A Brief Courteous Note to my Back Pain

Dear Pain-Above-My-Arse,

It's just not working out for me. You're always around, always on my back, never leave me alone for long enough. I'm an introvert. I need my space. You won't even let me sleep for more than six hours!

Seriously. I know we've been together for 22 years, and I can't lie to say there haven't been some good times in there. But for the most part, those good times have been despite your best efforts: you've basically been a pain-above-my-arse, and I think I've reached a point in my life where I need to be with those who will treat me lovingly and well, and you've proven over the decades that you're just not interested in being that for me.

I think we should see other people. Actually, I think I should see other people, and you should go back whence you came and ne'er darken my doorstep - nor anyone else's - ever again. I can't even recommend you to one of my friends. Hell, I wouldn't recommend you to one of my enemies, at this point.

I wish I could close with a cheery "Love, Caitie", but we both know I'd be lying. Just gather up your things and go, okay? Don't make this any harder on both of us than it needs to be.

No longer yours,


Shakesville is run as a safe space. First-time commenters: Please read Shakesville's Commenting Policy and Feminism 101 Section before commenting. We also do lots of in-thread moderation, so we ask that everyone read the entirety of any thread before commenting, to ensure compliance with any in-thread moderation. Thank you.

blog comments powered by Disqus