Sincerely, Me

Dear Friend(?)

Dear Friend(?), 

Look at me, writing to nothing. Nothing being an empty journal sitting on a deserted counter top in the ladies room. Classy, hey?

         I guess it's not so empty now as it was yesterday, or the day before, or the week before, but that's not the point. I'm not really writing to this journal at all. I'm writing to you. No, not you. "You" being the person this letter is addressed to in the first place.

        You drive me crazy. You make me want to gouge my eyes out of their sockets and rip my hair from its roots. You make me tempted to cut out my tongue so I don't ever have to speak to you again. Why, you ask? Maybe it's the way that you silently judge everything that I do. I see it every time you rake my clothing with disapproval and you flash your pretty little smile and say, "Oh, I like your jeans," with more sarcasm than Bill Murray.

        I hate the way that you strut your hidden heels and lie about it when someone points them out. I despise the way you flirt with all the guys while making me look like a dumpster. You think that we don't know the only reason you fit a C-cup is because you stuff your bras with tissue paper, but we do. All your secrets are as clear as if I were staring at them through glass and it makes me hate you even more. 

        I used to like you, admittedly. That was before you started correcting and analyzing everything I say. That was before your rude remarks started spreading like wild fire, engulfing me and everyone in a hatred that remained long after the fire died... only to start again. You were my friend before you made it your business to know everything about anything that I do and shake your head when I make a mistake. Who are you to judge me when inside you're a walking disaster?

        So here's my advice to you: stop over-reacting over every little thing. Stop pretending to be cool by downgrading the rest of us. Stop acting and start living, because I swear, this will all catch up to you and I will cherish the day when it happens. I will cry tears of joy when I am finally the one on top.  No one will care or try to help you as you sob and lay in the dust.

        I can hardly wait for the day when you fall, my friend. 

        And do you know what? I hope that you read this. I hope you read this and realize that I'm talking about you. I hope you search desperately for the person who betrayed you with the idea of revenge and that you are tortured when you never find out who it is. I hope you never forget what I said because, and I promise you, your time is coming. It'll only be so long before you start crashing and burning. 

        Much love until then.

        Sincerely, me.