Dear Unnamed Recipient of This Letter,

Let's skip the preamble and just dive right into this, shall we? I'm well aware that you think we suck. All we do is hold you back from doing the things you want (and deserve- are entitled to, even!) to be doing.

But here's something you've probably never considered: you're not the most awesome person to be around, either. This may come as a surprise to you, as you seem to think that in spite of your habit of looking down on everyone else, we all put you up on some secret pedestal to admire, or maybe envy. Certainly to admire. So let me kick that pedestal right out from under your feet (don't worry, it only exists in your mind anyway).

* Sure, you're smart. You think critically, and to some extent, you understand the things that are important to you. Unfortunately, this understanding grinds to a halt at your own opinions. You make NO attempt whatsoever at trying to understand things from someone else's perspective, and instead try to brow-beat them into agreeing with you. This has two interesting side effects:

a. It makes you a hypocrite. Funny, huh? Because I know how you like to spout off about how everyone's so hypocritical. You know, all those stupid Christians who just stuff their opinions down your throat and won't listen to your thoughts? Sounding familiar yet?
b. It makes you closed-minded. It just keeps getting funnier, doesn't it? Because I know how open minded you THINK you are.

But I digress. Anyway, back to being smart- your moderate intellect makes you arrogant to the point where it's just painful to be around you sometimes. I don't understand why it isn't enough for you to be smart. Why do you need everyone else to be stupid? Why do you have to engage in these sarcastic, technicality-driven arguments? It doesn't make you look smarter than you are, and it doesn't make the person you're inflicting this torment on stupid. It just makes you an asshole.

* About being an asshole. I know that's something you like to fall back on; I hear you use it as a defense mechanism ("You knew I was an asshole! I told you that when we first met"), as a way to deflect- without actually acknowledging- defeat ("Fine, you're right and I'm the asshole"), and as a badge of honor ("Yeah, I know, I'm an asshole"). But it isn't really any of these things. It's just a trait, like your brown hair, or the fact that you're tall, only it isn't the big asset you think it is. It doesn't make you edgy or cool, or make people secretly wish they could be like you. It just makes you. . . well, an asshole.

* Your sense of entitlement frequently leaves me in enraged speechlessness. Somehow, because life didn't work out the way you thought it was going to, WE owe you something? Sorry, it doesn't work like that.
Here's what we owe you: food on your plate, a roof over your head, clothes on your back, medical treatment, and a means to remain hygienic and healthy.
Here's what we do NOT owe you: a car, insurance for that car, rides out of state to see your long distance friends, permission to come and go as you please, a steady stream of entertainment, pocket money, a fridge full of microwavable food (so that you don't have to be bothered with putting effort into feeding yourself when you don't like what I've prepared), trust (that you continue to abuse at every opportunity), and a wide variety of other things that I could drone on about, but won't.

* You don't work for anything. ANYTHING. If it requires any effort at all, you simply don't do it, unless asked specifically. And even then, it takes a few more promptings. I mean, we're all lazy sometimes, but you've elevated it into an art form.

* You tell half-truths to make people feel sorry for you. I've been suckered into this on many occasions, only to discover later that you minimized or completely omitted your own culpability in your troubles. Not cool.

* You get REALLY indignant when people have the nerve to treat you the way you treat them. I have to admit, though, I find this one amusing.

This is an incomplete picture most people have of you. Not pretty, is it? I'm sure you'll blow it off or justify it away, or outright deny it altogether, but some day I hope you'll see yourself the way we do, and use it as a tool for change. Anyway, the next time you mutter about how you just can't wait to get the hell out of here, please bear in mind: we can't either. I won't go so far as to say we'll rejoice when you're gone, but we won't cry when you go, either.

Love,
Me.