A Letter to My 25-Year-Old Self.
“Now, little boy lost, he takes himself so seriously
He brags of his misery, he likes to live dangerously”
~ Bob Dylan, Visions of Johanna
Just because this cute guy has a purple yoga mat rolled out in the corner of his hardwood hipster living room doesn’t mean you have to sleep with him.
Just because he plays bass in, you know, like, multiple bands. Just because he is a preacher’s son who is not a churchgoer but is surrounded by mugs of coffee and packs of cigarettes and lines of cocaine and everything cool and grown up and irresponsible all at once—doesn’t mean you should keep sleeping with him.
The fact that he’s there: hot, controversial and emotionally unavailable but physically, practically, immediately available doesn’t help, I know. It makes him all the more alluring.
If you could only understand. Unrequited love is no use. It is a waste of life, a total energy suck.
Know that it doesn’t matter—that kiss at midnight under the starry sky at that hole in the wall bar with the rockabilly band after everybody counted down?
“Three! Two! One! Happy New Year!”
It was a matter of proximity at 11:59 p.m. the last night of the year, A matter of tradition.
Not love. Not fate. Clinking champagne flutes. Cheers. Meaningless kisses.
It can’t be all give and no take. Some sense of balance, of equal effort, is the foundation of any good quality relationship.
Don’t make him your priority while allowing yourself to be his option. You are better than an option.
It’s so much better to be single than chasing a shitty relationship.
Nothing changes on New Year’s Day. Maybe you’re not meant to be with him again. Just because you had a good day together eating black eyed peas and drinking mimosas with your friends. A good day is not enough, even if it is a lazy, hazy January 1.
Don’t fucking settle. Or, let’s be realistic—once you have settled and realize you’ve settled, wake up and get the hell out.
Love yourself more. Respect the temple that is your body. Don’t be swayed by lust and little crushes. Hold out for love. It will be worth it.
And keep doing your yoga.
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Editor: Bryonie Wise