Dear Me,

you are fat. really, REALLY fat. You should just take a knife and cut it all off.

your makeup looks like shit, your hair is fucked up.

your boyfriend doesnt deserve you. he wastes his money on you.

the lights are on, but nobody is home. no wonder the only guys that have ever been interested in you were weirdos.

your family doesnt love you. the only person who ever loved you, your grandma, is long gone and dead.

your conception was a mistake, your mom would be better off without you.

you waste the money you earn on stupid shit: junk you wont use, clothes you will outgrow, food that makes you fat.

you now suck at piano. your boyfriend wasted $400 on buying it for you, and you don’t even play it. Don’t get me started on your nonexistent bass guitar skills, and the art you say you are good at but never practice.

you will be stuck working at target the rest of your life. You will never move out of the hellhole of your parents house.

All you are good for is doing housework and sex.

Your friends may say they love you, but they are blind to how stupid you are.

you dont deserve anything nice.

All you do is break the rules, because you think you are better than everyone else.

your grandpa is wasting his money paying for your college tuition.

Go ahead, cut yourself, cry like a baby, get drunk, eat until you get fatter and forget your problems. I hope you kill yourself oneday: Put yourself and your loved ones out of their misery.

sincerely,

me