A Letter

Dear eighth grade self,

I'm sorry for all the jokes at your expense. If you'd known all the LOL'ing I would do over you in the future, would it have made it easier for you? Probably not. You would have killed yourself, wouldn't you? See, you just didn't have any sense of humor! Or any fashion sense. Sorry, honey, but that "punk" hoodie from Target never looked cool.

And your poetry sucked.

You had good times, though. Remember when Zack said you'd make a perfect future lesbian? That was funny, right? Especially when he realized you heard him. He didn't apologize, did he? Oh well.

Oh, and remember orchestra that one day? You were shaking so bad that you couldn't play. You were still better than all the other violas, though. Haha.

Ooohh, doing that dance in PE was another highlight of the year, wasn't it? Just listening to the song Men in Black made it all worth it! With your great coordination, it was a match made in heaven.

But your favorite song was "Music or the Misery." It was practically your theme song. Mostly because it had the word "misery" in the title, but still. You would turn the volume up so loud that it hurt your brain. That's what you thought angsty kids were supposed to do.

You also thought that angsty kids were supposed to sit against the wall with their knees up to their chest. That didn't make recess very fun. Well, you didn't go to recess most of the time, did you? If you couldn't stay inside your classroom, then you hid in the girls' restroom. It was nice and quiet and usually peopleless.

That trip to the guidance counselor was pretty funny, too, wasn't it? Your teachers thought you had some "issues." Of course, then it was all nervous laughter as she asked why you weren't eating at lunch. Somehow you convinced her that you might be poor, but not anorexic. That was hard work, wasn't it? Oh well. It got you out of class.

You had an eventful year, didn't you? I'm actually kind of attached to you now. I'm sorry that your self pity had to come at such an awful time. Those ideas you had were pretty scary. You held on for me, didn't you? And Katie, of course. You couldn't bear the thought of her two-year-old self asking where "Emy" was. How thoughtful of you.

Oh, the funniest thing happened to me the other day! I was at Kroger with my (our?) mom, when this lady comes by with her two kids, a little boy and a middle-school-age girl. I saw that girl and thought of you. Then I burst out laughing. See, she had your frizzy hair and that awful black eye makeup you always tried on in front of a mirror. It didn't go well with her small eyes and round, pale face. Her black t-shirt was a bit dirty and her jeans were old and too baggy. She was chubby though, so she didn't have all your problems.

She heard me laugh, I guess, and looked up at me. She gave me that no-one-understands-me look. The I-want-to-kill-you look.

It sort of broke my heart.

Anyway, I guess I'll see you later. You do come around every so often.

Love,
Your present self