Dear Scarlett

Dear Scarlett,

     I am writing you to let know the change I am making.  This is a big change for me and I hope you won’t be terribly hurt by it. 

     As you know, when I first saw your story on the big screen, I was a teenager about the same age as you were when your biography began.  I had never before seen a movie or read a book that did not have a happy ending.   For the entire second half of your movie, I bawled my eyes and heart out.  Somehow, I identified with you because we were the same age and both had dark brown hair; after that, all similarities ended.   I thought that the movie was so well acted and the characters were so real that I could not believe it was fiction.  I ached for days for the horrible choices you made and felt genuine sadness at the pitiable condition your selfishness created for you and the other people in your life.  There was so much for me to learn about people and choices and life at that time. Some of it, I learned through you.

     Then, after empathizing with you so much at the theater, that summer I decided to read your book.  The book was one that I literally one I could not put down.  So instead of bawling for 2 solid hours to the point of being sick, I cried for 6 solid hours as I read your story and became immersed in it.  Again, I was practically ill from the pain of the story.  Thus, I declared at 16, that your story was my all-time favorite book and movie.  The quality of the writing was amazing and the characters were so well-done. Everything seemed so real.

     Your story was one that I referred to a lot in talking and thinking.  Emotional experiences tend to stick with you for a very long time.  I may have sat through the entire show one or two more times in the decades that followed.  I am not sure.  I was such a fan that I sought you out in Atlanta, the home of your biographer.  There are several museums that are about you and your story. I just had to visit them.  My husband-to-be even gave me a romantic card of Rhett kissing you when we were engaged.

     For decades, I continued to claim that GWTW was my favorite book and movie.  Then, a few years ago, we got cable TV and your story was readily available.  I would smile when I thought that I could watch it, but, then, when it came right down to it, I did not want to watch it.  I could not watch it.  There was just too much pain associated with your story. 
     Two days ago, it was on cable a number of times and it was on even two different channels at the same time.  My husband wanted to watch it and wanted me to watch it with him.  Somehow, I could not sit there and observe your shameful actions.  I ache for you but I don’t want to see your story again.  The only way I would ever want to watch your story again is as an object lesson to a teenager, maybe a grandchild, someday.

    Another person,whose story begins when he was a teenager, is David, the son of Jesse.  His story is full of shameful, selfish actions that hurt many people; but he turned his heart to God  when he erred and that made all the difference.  Your story, on the other hand, ends when Rhett, who once really cared about you, walks away and states, rather finally, using shocking words for that day and age, that he no longer cares. Your story ends the way a story would for someone incapable of true repentance and totally immersed in self as you were. Once you finally understood, it was too late.

    I realize, as a person seeking joy, I can no longer say that your story is my favorite book or movie.  I will have to choose something more positive and uplifting. I cannot even stand to watch it.  Frankly, Scarlett, I do not care any more. (Okay, maybe, just a little...)      

                                                                        A Former Sympathizer