Dear P.
This is by far the most honest letter I will ever write to you. By the time you read this, I don’t want to see you ever again.
I have already made up my mind and drawn my plans, and even your sweet gestures, persuasive as they are, cannot make me change my decision.
There’s really no easy way to say this, and I hate to break it to you this early, but … It’s not me, it’s you.
Yes, it’s not me, it’s you. I never told you this, but I became dependent on you, and I don’t like who I’ve become because of it.
I’m at a point in my life where I want my independence back. For a very long time, you have been with me every single step of the way — from the moment I wake up in the morning and brush my teeth, to when I switch off the lights to sleep.
You have been loyal to me, but this relationship isn’t working any longer. I don’t want to be dependent on you for anything anymore.
It’s not me, it’s you. Don’t you know that you’ve created a toxic environment not just for me, but for others, too?
My relationship with you was unhealthy. It was damaging from the start, but I didn’t notice it.
But, now, you’ve revealed your true self. And as the years have unfolded, I’ve found myself caught up in a toxic cycle, choosing convenience over a healthy environment.
It’s not me, it’s you. You’re suffocating me by being everywhere, all the time — even when I am on the beach or a river cruise.
You have literally conquered my world, and I don’t like it. I need some space to change things, to breathe. Everyone needs a personal space, and you always have to respect it.
It’s not me, it’s you. You’re artificial. As I age, I want something more natural, reciprocal and sustainable that fits my evolving personality and lifestyle. I have different needs now, and to be frank—you really haven’t changed at all.
I know our relationship is not going anywhere. I am sorry. But I can’t see myself spending the rest of my life with you.
It’s not me, it’s you. We’re just not compatible. Your priorities and intentions in this world just don’t align with mine any longer. Sure, we both like colorful, durable and inexpensive stuff.
But these are just the things we have in common, nothing more. We don’t agree on roles and goals and in finding better ways of doing things, so I guess it’s okay to end things maturely and just move on.
This is my goodbye. I wish that things didn’t have to be this way, but you left me with no other choice.
As a wise wizard once said, “We must all face the choice between what is right, and what is easy.”
I think I am choosing the right and difficult path over the easy and convenient way.
P.S. Your friend Barbie was wrong when she said life with you is extraordinarily good. Sorry, P — I mean Plastic — but I realized, after picking you up a hundred times along the country’s shorelines, riverways and cliffs, that Barbie was talking trash.
Because life in plastic is not fantastic, not at all.
Over and out. —Plastic-free July advocate
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Jyferson A. Villapa, 25, from Brooke’s Point, Palawan, is a youth coordinator and communication development officer at the
Department of Environment and Natural Resources-Mimaropa.
