yours truly, enya

I hardly recognize you. I doubt you recognize me either. It’s hard to believe you ever truly

happened. It feels like a fever dream of things I would never do now. It’s not like I never not

noticed the changes. It’s just so automatic, then and now.

I got my nose pierced and I added blush to my make up routine. Don’t worry, my eyeliner is still

on fleek (is that cool to say?).

I haven’t changed much, but still somehow became an entirely different person. I think you

would have really liked me. I wish we could have met.

You’re not your own biggest enemy; You’re the best thing that’s ever going to happen to you.

Go to New York. Meet that one guy. Text that one friend you’re sorry. Make sure to send a

postcard to your old self, tell her the same thing. (Maybe send her a couple of bucks to help her

save for that green volkswagen beetle, she’ll one day want).

You like it better, here. I promise.

Yours Truly,

Enya