Open Letter: How Can We Break Up Without Me Having To Tell You?

[My mother unearthed several boxes of letters from my childhood. I have no clue why they were saved, but what’s mine is yours. And if there is one thing more ridiculous than my current life, it would have to be all the time leading up to my current life.  Hence, I started writing about these gems and refer to them as – the Open Letters]

If there’s one thing that I suck at more than commitment, it’s breaking those commitments.  And leaving bowls of half-eaten Eggos in the backseat of my car. But whatever. Sometimes a piece of toast sneaks in there, but only when things really get off the hook.

In other words, I’m non-confrontational.

And from the looks of these pictures and the following letter, that trait started long, long ago.



As I explained on my last blog So I Fell Asleep In A Few Bible Classes, I never dated until I was almost out of high school.  So you can imagine my shock, when after reading through these letters, I see that several boys thought they were dating me. I’m not sure if that was my fault or theirs. But I like to think that given the Baptist school setting, relationship lines were a bit blurred.  I’m pretty sure if you sat next to someone in Chapel [far enough apart so that a King James Bible could fit in between you, of course] then your families would be having a joint brunch that following Sunday to discuss whose aunt would be singing a hymn at the wedding.  If you’d like to read more about my Baptist school experience and how I used to be in a gang, please go here.

From what I can deduce, I received this letter circa 7th grade.  Apparently, the word on the street was that I was through with this guy, except I hadn’t bothered to tell him. Unfortunately, he failed to use his awesome observation skills to detect things like the proper spelling of my name, or say, punctuation.


For more Open Letters you can check out:

Open Letter: Rejection at it’s finest

Open Letter: Dear Liar Liar, your pants are burnt to a crisp

dsc_3619edit1P.S. Don’t forget to check out my latest photography post with the cutest munchkin around!  I’ve never lied to you. As far as you know.


32 thoughts on “Open Letter: How Can We Break Up Without Me Having To Tell You?

    • yorks – i couldn’t play in it. i just didn’t want to DIE. i hate swimming!

      sherri- seriously, whats up with that. i mean HOW MUCH DOES IT COST to get bangs trimmed? furthermore, how hard is it to get them straight?!

      theresa – i know right? i hated dolls! UGH. that was the only one i ever owned. and thanks on the pics =)

  1. Okay, the pic of you (with the squash) is so you. It’s totally saying “WTF”. It is sooo cute. I never wanted a Barbie either. I was more a stuffed animal girl. No dolls for me.

    Awesome pic of the cutie in the overalls and hat. Your work is getting better and better.

  2. Oh Brit, why oh why would you have a bowl of half eaten Eggos in your back seat? First of all, why are you putting Eggos in a bowl? And second, in your car?? Are you secretly (well not so secretly now) living in your car as part of a midlife crisis? I’m concerned.

    Two things that are not adorable in any way: 7th grade relationships (especially ones where you’re not sure if you’re actually in the relationship) and babies. Babies are nothing but a life sucking leech that take your money, your time, and your energy. Then again, I suppose the same could be said for women. Sigh. Life is so hard.

    • brandon – 1. um, someone totally stopped by the other night mid-convo and i didn’t even realize i failed to tell you. sorry!!!

      2. for some reason i always have put them in a giant bowl because i always take them with in the car and after having them slide off the plate on the floor of my car with the amount of abrupt stops i make, i thought the bowl would be a better choice. it gets annoying trying to scrape off all my stray hair off the waffles.

      3. agreed.

      basia – he did have good penmanship, i’ll give him that. but really?

  3. HAHAHA! Love the photo of you swimming. I can totally relate to that one.

    Wow, at least the boy had better penmanship than most guys I know who are 25. You should have sent the letter back with the corrections! I once received one that said, “Do you like me?” and there were two boxes, one said Yes, one said No.

    • susi- i have no recollection of him asking or me agreeing to go out. no.

      yellow – oh man… i’m the WORST. single life rocks.

      skye – i have no freaking idea what my response was!!!! i probably hid behind the locker then ran to my mom’s car after school to avoid seeing him. actually, yea, i’m pretty sure thats what i did.

  4. I am so bad at breaking up with people that I haven’t dated in years for fear I’d get yet another stinker. Since I would feel guilty for hurting said stinker’s feelings I would be stuck with him until he either dumped me or I faked my death.

    I have been dumped by some of the biggest morons in the world and my pride has suffered just so I wouldn’t feel guilty.

    It’s the single life for me.

  5. Wow Brit you must have been some girl to have all these boyfriends that you didn’t even know about! I love these little notes your mom saved up for you, I’m just real curious as to the why as well as to your response to the guys that wrote them to you 😀

    • bearman – those. are. sunglasses. and some sequined outfit. apparently i got stripper barbie.

      violet- thanks! and he was very, VERY mature. a dreamboat, really. haha

      jen – i know right! i love them.

  6. Toast is a vehicle to deliver glorious, melted butter and delectable rhubarb jam to one’s taste buds.

    I’m impressed that Mr. 7th Grade cared enough to ask. He was obviously mature beyond his years.

    That baby may have the most beautiful eyes I’ve ever seen!

    • jill – why do you think i erase the names!!! they are all up on my blog. if they even remember writing those though, haha.

      carissa – wow, EVER?! thats quite amazing. i owe it all to my mom’s ridiculous squash making.

      hhh – hahaha. you’re hilarious. i need a liaison for alot of things in my life, let’s not beat around the bush.

  7. HAHAHAHA This is so amazing. The picture where you are in the highchair is quite possibly one of my favorite pics I’ve ever seen of any child ever. The look on your face is simply priceless!

  8. It appears you need a liaison to those whom you are dumping. I would be happy to take on such a duty. Here’s my response to Mr. No Grammar, “Listen, buttmunch, B doesn’t have time to deal with your illiteracy. Thank you for your time and consideration.”

    • pinky – english muffins… thats another culprit. i warned you about stealing my life.

      v – hahah. that pic is awesome.

      Dearest only remaining hope for true love in the world,

      you ARE my study hall, as i wish to study your face. for the rest of my life.

      yours truly,

  9. Dearest co-star in that two woman play I have my heart set on taking to Broadway,

    My heart is all a flutter at how much our wardrobes and atrocious hair cuts were so eerily similar. Sigh. Just one more thing to fall in love with you over.

    Eagerly awaiting for your note to get passed to me in study hall,


  10. The trip through your family photo album was priceless, and these letters. . . too much – I want MORE! Do you REALLY not remember any of this??!

  11. Pingback: Open Letter: Rejection At Its Finest

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