To: condorboy
Date: Saturday, February 18—4:10 PM
Subject: sorry
You and your fucking “I” statements! Sometimes it makes me sick how well-adjusted you are. Are there support groups for people raised by therapists? Sorry I was mean. Sorry I am mean. Sorry for all of my fucking faults that seem to have no end. It’s like I have no control over it sometimes. These bitchy things just come out and I won’t even know about it until I realize someone’s pissed off at me. It feels like everyone’s pissed off at me right now. I guess I’ve been saying a lot of bitchy things lately, but the fucked-up thing is I don’t even know what they were.
Have you noticed I’m not yelling? I’m trying really hard to stay calm. See? I try, I really do. But it never seems to matter. It’s such hard work lately for me to just try to be a normal person, let alone try to be better than normal, which you obviously are and which you deserve and expect me to be, but I can never be no matter how hard I try.
So you want honesty? Okay, here’s the deal. I think I’m a little jealous of Jeremy. There, I said it. It seems so stupid and childish, but I guess I feel mad sometimes because I don’t have a Jeremy and you do. You’re one of those people who people like, and you have a Jeremy, and even though you’re a little weird and artsy, the kids at your school seem to think you’re one of them to some extent. You’re surrounded by real, live people every day who are glad or at least not pissed off that you exist. That must be nice. I try to imagine what it feels like, but I honestly can’t. I don’t know what it feels like to have a parent who seems genuinely glad you’re her kid, teachers and classmates who don’t look at you like they wish you’d just drop out already and save them the trouble of dealing with you for the rest of the school year. Wah, wah, wah. I turn into such a whiner when I feel hyper. I think you’re right about me drinking too much coffee. Maybe I should cut down. Yeah right, like that’s going to happen.
I hope you have a good time down south and all that jazz. I’ll just be sitting here trying not to explode all weekend. Don’t let Jeremy take advantage of you, and don’t let those frisky coeds slip anything into your drink. Hey, I just thought of something! If I go to Reed and you go to Evergreen, we’ll only be like an hour away from each other! Not that we’re much farther away from each other now, but something about a body of water makes it seem like you’re in another world.
Love,
Iz