Letter to my 15 year old self.

WARNING: Long post incoming. Grab a cushion and a snack.

Sometimes I rediscover an old journal of mine and although I've read it a thousand times before, it always seems so new and foreign.

Similar to a Bugatti. Except worse. Much worse. So it's not like a Bugatti at all.



Like with many things I did in the past, Now Me wants to take Then Me by the collar and shake her up a bit and maybe slap her around a few times. But because Now Me is wiser and awesome-r, I decided I will write Then Me a reply to a letter I had written to a high school boyfriend when I was fifteen.

Without further delay, here is the letter I wrote (and did not send for obvious reasons):

"October 25
Dear Josh,

I've come to a realization. All this time I made myself believe that maybe you do like me despite all of my doubts and backwards assumptions. You say you hate liars but it can't be true otherwise you'd only be hating yourself. Yes, people make mistakes -blah blah blah- [I literally wrote that with the hyphens and all] but history tends to repeat itself.

I'll admit that I was upset those few days that we'd stop talking but I'm glad because it gave me time to think and realize how oblivious I was becoming. Maybe it's your fault for ignoring me, MY biggest pet peeve, or maybe it is my fault for not coming to this conclusion way back in June.

People are supposed to learn from their mistakes but I guess hurting people is just a hobby for you. It's funny because we're so similar in some ways. The only difference is that I have morals. I know what's wrong and right and I don't allow anyone to play with my emotions. Thank you for teaching me a valuable lesson. This is the REAL goodbye.

Mersiha."


Oh, before I get into my reply letter I should mention a few things and give you guys the back-story.

Before I started this particular journal, I had another one in which EVERY SINGLE entry was about this ex-boyfriend. I set that journal on fire and vowed never to mention him again. Then this journal came about and the above letter was the first of MANY that were written in the journal. So yeah, "my REAL goodbye" wasn't even remotely close to a goodbye.

I dated Josh during my Sophomore year of High School. I had Chemistry class and Phys Ed with him. I liked him and so did everyone else. I was psyched when he started flirting with me and then when he finally asked me out. Because HELLO, he was captain of the basketball team and I was am shallow.

Turns out, I wasn't the only one dating him. He was also seeing two other girls in the Phys Ed class that we SHARED together. Oblivion, you are so good to me. I learned this on the last day of school when one of the other girls confronted me.

We then went to Rockaway Beach, where he and his friends had gone, to confront him. He was stunned and I owned (for lack of a better term) him so hard. It was brilliant, I walked away smiling and feeling undefeated. Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.

But I got home later that night and he apologized a million times and I forgave him and ended up seeing him soon after again.

I regret nothing.

Moving on to the letter to my 15-year-old self:

Dear Then Me,

You will learn that when a guy tells you not to tell anyone about your relationship, he is an asshole and there is a reason why he doesn't want people to know. (Not that it ever happens again in the future but if it did, now you'd know.) You will also learn that Chemistry will not help your future in any way. Nor will the periodic table so you've memorized it for no reason. Forget everything you've learned, it's taking up valuable memory space.

You will also learn that you shouldn't have gone to Josh's house a week after the Halloween party that should be coming up because you'll never REALLY talk to him again after it. Well, until Freshman year of college when he randomly sends you Facebook messages asking you out to dinner and calling you that petname that he always calls you. Don't worry, you'll politely decline.

Oh and when Josh says "hi" to you in the hall next year, and his friend rudely comments "mad thirst", punch him in the face. Because, really, who says that? Thanks.

Love,
Now Me.

P.S. You look better as a blonde.

My fourteen year old self.

My fifteen year old self. (And my natural hair color, hoorah.)

I think I should say (just in case it came off that way) that I'm not bitter about the situation. Or about any relationship in my past. Not only did it happen eons and ions ago but I love experiences.

And I figured it would be fun to try something new as a post. I love the idea of letters to the past and I would love to see some from my fellow bloggers. So get to diggin' into the past!