Oh, hey! Can we talk about something? Can we just rap for a minute? I’ll be cool this time, promise!
Can you just go eat a bag of assholes?
No, wait, come back! Come back! I’m sorry, that was out of line. You might not even be hungry right now, and I don’t want you to get a tummy ache! So please accept my apology. And munch on a bag of assholes at your leisure.
Love,
Emily
Hey, you crazy bitch! What’s happenin’? Oh, you’re sleeping all day and crying into your pillow all night? That’s cool. No, I know you’re working, and I know you do things sometimes like watch Golden Girls marathons and go out for sushi. But, girl, all these things that you’re upset about now? It’s nothing, sister, I promise. You’re going to make it through this. You’re going to be ok.
I know it’s hard to believe right now, trust me. I know you feel horrible about yourself, I know you feel completely unlovable and like you’re not in control of your life, and I know you think that you let everybody down and that you’ve disappointed everyone, especially yourself, but you know what? You haven’t. You’re cool. You’re a smart chick, you’ve got a lot of things going for you, and, again, you’re going to be ok.
You’re going to start working more, and you’re going to start fully realizing how awesome your job is and how lucky you are to have it. You’re going to go “hey, I’m getting paid to do something that I’ve loved to do since I learned how to do it. I’m fulfilling a dream that I’ve had for about 15 years.” And that’s pretty damn cool.
You’re going to start working out. I know, I know, “yeah, right, ok,” but really, you are. I know you’ve had a lot of issues with your body and your self esteem, but for real, this is going to make you feel so much better. Like, girl, you’re going to work out so hard that you get sore. From lifting weights. It’s crazy, but it’s true.
You’re going to adopt the most precious little guinea pig that ever was. And I know that you don’t really think of guinea pigs much, but really, you’re going to have the cutest guinea pig, and he is going to be such a little light in your life. He is going to make you smile till your face hurts and warm your heart with his little purrs and squeaks and all those adorable noises. You are going to love him so much that you take pictures of him in bad lighting that you look at about seven times a day.
You are going to meet the most amazing man that you could ever hope to meet and, wait for it, he’s going to be completely in love with you. He’s going to be so funny and sweet and just the most charming thing, and he is going to be so into you. Like, I don’t want you to get cocky or anything, but I just want you to know that you’re finally going to get that wonderful, lovely person, and he loves you to death. He’s going to love you so much that he takes you to see animals and mountains and the planetarium on New Year’s Eve.
He’s going to love you so much that he takes you to see horses.
And he’s going to love you so much that he asks you to marry him. I’m sorry, girl, I don’t have good photos just yet, but just so you know, you say yes. And you’re absolutely thrilled about it.
And, ok, I’m not going to fib and say that there aren’t some shitty parts, because there are. There are a good few shitty parts, and they’re going to make you sad and they’re going to be hard, but the most important thing is that you handle it. You make it through, and I am so proud of you for it.
All right, I know you probably have some episodes of Golden Girls to watch or whatever, so I’m going to wrap it up here. But just remember, no matter what anyone else says, and especially no matter what you say to yourself, you’re a good person. And your going to have a totally kick ass year.
Love,
Your Future Self
I know we haven’t spoken in a while. I know we only ever spoke at all because we had that one class together and we were in the same group. I know that you have no idea who I am, and that my Facebook friend requests were made in vain. Despite all of this knowledge, I feel like we could really have something special.
Here’s what I’m proposing: a three-way relationship. Well, sort of, it wouldn’t be like a traditional three-way relationship. What I have in mind is that, Super Hot Guy, you will be my boyfriend mainly. We’ll hold hands and snuggle and make out and go places and stare lovingly into each other’s eyes before we fall asleep in each other’s arms every night. But here’s where you come in, Homely Guy - you have a way more appealing voice. So what you would do is stick with me and Super Hot Guy, and the two of you would be trained so that SHG moves his mouth silently in conversation, and you speak for him from the shadows. Get it?
In outlining this relationship, I came into another problem, which is that neither of you are that skilled at holding good conversation. To solve this problem, I think that while SHG and I work on our physical relationship, HG can search the area for a smart, funny, interesting guy. SFIG will whisper or write lines for HG, who will speak them while SHG mouths words.
I hope the two of you realize my sincerity and admiration for you, and that you can consider my proposal and get in touch with me to make arrangements.
