2/21/11

final day: day 7

Dear Me,

Hello, me. You've done wonderfully this week. Mostly ups, which is beyond amazing, and whatever downs came this way were handled with grace. I continue to learn, slowly. For example: second chances should always be given, but third-fourth-fifth-twentieth-hundredth chances are for the weak at heart who cannot see that they are being played, and I now see that I am being played. There will not be a hundred-and-first chance.

There is a man with a big smile and a poetic mind and a romantic insistence who finds me attractive. Maybe he'll be wonderful. Or maybe he's just a stepping stone. Does it particularly matter? No, not really. Because I know that I'll be okay no matter what. All I really need are books, cats, friends, family, and really wonderful food, and I have all of the above. I'm set. Anything beyond those are happy leisures.

To the next six months: may these letters treat you as kindly as that sketchy, back-door study result said they would.

And to me: it may not always seem like it, and some days may be especially hard to see this through the murk of it, but I came out on top. I am the queen of my own dimension.

Suck it ;)

Love,
me.

P.S. - It may just be some twisted psychology, but when I hug my currently sweat-drenched legs, they feel thinner. Win.

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