Home
Dear home,
I have been hesitating to write to you mainly because my earlier communications with you lead to Thelma and me getting caught. I am not sure why it is that I feel an intense need to keep in contact with you. My assumption is that I have been taught, as women in this world, to know what is supposed to be important to me. My family comes first, then my husband, then my home and possibly somewhere down the line myself. I left you, I wanted to get away from you but as soon as things became hard and I became lonely, I called. First I talked with Darryl and I made him quickly pass me on to the cops. I believe Hal is his name. Hal was trying to be a nice guy but I knew he really didn’t want to help, I think... One would assume that after my first call home that it would end there because I knew it would only lead to Thelma and me getting caught. I guess what I realized on the road was that no matter how much I wanted to escape my domesticity I couldn’t. I guess I am not as strong of a woman as I thought I was. These feminine ideals still have control over me—but I tried to fight them, oh how I tried. You should have seen me! I killed a man, blew up a truck, drove a get away car but still that simple concept of home and where I “belong” still had a strong hold on me. I will tell you this, you ultimately didn’t win. I drove of that cliff, hand in hand with Thelma. I didn’t look back, I didn’t call you one last time, and you actually didn’t cross my mind. In the end my constant calling you lead to us driving off the cliff but you didn’t win—I won. I didn’t return back to you. I did escape you.
Sincerely,
Louise