an open letter to our lord and savior, god
Dear God,
I get it. You don't want to be with me anymore. If you'd wanted to break up so badly, you could have just told me. You didn't have to give me the shittiest 2 weeks ever. For example, giving me the very first and very last final times? NOT ROMANTIC. Or maybe the time I took those painkillers and instead of making me tired they kept me up all night? Or maybe this morning. When you woke me up at 6 am with an automated call saying that my flight was cancelled. And then I spent 45 minutes trying to get ahold of a person who works for United. And they told me to go to SFO. So I hurried. And I went. And I got there, and my flight was cancelled again. And then my mom told me that the soonest flight they could get me was on Sunday. Which is cool because I only have my pre-op appointment tomorrow. And I'd maybe like to be home for more than 3 days without not being able to lift my arms over my head. That would be nice. But fine, God, fine. I understand. You're over me. That's cool. I just have one request. Please let me get on a standby flight tomorrow. Please, God, please. Put your personal hatred for me aside for 24 hours and just let me get on the fucking plane. Or I swear I'll wage personal war against you. And I read Paradise Lost, I can learn from others' mistakes. DO NOT FUCK WITH ME.
your ex,
Laura
I get it. You don't want to be with me anymore. If you'd wanted to break up so badly, you could have just told me. You didn't have to give me the shittiest 2 weeks ever. For example, giving me the very first and very last final times? NOT ROMANTIC. Or maybe the time I took those painkillers and instead of making me tired they kept me up all night? Or maybe this morning. When you woke me up at 6 am with an automated call saying that my flight was cancelled. And then I spent 45 minutes trying to get ahold of a person who works for United. And they told me to go to SFO. So I hurried. And I went. And I got there, and my flight was cancelled again. And then my mom told me that the soonest flight they could get me was on Sunday. Which is cool because I only have my pre-op appointment tomorrow. And I'd maybe like to be home for more than 3 days without not being able to lift my arms over my head. That would be nice. But fine, God, fine. I understand. You're over me. That's cool. I just have one request. Please let me get on a standby flight tomorrow. Please, God, please. Put your personal hatred for me aside for 24 hours and just let me get on the fucking plane. Or I swear I'll wage personal war against you. And I read Paradise Lost, I can learn from others' mistakes. DO NOT FUCK WITH ME.
your ex,
Laura