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Dear 16-22 year old self,

I know you’re poor, but please spend the $10-16 on eyebrow waxing/threading. This is not an area to be penny-pinching. I just spent the past 20 minutes deleting unflattering pictures of you off Facebook. 

Also, please consider exercising and going veg. You won’t lose weight, but you’ll tone up and look healthier. The baby fat in your cheeks will go away once you stop eating ice cream and salami every day. And stop worrying about your boobs shrinking if you exercise—they’re still there in all their glory.

Your life will flourish after you and E break up. He’s holding you back in more ways than you can imagine. Leave him now. It’s going to suck for a while, but you’ll find yourself in the process. Your fears about him turned out to be true: he’s going nowhere in life and doesn’t care. At 25, you two are complete opposites. Also, after breaking up, you’ll quickly learn that E was actually horrible in bed. 

When B gets pissed at his friend Mike and leaves you alone at the party, that’s when you need to call it off. The next year and a half are going to feel like a perpetual cycle of disappointment and heartbreak if you stick it out. He’s going to get mad at you for a lot of stupid reasons and you’ll cry and feel like shit all the time. He’ll never say “I love you.” Then he’ll leave you for a girl who belongs in a Patagonia catalog for the ugly. They just bought a house in Leadville. Obviously, I’m much happier without him. 

Don’t be afraid to do stupid things or fuck up. You’re going to do it all eventually—everybody does—but it’s so much easier to learn the hard way when you’re young. 

Start reading feminist authors.

Have sex. Stop waiting. Your heart will get broken regardless of if you sleep with any of them, so just have fun and be safe. 

Be present. Have fun today. You’ll regret it later if you don’t. 

You’ll get hurt the most from the times you compromised yourself and your needs. Expectation and potential don’t make up for present actions. Excuses mean nothing without an apology, especially when you’re the one making excuses for them. Nobody changes.

You’re going to be very happy once you decide to listen to yourself and do what you want. Having someone be proud of you is a great feeling, but it doesn’t beat the feeling of finding your passion and making it your life.   

With that said, you’re doing great at 25. You’re happier, healthier, and your life is so much more interesting. You have a lot to look forward to. 

With wisdom and love,

Your 25 year old self

P.S. Thank you for being anal about using sunscreen. 

Dear Roommate,

  • Paper towel and wrappers are NOT recyclable. 
  • Plastic, glass, and aluminum ARE recyclable.
  • I’m sure you haven’t noticed, but the stove is caked with grease, and it’s mostly your fault. Wipe it down after you cook your bacon and sausage, just like I do after I’m done cooking vegetables and soup.
  • Nail clippers should only be used in the bathroom.
  • There is no reason the TV should be audible in every room of the apartment.
  • Lately, you’ve been spending like 30 minutes taking shits. Stop eating so much processed food and meat. I need to use the bathroom too!
  • I know it smells horrifyingly bad, but stop using so much air freshener. It makes the whole apartment reek for hours.
  • Stop closing the door after you’re done. We don’t have a fan in the bathroom, and you’re trapping in all the nasty smells. Air that shit out. I prefer to do my makeup in the bathroom, but thanks to you I can’t.
  • Empty my vacuum after you’re done using it. It’s bagless, so you can see just as well as I can that it’s full.
  • Stop vacuuming the edge of the carpet. All the extra strings get caught up underneath.
  • Drinking 3+ beers almost every night by yourself is a sign of borderline alcoholism. 
  • Why don’t you share your weed with me?
  • If I don’t hear you come in, I always know your home when my internet slows way down. Your TV and video games are sucking away my bandwidth. 
  • You now owe me for two months worth of electrical bills, totaling $30.
  • You still owe me $250 of the deposit.
  • Give me my money.

Sincerely,

Your Roommate

Reblogging Myself

Preface: Two years ago today, December 13, 2009, B and I had our first date. 

I wish I forgot. It’s a terrible thing to remember when you’re ready for bed. I hardly slept last night.  

It’s scary how much one person can affect you. how one person—a person you loved and trusted the most—can be capable of hurting you more than anyone else in the world. hurt you more than what you thought was humanly possible.

Below is something I wrote a little while ago… I’m usually fine, but every so often I’ll remember what happened and it’s like I’m re-living the Hell all over again (kind of last night… but I was a total emotional wreck when I wrote what’s below, so only read it if you want to know someone’s thoughts as they pretty much have a metal breakdown). All three relationships I’ve had have ended traumatically… and no, I’m not being dramatic. I honestly don’t know anyone who’s gone though as much as I have—at least at my age. It starts getting to you.    

It’s sad. Don’t read it.

ohmenver:

Dear B, 

It’s 2 hours past my bedtime.

It’s almost 2 years since we met.

It’s 1 year since your dad died. 

It’s 10 months since you moved here.

It’s 9 months since I moved here.

It’s almost 8 months since you returned from leading that high school spring break trip. You had no way of communicating with me or anyone for three weeks. 
Before your arrival, I spent the day cleaning my apartment and grocery shopping for your favorite foods.
I picked you up from the airport and drove you home. You had to get up early for work and you said I couldn’t stay. You were short with me and I wrote it off as jet lag. 
The next day you spent the night. 
You woke up early the following morning, showered, ate my cereal, got ready for work. 
I asked you if you wanted to come over for dinner. 
You said “I can’t do this anymore,” grabbed your things, and walked out my door. 

