love letter to myself

 

dear emma,

 

your real name is emily, did you know? i think you've forgotten. it still makes your parents pretty upset that you hated your proper name so much. "emily is SUCH  a good name!" they'd say. the real kicker was when you decided to get your first ever credit card with "EMMA GOLDEN" stamped on that bitch. you made the name you call yourself official. your parents haven't seen the credit card yet, but if they ever catch a glimpse of it, just know ahead of time that you broke their hearts. YOU did. no one else. you selfish, little bitch.

 

you should probably stop talking to yourself so much. i know it's easier said than done since you live alone and all, but you're starting to do it in public and on a very frequent basis. people don't understand that you're not crazy. it doesn't matter if you don't look like a hobo. all they hear are tiny murmurs coming out of your mouth and automatically take a few steps back or move to the next aisle. i know it's not like you're going to these public places to find and make new friends, but don't you give a shit about your perceived? no? yes you do. don't lie to me. i know you better than you know yourself. pull back on the talking to yourself while out and about thing. really.

and WHY do you continue to buy flour tortillas when you KNOW damn well you aren't supposed to have them in the house??? i know you just ate 2 and i also know you had lunch! a full lunch! are you delusional? did you mistake flour tortillas for an apple or some carrots as a snack? a flat cut of delicious doughy mexican goodness is NOT a snack, emma. i know when it's slathered in butter and salsa, you get a pang of excitement in your groin, but GET A HOLD OF YOURSELF. soon your face, ass and stomach are gonna take the shape and texture of said tortillas and you're gonna be upset. and cry. and probably eat more tortillas to soothe yourself so just QUIT IT. and NO, that picture isn't me telling you that you can have 1. it's me saying NO. BAD EMMA.

 

just because people around you are whispering doesn't mean they're talking about you. i know sometimes you think you're the only one who feels this way, but you're not alone (am i??? does anyone else have this irrational fear???). honestly, they're probably talk mad shit on that one terrible dresser in the office or discussing business ventures that have nothing to do with you and would bore the hell out of you anyway. don't be so fucking paranoid. you never smell bad (except for THE VERY FEW TIMES THAT MAAAYBE YOU HAVE) and you're nice enough. just thank God everyday no one can read your mind, because holy shit you'd be in so much trouble.

also, i'm sorry to be so hard on you, but really - what difference does it make if that ONE pair of shoes isn't in its right place when you leave for work? why does it matter if the couch looks like its been sat on instead of perfectly smoothed out? YOU'RE NOT EVEN HOME ALL DAY! i know, i know. OCD. it runs in the family. you feel better when you know you're coming home to cleanliness. i get it. kind of. but i wish you'd tone it down. remember that one time your friend FORCED you NOT to clean your kitchen for 2 days??? you listened to her and you felt a little relieved. but then you cleaned the fucking shit out of it. i guess it could be worse. you iron like once a year, if that. if you start ironing your sheets, we need to have a serious sit down talk.

i'm sorry. i've been harsh on you today. i will give you this: i like you. i do. you're pretty cool. sure, you have some things you could work on, but don't we all? you shouldn't interrupt people so much. and you should probably tone down the amount of cuss words that fly out of your mouth. you tend to get defensive easily and you are a RAGING bitch when you're blood sugar is low. but... all that aside...

i like you. just as you are.

 

 

- me

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