Letter to the Very Nice but so Not Right

Dear Boy, (I'm sorry but that's what you are)

I don't like the way you smell,

or the way you dress.

I don't like your job,

or the way you talk.

I don't like the way you act around me,

or the way you act around your friends.

I don't like anything about you really.

And it's not because I don't like you as a person...no that's not it at all. You're great I'm sure. It's just I don't like you because you're wrong. So very very wrong for me. You were probably very right for me some time ago.. yes, my 19 year old self would have swooned at the attention. But not this me. This me knows what she wants and I'm sorry.. you're just not it. And, actually I don't think we should hang out again, of course we'll see each other, we have to. But please don't be nice to me, and don't stare as I walk by. And I won't talk to you, or smile at you. It might be better if we pretended we didn't know each other at all. I know this probably comes off as terribly rude, I just don't want there to be any confusion later on or mixed signals or anything like that. So, this is goodbye. Thanks for everything, really.

Sincerely,

Just-not-interested-no-matter-how-hard-I-try

Because

It's because I can't keep my room clean

Because I can't stop watching Grey's Anatomy,

It's because I have this thing inside me,

This thing that I'm now apart of

Because that thing is cozy now,

Where once it was lonely.

It's because none of my clothes fit,

and I don't like them anyway

It's because of this ache,

That is so incredibly difficult

It's because effortless beauty is lost

Because I don't know how to get it back.

It's because of this energy,

Because of this anger.

It's because of these friendships,

Because of our pain

It's this adventure,

That doesn't seem so very exciting at times,

This ride,

That sometimes seems more scary than fun,

It's this thing,

This thing inside of me

That I just don't know what to do with.