Dear Frenemy by Monet Bouie

Dear Frenemy,

Before I begin, how are you? I hope you’re doing well. But then again, I hope you burn in Hell. Haha! Anyways, I decided to write this letter to commemorate our accomplishments and future while nostalgically looking at our past. From our passive-aggressive quorls and glares to spilling tea in the writing center and hanging out in a mutual friends basement, this year has been one hell of a ride. I’ll make it short, because you don’t deserve a long letter.

Our story began on a stage our freshmen year in a class taught by a buffoon. It’s funny, I’ve known about you for four years, yet I don’t have a single memory of you before this year. I knew you only by your name. You were funny (lookin’), great at improvisation, and had luscious mahogany locs that cascaded to your shoulders.  And frankly, you were a little weird. Despite the fact that I perceived you as a pale and strange, little leprechaun, you’ve always had this magnetic aura that attract our peers and teachers that I’ve been jealous of.

Fast forward to this year and, oh boy, what a year is has been! It’s as if every interaction with you is a swift and painful slap on the back of my neck. You have track record for making me look like a fool! Whenever you’re around I tense up and I’m ready with a rebuttal to any stupid thing you say (and there’s a lot of them). You’re a dramatic and narcissistic asshole who lives and breaths Chick-fil-A. You scarf down poptarts, manspread, and you walk around a room like you own the place. And, sure, you choked on a chicken biscuit, so what? Honestly, I don’t think I’ve ever met someone who’s annoyed so much in my life. Yet again, I’ve never felt such admiration for someone my age.

Although I get a migraine whenever you’re in a 5-yard radius, I appreciate you. Through my envy of your creativity and writing, I’ve pushed myself to become a better writer. Without you I wouldn’t be warming up to improv. Without you I wouldn’t have worked with an amazing cast on an priceless 10-minute play this spring. Without you I wouldn’t have worked my butt of to get more conferences in the writing center. Now listen, I know this sounds sappy. I don’t really care for you and you don’t care for me either. But even if we don’t talk in the future, I’d like to let you know that you are a key part of my senior year.

Thanks and I wish you the best.

-Monet

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *