November 30, 2012
Dear Marissa,
I am writing this for two reasons; One: because I am bored out of my mind and I like to type random shit. Two: I hope that someday you will read this and remember me. I am writing this so that you will read it 4 years in the future, you will be 21. The legal age to drink and smoke and drive a rental car. And I am sure that the world has changed a lot since I have written this. Hopefully you are going towards your future of a chef or an actress as crazy as that sounds. I hope that you are happy, happier than I am now. Perhaps you have been through more heartaches, and you have grown up, made more and bigger mistakes. I don’t need to remind you of all the mistakes we have made, I just hope that I am able to clean up our life in time to do something with it. This is the worst time in my life to fuck up and want to throw everything away, I am trying my best to keep caring. My wrists hurt from the thin cuts I have placed upon them my hips and legs are also starting to get riddled with scars. I am sorry, I feel sill doing it but for some reason I keep doing it. It’s like a drug or something.
Speaking of drugs I wonder if you still do them, right now we are still in the weed stage. I like weed but I don’t see myself going out and looking for it. If someone has it I’ll smoke, gladly and greedily but I’m not one to seek it out. I am also addicted to sex, and I see that fucking us up along the road and I am sorry about that too. I have tried to stop myself to keep away from boys and not let myself get sucked in but every time I fall for their stupid tricks and they make me sick. I make me sick, I honest to goodness think that I am a whore and that I am ugly and fat and sickening and annoying at that everyone secretly hates me. And the saddest part is I know how stupid it all sounds. I am not a real person yet. Honestly I have no idea who I am or what the point of me sticking around these people are. I want to run away and start fresh away from the lies and the self loathing and have a chance to be me. Just me and have no one asking anything of me and have real friends who love and cherish me and I wish I had that in high school. Someone who felt off kilter if I wasn’t there and texted me all night and day. And loved me dispite my imperfections, I know I have a lot. I do things and say things and even think things sometimes and I am disgusted with myself. I hope you hate me because I do. To think I am going to turn into you. I hope we turn out good you know? A real badass, and if not oh well at least we tried right?
