Andrew Snowdon

Archive for February, 2010|Monthly archive page

Open letter to my emo friends

In Uncategorized on Thursday 25 February 2010 at 0:31

Breakup season appears to have hit a lot of the people I know pretty hard this year. Because I care about youthem, I have some words of advice.

Alright, it’s not really advice, per se.



Dear friend,

I understand what you’re going through. I’ve been through it a few times myself.

Life is tough. Love, or what you call love, is tough. It doesn’t always go the way you want it to. There is such a thing as heartbreak. It’s very, very real. It can darken your sky, take the wind out of your sails, and sap you of the will to live. It can rob you of your appetite. It can make you feel absolutely alone.

It’s about the lowest feeling that there is.

And everybody’s been there.

So they don’t need to hear about it more than once. And by they, I mean we.

See, love is like a horse. If you fall off a horse, you pick yourself up, dust yourself off, get back on, and ride. If the horse falls and breaks its leg, however, you kinda have to shoot the horse.

You have to shoot the horse, because if you don’t, you are going to end up dragging that damn horse around with you after it’s long dead and beating it in public.

As someone who’s done more than their fair share of flipping out over failed relationships (and I am acutely sorry for it now), let me tell you how this goes down:

Let’s say you get dumped. Day one (I’m speaking in terms of days here, but if it’s a really long relationship you can scale it up accordingly), you tell everyone, all of your friends, how brokenhearted you are. As good friends, they pat you on the back, buy you drinks, and generally try their best to make you feel better. That’s perfectly healthy and normal.

Day two, you’re still pretty broken up, which is understandable. You can expect some words of encouragement from the people you know, and maybe even support from one or two particularly close friends.

Day three of publicly moping about your breakup is met with uncomfortable silence. Yes, we know. You broke up. Your world is over. At this stage, people are no longer hoping you get over it for your own sake; they’re hoping you get over it so they don’t have to hear about it anymore.

If you’re still going on about it on day four, your (remaining) friends are probably starting to sympathize with the person that dumped you. I mean, if you’re this whiny, then, yeah, we can kind of see how someone would get tired of that. Congratulations, you’ve irreparably embarrassed yourself. Try getting a date in your social circle now.

Trust me, as fun as that cycle might sound, it isn’t. For anyone. Not you, not your friends, not your poor ex. Not your mom.

We do care about you.

Don’t make it hard.

Love,

Andrew.

PS: Poetry’s fine. Music’s fine. Paintings are fine. Just don’t force it down anyone’s throat. Some of the best art comes from melancholy. Use it. Create something.

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