Dear Ex-Best Friend

From: Megg G.
To: Bitsy C.
Date: 01/16/08 21:49:13
Subject: ...

Dear Bitsy,

I hate you.

Let me back up, since judging by recent events, you must be pretty dense. I better repeat that in capital letters just in case it didn’t get through your thick little skull the first time.

I HATE YOU.

Wait, wait, now let me bold it to make sure.

I. HATE. YOU.

How could you do this to me, Bitsy? I thought we were friends. And I don’t know what it’s like back in Nova Scotia, but you’re in Toronto now, and in Toronto, friends don’t fuck each other over. Enemies do that. I guess I must be pretty dumb, seeing as I mistook my worst enemy for a friend. I don’t even know who you are anymore.

Even in Nova fucking Scotia, you don’t just go up to a guy you don’t even know and tell him that your friend likes him. Not after third grade, anyway. Did you hand Casimir a note telling him to check a box if he wanted to sit with me in the sandbox at recess? God, Bitsy!

If I liked a guy (which I don’t, and if I did it wouldn’t be Casimir) I would do things the normal way. I would get drunk at a party and take him back to my room. That is, unless my roommate was there, in which case we would obviously go back to his place. That is the way you start a normal, healthy relationship!

Bitsy, I know you haven’t met a lot of my boyfriends – or any of them – but let me assure you, I have had many. I had, like, forty in high school alone. We went to the mall and to class and wherever the fuck boyfriends and girlfriends go when you’re in high school. I don’t remember it that well, I guess, but it happened. And I’ve been dating casually all through this year. All my boyfriends all just have really tight schedules so they can never meet my friends, even though they really want to. I know I’m usually hanging out with you on Saturday nights, downloading anime and drinking . Usually my dates with these guys are more like… Tuesday afternoons. Or Thursday mornings. What you have to understand is that I’ve had huge amounts – vast amounts! – of experience with guys. I know what I’m doing. Totally.

If I had wanted your help, you see, I would have asked you for it. If need something I know that I can come to you. Remember that time I needed those biology notes? I asked you for them! You don’t need to go trying to help me with stuff that I don’t need any help with. I’m perfectly happy with my love life, and I certainly don’t need your help with it.

Okay, I’m going to give you the benefit of the doubt here. I think you really were just trying to help. But if you had to pick a random guy to hit on in my behalf… why Casimir? Is it because I stare at him all the time? Because that’s only because he’s freakishly tall. And skinny. I mean, who goes for tall skinny geeky guys with sexy Russian accents? Not me, that’s for sure.

I mean Christ, Bitsy, the guy goes to anime conventions! I know this because I saw him at one. I was just there for, you know, sociological research. And Casimir even dresses up! What a loser. I mean, okay, he looked hot in that outfit, but still…

Fine, fine, maybe I have a tiny crush on him. But he’s out of my league! That’s why I’m so upset about this whole catastrophe. Now he’s going to think I’m some weirdo who can’t find her own adorable geeky guy so she gets her friends to pick them up for her. This sucks!

But you know what? I think you were trying to help. I think you had my best interests in mind, even if you were dead wrong. I guess things are different in Manitoba – I mean, Nova Scotia. We won’t let this get in the way of our friendship. You’re one of my best friends, you know. Yeah, you made one huge, giant, irremediable mistake… but I can forgive you. I think I overreacted when you told me you told him I liked him. I shouldn’t have thrown that plate of cheesy fries at you and stormed out of the cafeteria. I’m sorry. I don’t hate you, Bitsy…

Um, Bitsy? Bitsy?

Um… he just called me. Casimir called me. CASIMIR CALLED ME! Just now, while I was typing that. Um… we talked for like ten minutes and he, well, he’s noticed me around but he was too shy to talk to me. And… he asked me to go with him to the school’s comic book club meeting on Monday. I guess it’s like a date. Kind of.

Hey, you gave him my phone number? How could you do that? He could’ve been some creepy stalker or something!

But I can’t stay mad at you. You’re my friend. And plus, you have to help me pick out what to wear for Monday!

And whenever you want me to fuck you over, let me know – because that’s what friends are for.

- Megg