You know what?

This is no dress rehearsal.
Maybe I don't even want to be in the play.

Freshman self,

I know it seems really impossible. But tell him you like him. Tell him that you can't stand drugs. Tell him you think he's cute. And in a year or two, listen to your friends. It'll make a world of difference.

-Just trying to help.

Why...

I can't believe I believe you.

I won't.

Why would I move there? So I can fall in love with you and be miserable until you dump me? So I can be alone with absolutely no comfort? I won't do it.

...

So you're not interested?

You know.

You really made me smile tonight.
Thank you.

Remember.

"There are an estimated 6.802 billion people on this planet and out of all of them you somehow have talked yourself into believing that not a single one of them is going to love you as you should be. Maybe you’ve got terrible luck, or terrible taste, or maybe you fall in love with every doe-eyed, long-eyelashed, acoustic-guitar strumming boy. Maybe you fall in love with every rosy-cheeked, clever-mouthed, bright-eyed girl. We are the Lloyd Doblers and Diane Courts of our generation. We are Duckie, Andie Walsh, Rob Gordon, Kat Stratford, Patrick Verona. We are Tom Hansen, and Summer Finn. We are Josie Geller: never been kissed, hopeless romantics, looking for love around every corner.

There are an estimated 6.802 billion people on this planet, so you will find someone. You will find some to love, and to love you in return because it is inevitable and worth believing in, and I have never believed in something more."

Letters from the Crushed

you

have probably forgotten

me