Love always,
Emily
I feel for you. I really, really do, and before anything else, I want you to understand that. But that being said, as I emptied my nervous bladder full of Cherry Coke, the last thing I expected to hear was that your pregnancy test was positive.
You weren’t even gossiping with your friends about your pregnancy, no - I know this because the way I found out, along with all your friends and all the other occupants of the ladies’ room, was by your blood-curdling scream of “shit!” followed by “it’s positive, the test is positive!” As if that left room for any doubt as to what you were doing, I saw you sitting in the stall with that terrifying little test in your hands as I made my way to the sink. I might have offered you a hug or a piece of gum, but I knew you were ok because when your friends asked you what you were going to do, you replied with “I’m gonna just watch the fuckin’ movie and hope everything turns out all right.” And that kind of attitude will get you so far in this unexpected pregnancy.
I don’t know why you took your pregnancy test in the bathroom at the movies, but really, I don’t have to know. All I have to know is that you’re going to be a spectacular, upbeat mom who can really appreciate a good movie. And that knowledge in my heart is enough to overpower all the curiosity I have about your fucked up ways.
Best wishes,
Emily
First of all, I don’t like you. I just want to make that perfectly clear. I don’t care for your kind of shenanigans and I didn’t care to be a part of them.
I didn’t even care to be at your party in the first place. When I found out that the location of said party had moved from a house to a little place under a bridge by the railroad tracks, I did not jump for joy - quite the contrary. Do you think a girl like me enjoys maneuvering down a wall of rock at least two times as tall as she is? Trick question, because the answer is a very obvious “no.” But I’m a trooper, and my high school prom date that I hadn’t seen in a year was down there by the railroad tracks, and I knew that, so dutifully I crawled through the hole in the fence and worked my way down the rocks by stepping on some dudes’ shoulders. And then I met you.
I suppose when one attends a bonfire under a bridge by the railroad tracks, one should expect that those specific partygoers will be drinking like hobos, but tragically, I did not. But luckily, I caught on quickly as a train went by shortly after my arrival and you stood entirely too close to it, hooting and hollering like a hobo drinking under a bridge (which, as far as I know, you certainly could have been). I pushed aside the nervousness you caused me and instead focused on my prom date and his guitar playing, but of course, you just had to raise the stakes.
The first thing I thought when the train whistle blew in the distance and you settled yourself in the middle of the tracks was that I had seen this happen in a film before. The next thing I thought was “this kid is out of his mind.” The third thought I had, and the one that lasted the longest, was “this kid is going to get run over by a train right now.”
If I could give you one compliment, it’s that you do know how to build suspense. As the train rolled into sight and your friends yelled and pleaded with you to get off the tracks, you held steadfast. It was only at the last possible minute that you allowed your friends to pull you up and back to safety, and that takes some dramatic skill, and I commend you for that. However, it doesn’t change the fact that you are one of the douchiest douches I’ve ever seen have a near death experience. Nothing will change that.
Love,
Emily
P.S. I think I saw you at a concert last night wearing the same thing you wore that fateful first time I met you - cargo shorts, a wool hoodie, and a bandana covering dreads. You should know that God’s not going to keep watching over you if you keep looking like a tool.
I never wanted to be your friend. There, I said it. I don’t feel like I should have been obligated to be your friend just because your parents got divorced and you didn’t handle it well. You should have been more like your older brother who was also in Teen Book Club and dyed a red streak in your hair and gotten into skateboarding. But no. Instead, you got some shady back alley tattoo of a pentagram with a goat head in the middle of it right on your adolescent calf. And that was your choice.
How did you even do that? Seriously, you were 13, at most. I remember because one of the librarians told me that you got suspended from your middle school for threatening a teacher. Do you have a relative with questionable morals and a tattoo gun? He’d also had to have some artistry, because it looked pretty good, you know, for a pentagram featuring a goat head.
What’s more, what was up with the Satanic body art? Were you in a phase that you thought you’d be in for the rest of your life? Spoiler alert, that wasn’t the case.
Anyway, all this is just the prelude to asking why you thought it was ok to bang on the store windows at the mall as I was driving away, yelling my name like I’d turn around and talk to you? Especially when it wasn’t even me, but my best friend who looks absolutely nothing like me?
In conclusion, it is clear that in all these years since we met, you have not once checked yourself. And girlfriend, you’re long overdue for wrecking yourself.
With the utmost respect and cordiality,
Emily
