I tried to help.

I really did.

When you cried for three hours on my shoulder and reviled yourself and you mother.... I held you. I felt for you. I cried with you. I swore that I'd help you, no matter what.

And so I went to where you were stripping, and gave you enough seed money to Get Out. And you said you did. Burned you clothes, rejected the stripper name in favor of that English Boy you dumped me for.

And I thought you were out completely. When we met in front of Amnesia and you were so confidant, so strong. You were Never Going Back. I was so happy for you.

And then, a few months later, when two of my best friends came giggling to me to tell me the gossip that you had gone back to stripping and we had that text message conversation and I ended it with "Don't worry about the money. Enjoy your life."

Well...

I meant it. I was a little tipsy and I could have definitely said it better, but I meant it.

You were an amazing girl. You were bright and funny and were really, going places with your archaeology. I guess you are still bright and funny....

I have no problem with the profession, really. I have a problem with you doing it. And it's not that you were so close to me, either. People who strip or who are in any profession, sex profession or not, should be enjoying themselves. If you are really enjoying yourself, why did you spend three hours crying about it to me? Especially since we hadn't seen each other in two years? The first thing you said to me was "I've become my mother." And I remember how much you hated your mother. How much you looked down on her and how many times you swore you'd never become her.

I guess what I'm trying to say here is.... I really do wish you well. I'm really disappointed that you went back to stripping, but I really hope you have a good life. I wish it were possible for us to have some kind of contact, but I honestly doubt either of us would enjoy it anymore. Which is a shame, because we were so close for so long. We really got each other. I'm still bitter towards you, for everything that went before, but I honestly wish you a better life than your mother's. I really want to end this with "Let me know if there's anything I can do." But I've already said and done that. And there's nothing left to be said or done.

um.... yeah.