Friday, August 12, 2011

A letter to my pimples

Dear Acne,

I am 22 years old now. This is no longer considered "on the brink of teenagerdom." It's quite beyond teenagerdom, in fact, and so you need to stop harassing me.

You need to accept that what we had is in the past and move on. You'll find someone new, someone young and naive enough to put up with your abuse, but as for me, I've outgrown you. I used to simply cover everything up so nobody would suspect that there was something between us. Should I really have to stoop that low? No, I shouldn't, and I can see that now in my advanced years. Covering it up just makes everything worse in the long run, which leads to more and more that I have to desperately try to hide.

I have new worries now, like Wrinkles and Fine Lines and Signs Of Aging, and I can't deal with all of you at the same time. You were never good for my self-esteem anyway; you constantly broke my heart and made me feel like the ugliest girl in school. I don't need that kind of unhealthy relationship, so I beg you, leave, and never show your ugly, scarred, red, scaly, flaky, oozing, bumpy, pus-filled face around here again.

Sincerely,

Amanda

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