Dear (spray tan),

I never thought that you would turn into a girl that drinks, because you're silly enough sober to be honest.  That's more of a compliment than anything else, but it's disappointing that you ended up the way you did.

I think that the break-up really really changed you.  I think you were far too invested in the boyfriend and you let yourself get away.  But then again, the reason I really don't like you is because I think you stole from me.  I think that you took what was mine, something that was mine.  You were with the boyfriend at the time, and you had no reason at all to steal anyone, but you did.  You took him. 

I wonder if you'll read this.  I mean, if you do, I guess this isn't anything I wouldn't tell you if you asked me.  But you don't even talk to me anymore, and I'm not complaining of your absence because we weren't that great of friends to begin with, but I kind of thought we had that elementary school bond going.  Like, I got your back.  But I suppose it was all in my head, because you didn't really have my back at all. 

Whatever.  The only reason I'm writing this is because I haven't posted in here in forever and I was just thinking about that situation.

Hayley

Dear craptop,

Fuck you.  You think you're so FUNNY because you make the internet STOP WORKING when I have homework to e-mail and facebook to face.  It's not funny at all.   You need to stop or I'm going to commit hate crimes to both you and you're buddy, my cellular device, because you're both acting like jackasses tonight and I am SICK AND TIRED of your hilarious games.  

Shut the fuck up.  I hate you.

Hayley

Dear (unfriended),

You have been unfriended by Hayley Hartman for infractions upon the "posting like people care" clause in the Hayley Hartman Friend Contract.


In posting about your musical tastes on repeated occasions and assuming that people give any shit about what's on your iPod, Hayley has deemed you unfit for her facebook friends and has therefore unfriended you.  You do not have to take it personally, though you may if you like.  It's a little personal.


You have been notified.


With regret,
The Hayley Hartman Facebook Management Team

Dear (ya ass),

I don't really know what you meant when you said "i just spent a good 10 minutes reading your blog."  And that was just the first confusing thing you said.  Were you making the point that this is the first time you've given me 10 minutes of your time in months?  or is it that the intelligence contained in my blog is just so surprising to you that you' had to take 10 minutes to figure it out?

And then after you said that confusing and probably also insulting comment, you told me that what I wrote was, what was it, "rash" I think?  What the hell are you talking about?  It's like you think that I started my blog to be polite.  I didn't.  I started it because I wanted to talk about whatever in the world and I wanted to feel good saying it.  Not like I was clogging up  someone's newsfeed.

Then you told me something along the lines of that it's brave of me to be writing my blog and to keep it up.  I hope you realize that I don't write it so that jackasses like you can spend their first 10 minutes on me in a year and think about me but because I like to write it.  I don't do it for you.

I do it for me.

Rashly,
Hayley

Dear (you know who you are),

This is the first letter I'll type but never send and it's to you.  I got the title idea from Laura as she drove me home from your party, and we talked about how much I wish me and you were together.  And then I told her I wanted to create a blog where I write letters to people and tell them the things I cannot say.  I think she interpreted it as that I'm planning on writing hate letters to people and so the title "you know who you are" is supposed to be a bit menacing.  It's not though.

I know that you're a really nice guy, and maybe you're just that nice to everyone but I'm not sure.  I just see you look over at me and for some reason I always feel special when you do.  And that's just when you look at me.  And I get butterflies every time you reach out and touch me.  Maybe you do that to everyone.  Maybe you put butterflies in everyone's stomachs that fly through your fingertips as you make contact with their skin.

But I would like to think that it's just me.

Sometimes I try to forget how much I like you.  Sometimes I actually do forget.  But then you reach out and pat me on the back or smile at me and the feeling in my stomach reminds me.

I know that you have her already, and that you love her.  I trust that you wouldn't spend so much time on someone who doesn't deserve it, so good for you for finding someone good and worth your time and who you like.

Unfortunately for me I'll be waiting in choir every day for a freak twist of fate where you ask me to prom.  I guess I'm writing this so that you know that I'm there for you and I wish you would know that.  Even though she's already there for you.  

Now that I've said that, I don't know what else to say except for this:  the fact that I speak Arabic is interesting, but while we're talking about how great I am, I can also do a back flip.

Love,
Hayley