a letter to FA.

Dear FA,
I am not a huge fan of you. Not in the least. I am tired. Extremely tired. I hate that my sister told me that I looked tired. "I can not stop yawning." I replied. "Yea, those black bags under your eyes are telling", she said.
FA, you are responsible for those unwanted bags. I am pointing the finger at you for the fall at two in the morning on my bathroom floor. Jokes on you as I didn't injure anything. But you threw it right back at me when I realized the challenge I had to get back in my wheelchair.
Totally your fault, FA and I am not at all happy about it.
And FA, you're to blame for making everything so exhausting to accomplish. A trip to the grocery store to pick up some decaf coffee and cat food is greeted by a stranger, a stranger gawking as I exit out my van with Delsie. The first thing that comes out of her mouth are the words, "You're still getting around?" You did this to me, FA. It's your fault that I am made to feel different.
You are behind the dumb comments but are rooted in the desire of people to ignore you. But you make it impossible for me or anyone else, for that matter, to ignore. I want to scream mean things at you. I would love to throw my kitchen chair at you. And the whole time laugh in your face as you remain defenseless. That's what I feel like your doing to me.
I hate you, FA. I really do.
And I think that's okay. It's this angst in my life that causes this tension. A discontent to force me to fight. A reality of carrying the bags under my eyes with a sense of pride. It is because of you that I respond to ill timed comments from strangers with grace.
FA, I loathe you. But you are not me. You are this unwanted thing in my life. I can't ignore you but I can stand firm in my faith that one day, your diagnosis will be a thing of the past.
And maybe, just maybe, Lady GaGa won't feel the need to kiss me because you are with me. The day will come that that "it" will kiss me for my good looks...
sooner than later, I hope. These bags are getting heavy.
Your #1 enemy,
Holly