Oh, hello there.
I almost didn’t see you behind that bush over there. See, I guess I thought you were long gone by now. You know, with me doing well and all.
I just assumed you’d taken a one-way ticket to your destination of choice. It’s a great time to visit Poconos I hear. Or maybe Aspen once the leaves start to turn. I figured you wouldn’t be around anymore after things started to take off for me, professionally speaking.
I’m sure you’ve heard the big news. Yes, I got my first book deal this year. And yes, everyone is very proud. As you know I’ve spent the past four years on this project and it’s all coming to fruition, finally.
I bet you’ve also been following my Instagram closely to see that I’m exercising a lot more these days and trying to get healthy. It’s a long process but I’m already starting to see and feel a difference from the small changes I’ve made so far.
And hadn’t you heard? I’m doing more comedy than I have in years. I’m performing all over, working on new material, and even teaching a few writing classes in comedy and other genres that are meaningful and fun for me.
Yet here you are.
I must admit I’m not excited to see you. In fact, I wish you’d go back to your stupid bush and leave me alone if I’m being honest with you.
Because you’re starting to cramp my style.
A few months after being offered a book deal, you showed up. You showed up during a lunch date with a new friend I’d just made. A friend I was really trying to impress and make a connection with. And you were actually quite rude.
You interrupted me mid-conversation to remind me that it could all come crashing down in an instant and that it wasn’t really a big deal anyway. You embarrassed me in front of this new friend, so much so that she called you out on the spot. I apologized profusely on your behalf and felt so bad I bought her a slice of cheesecake.
I thought maybe that spectacle would have deterred you, but you showed up again at a comedy show and told me I wasn’t funny and that I was trying too hard to make trauma funny, something I’ve been working really hard on this year and actually felt good about.
And let’s not even start on the other night, at the club. I was comfortable in my outfit and having a really nice time dancing with my friends at the bar and then you rolled up to inform me that I couldn’t pull off the outfit (because I’m “pudgy” as you said) and that I was just the “(not even really) funny best friend” role in a romantic comedy and that I’d never get a guy in real life.
That shit hurt.
And now. Today. You’ve shown up unannounced yet again, a mere month before my book comes out to tell me more horrible things:
That my book won’t sell.
That my book won’t sell (because it’s shit).
Oh, and that I am shit.
That people will not buy my book because it is shit and I am shit.
That I will never be as successful as I want to be (because of said reasons above).
I can’t believe you would say these things to me. From what, the little cave that you live in?
You fucking coward.
And worse? Your behavior has started to impact how I behave around other people! Because of you, I’ve hidden my true self. I’ve had melt downs in public. I’ve even said things to people that I’m not proud of.
I drank your Kool-Aid.
And it’s disgusting.
I never even liked Kool-Aid.
I don’t want you around anymore. I really don’t.
For a while, I humored you and let you hang around because I didn’t really think you were capable of wreaking that much havoc on my life. You could sit in on my conversations, follow me to the bus stop, even come to work with me without causing too much of a problem. But now it’s time to go.
For good.
I’m dancing around things but let me come right out and say it right here and now: I’m breaking up with you.
I’m banishing you from my life. It’s not me. It’s you. And you fucking suck.
Take this as your cue to leave, forever. Go ahead, discover yourself in the mountains, take that trip to Brazil you’ve always wanted. I don’t give a shit where you go but you are not welcome here. Take some vows and become a nun for all I care. Just. Go. Away.
The road before me is too exciting and promising to take you along with me. Shit, I’ll probably get there faster without you dragging me down the whole way there. I’m actually pretty eager to see where I end up now that we’re cutting ties and all.
Do not try and follow me.
I am blocking you on all social media channels.
Don’t make me get a restraining order. You know I’ll fucking do it.
Please take your box of sad, weird notes and knickknacks that you’ve given me over the years and leave my apartment. Don’t make this harder than it is, okay?
I can’t really say we “had good times” because well, we didn’t. You’ve always been a pain in my ass and I don’t know how I’ve put up with you for so long. I know that sounds harsh but it’s just the truth. And you’ve done nothing but spew lies to me all this time so at least one of us can be honest about something.
After all of this is said and done I hope you realize how good I was to you all that time, letting you hang around me and lowering my standards so that you wouldn’t feel so out of place and strange in my life.
But let’s get real. I’ve outgrown you. And I’m sorry to say that we’re just headed in different directions. Me to my bright future, and you to…well, shit I don’t know what you’ll do. Like I said I don’t care.
Goodbye, and good luck becoming someone else’s problem.
Peace out,
Mimi
P.S. I’ve changed all my Netflix, HBO, and Hulu passwords. #sorrynotsorry