It’s me, Caroline. You remember me, I publicly called you out on your sham relationship you were in back in college, which of course you resented me for and haven’t spoken to me since…because I was right and everyone knew. (Most likely.) Whatever, the past is the past, and I have no interest in apologizing for it even though I was a total mess back when I said that.
I heard recently that you’ve completed your graduate work and got a job. That’s so great, congratulations!
I also heard that said job is in the next town over from where you grew up, and that you’ll be moving back in with your parents when you start working.
That’s so, so awesome! I’m so happy for you! Man, I’m so jealous — getting to move back to your small town and live at home. Ugh, I wish I could just live with Mom and Dad again — share a bathroom with my brothers, have a curfew again. All I really want to do is just leave this metropolitan city and my downtown apartment and boyfriend so I can live with Mommy and Daddy again.
Wait, hang on, I’m not jealous. Not even in the slightest. Ooops!
Oh, by the way: I have a boyfriend. I know, I know! Surprise! All this time, you were so convinced that I wasn’t capable of a relationship because one time six years ago I got to date someone for the very first time and I screwed it up because he and his soulmate professed their feelings for each other and I handled it poorly because 1) I had some abandonment problems from being ostracized by my entire group of friends a month before I graduated from high school, and 2) because I’d never dated someone before. Geez, what a fuck-up I am.
But a lot has changed since 2007 and I found a man who isn’t in love with someone else, who treats me well, and who doesn’t put up with my princess behavior so I’ve started acting like a human being.
(But our enmity and rivalry will always give my life purpose, don’t worry.)
Now that you’re going to be living with your parents in your hometown, it doesn’t matter that I live below the poverty line, that my boyfriend doesn’t own a car because he would rather make movies than pay for a car, or that I work two retail jobs to live. Because I live in an apartment and not with my parents, because I live and work in Denver and not where I grew up or where my parents live, because I’m in a relationship with someone who can keep it in his pants even when he’s drunk, because I don’t belittle our mutual friend for working a job that technically isn’t in the field she went to college for even though the job is very fulfilling to her and is a very worthy cause. Remember, that job afforded her to move out of her parents’ house and away from her hometown.
She and I win.
Forever your enemy,
P.S. I’m not afraid of you. Go ahead and smack-talk until you’re blue in the face. xoxo