Correspondence 4

(For a newer draft of this letter within the completed series of letters, click here.)

Dear Alan,

I have been tricked, whether it was you or I who did the tricking, I do not know. I had previously understood that you contacted me to ease your conscience regarding your shameful past and the no doubt large part of that past our past makes up. However, I now see your agenda was not apologetic in nature, but pitiable. You spoke with near exclusivity about your own woes and said next next to nothing about those you inflicted upon me and presumably those other circle-goers.
You poor narcissist. Although you may have changed addresses, you still live in a house of mirrors. As much as I do not want to give you what you want, I cannot help it. You have my pity, but remember we are to take pity upon the wretched and the weak. I see nothing laudable in understanding yourself more at the expense of knowledge of others. You cannot hope to gain much of the one without the other. Where is your compassion? You are not as isolated as you take yourself to be. You are a part of the web of people and cannot be extricated from it by a few people giving your a few cold shoulders. You still have your family and, apparently, me to relate to. Please stop thinking so atomistically.
You do not prove to be remorseful by making momentary concern for others a springboard into concern for yourself. Is it not telling that the only time you look outside yourself is to heap scorn on the average person? Have you ever asked yourself why it is so odious to you to be average (whatever that means and however you measure it)? Plenty of average people are moderately happy and rightfully so. From the looks of it, you would rather be an unhappy genius. Let me clarify the option for you, since the dream has gotten out of hand. Genius is rarely respected. The rest of us cannot fathom it enough to be able to recognize it when we see it. Most of the people that are widely appreciated are so because they are relatable, not because they are ubermench. I am not suggesting we ought to live for the esteem of the common man. Esteem is nearly always misplaced, as you yourself can now attest to.
I did not speak clearly earlier when I referenced principles and details. Details are important, though we ought not rehash them incessant. Minutiae are the spring of dreadfully myopic emotional lives. That said, what is it exactly that you want? Be specific. Do you want critics in lofty magazines writing about how fantastic you secretly are? Would you like to be the protagonist in a modern tragedy? You poor honors-chaser! You are on an unhappy treadmill, busy making no progress. How many times need you be dissatisfied shortly after getting what you desired before you realize that you are fickle before anything else?
At least you have reached out, though you expect me to do the greater part by running to your assistance. If you have been mistaken in your own estimation, so be it. Be mistaken no longer and leave the cycle altogether.

Sophia