It’s 7 1/2 months since I was finally able to do more than stare at my walls and sleep for 12+ hours a day. since I started going on dates and giving guys my number. since I fainted at work. since almost all my daily calories were from liquor, if I had any calories at all. since my clothes started getting too big for my body. 

It’s 5 months since I was fighting tears at work and wanting to die. That night, my friends dragged me out to the bar with them. That’s when I met T. Our first date was the next day. I started feeling happy again.

It’s almost 4 months since I forgot you enough to have sex with T for the first time. 

It’s 3 1/2 months since I found out you met her the week after you left me. You worked with her all summer, just like #3, the girl whom you left #2 for. 
You took her to the places we went together. 
She uprooted her life in Vermont so you two could live together. even though you said it was “too much pressure” when I moved here (even though we lived 30 minutes apart. even though I was going to school here in August. even though we had been dating for more than a year). 
I went over to T’s. He knew I was upset but I didn’t know how to explain why. He probably understood better than I did. He made me feel better. He tried his best.

It’s 3 months since T left. He wanted a break. He found a girl who was emotionally available.  
I realized I was too scared and hurt to let myself open up to him. I shut myself down after you left. I didn’t try. 
T never really got to know me. just fragments. 
He wanted the parts of me you didn’t like, the parts of me I closed off. 

It’s been a few months since I cried because of you, before tonight. 

It’s a few times a week that I have dreams and nightmares about you.

It’s every day I am reminded of you.

It’s every day I want to forget you exist.

It’s tonight, at 1 am that I experienced a rush of thoughts, memories, and emotions about you. It’s 2:20 right now. I shouldn’t be awake. I shouldn’t be crying. 
My heart and I were disposable to you. Just like every girl before me. Just like your brother warned me. I loved you. I don’t know if I will ever let myself love again. I would rather die than ever again endure pain like what you inflicted. 
I wish you knew what you’ve done to me. I wish you understood. I wish you felt remorse. I wish you would tell me you’re sorry.

8 months later. I’m awake, now fully aware that I am a shell of who I used to be. 
You’re in bed with #5. 

Dear B,

It’s 2 hours past my bedtime.

It’s almost 2 years since we met.

It’s 1 year since your dad died. 

It’s 10 months since you moved here.

It’s 9 months since I moved here.

It’s almost 8 months since you returned from leading that high school spring break trip. You had no way of communicating with me or anyone for three weeks. 
Before your arrival, I spent the day cleaning my apartment and grocery shopping for your favorite foods.
I picked you up from the airport and drove you home. You had to get up early for work and you said I couldn’t stay. You were short with me and I wrote it off as jet lag. 
The next day you spent the night. 
You woke up early the following morning, showered, ate my cereal, got ready for work. 
I asked you if you wanted to come over for dinner. 
You said “I can’t do this anymore,” grabbed your things, and walked out my door. 

It’s 7 1/2 months since I was finally able to do more than stare at my walls and sleep for 12+ hours a day. since I started going on dates and giving guys my number. since I fainted at work. since almost all my daily calories were from liquor, if I had any calories at all. since my clothes started getting too big for my body. 

It’s 5 months since I was fighting tears at work and wanting to die. That night, my friends dragged me out to the bar with them. That’s when I met T. Our first date was the next day. I started feeling happy again.

It’s almost 4 months since I forgot you enough to have sex with T for the first time. 

It’s 3 1/2 months since I found out you met her the week after you left me. You worked with her all summer, just like #3, the girl whom you left #2 for. 
You took her to the places we went together. 
She uprooted her life in Vermont so you two could live together. even though you said it was “too much pressure” when I moved here (even though we lived 30 minutes apart. even though I was going to school here in August. even though we had been dating for more than a year). 
I went over to T’s. He knew I was upset but I didn’t know how to explain why. He probably understood better than I did. He made me feel better. He tried his best.

It’s 3 months since T left. He wanted a break. He found a girl who was emotionally available.  
I realized I was too scared and hurt to let myself open up to him. I shut myself down after you left. I didn’t try. 
T never really got to know me. just fragments. 
He wanted the parts of me you didn’t like, the parts of me I closed off. 

It’s been a few months since I cried because of you, before tonight. 

It’s a few times a week that I have dreams and nightmares about you.

It’s every day I am reminded of you.

It’s every day I want to forget you exist.

It’s tonight, at 1 am that I experienced a rush of thoughts, memories, and emotions about you. It’s 2:20 right now. I shouldn’t be awake. I shouldn’t be crying. 
My heart and I were disposable to you. Just like every girl before me. Just like your brother warned me. I loved you. I don’t know if I will ever let myself love again. I would rather die than ever again endure pain like what you inflicted. 
I wish you knew what you’ve done to me. I wish you understood. I wish you felt remorse. I wish you would tell me you’re sorry.

8 months later. I’m awake, now fully aware that I am a shell of who I used to be. 
You’re in bed with #5.