Dear Mr. President

Dear Mr. President,

I want to tell you something that you’ve never heard before. I want my words to stick out in your mind amongst the words of hatred you bury underneath your hill of supporters. The world has made you an important person and I think your response to that importance tells me exactly who you are. You’re a father that has instilled his own importance in his children’s minds. You’re a husband that still shows a lack of tradition in his marriage despite his overall message. And you’re a president that I genuinely fear. I won’t spew hatred or deny your importance to the world, but I am scared that you are my president, and I, as a citizen you represent, need to know. Do you see value in who I am?

There’s never been a time where a president could fulfill promises for each of his citizens, but if you are going to be my president, can you promise me this? Will you work on the way you treat those of us that didn’t enlist? Can you catch the criminals and not because they are foreign? What will you say about the men that said what you said? Will you tell them he did it when it spreads? Will we become irrelevant after you win? The highest degree of uncertainty makes me think your healed bruised ego will come before your citizens. Please don’t respond to shouts with eye rolls and doubt but rather take the time to truly listen.

I honestly see through your rambles and speeches of nonsensical music that half of the country tunes in on to listen to the hatred similarly engulfing your brains. It only makes sense that the other half would listen just to see what their hearts never would be. I don’t want to be part of it. I don’t want to think about it. But I must see your face every day when you’ve hurt someone the way that I was hurt. And those women feel it. They mean it. And they’ve been taken down by your powerful antics and free flowing words. Now, you are the president again. And it is just as worse.

I want to tell you that I see the good parts of you but the closest I can come to that is by saying I have people that I love that voted for you. I don’t look down on them. I wish it was different. But I still love them. So, I guess you could say that’s sort of a win for you. And on top of that, I don’t want to feel your ears with words that you won’t actually hear. So let me just say this. Who and what you are will not be buried in history. The things that you say will always be taped. You may get shrugs now, but when your legacy dies over the next twenty years, the following thirty will begin to tell the story of who you truly were. The country will forget about you, and you won’t be labeled as the best there ever was just because you once said it.

So, as my words come to a close, think about the fact they might be found on the web once you’ve disappeared along with thousands of others that told their story and your truth. If 50% of my country, and the majority of the world, hated me the way that you are hated, I might look at myself again in the mirror and contemplate who I am. As I know you’ll never do that, leave it to us to watch. Good luck, Mr. President. We will be watching.