Stop Shaming Me and Fix Your Own Stupid Atmosphere
I have been wanting to write this letter for the longest time, but I didn’t know how to put it in the right words. However, this needs to be said: I’m afraid that I can’t continue being with you anymore. As much history as we share, I can’t stay in this dead relationship. I know in most relationships, there’s the whole “it’s not you, it’s me” schtick, in order to spare the other person’s feelings. Naw, bitch. It’s you.
You’ve changed since we got together. I mean when we first met, you were a fine, young 4.477 billion-year-old piece of work. Full, cool, clear blue water all over that fine body of yours, with those luscious plants and trees. You know I like those types of things and also need those to like, you know, live. But now look at you; you’re an old, decrepit 4.543 billion-year-old hag and frankly, you kinda let yourself go. I mean your ice caps are melting, you’re losing your land and you’re always getting hotter and hotter (and not in a “your butt looks great kinda way,” but in an “I need sunscreen in December way.”) I mean how did you even get like this?
I know what you’re going to say. “It’s your fault why I’m this way.” Christ, why don’t you take some responsibility for what you’ve done and not act like you didn’t do anything? I mean you keep bringing up how like 97% of your dumb scientist friends say it’s my fault and that I’m the problem. Only 97%? Come on, Germ-X kills 99% of germs. There’s a 2% gap between your “super-smart scientist friends” and hand sanitizer. I can’t trust that. I can’t trust that gap. You know what makes it even worse, you even have a little girl fighting your battles. That girl…what’s her name…Greta? That little Swedish girl is yelling at me like I owe her money. Isn’t she like five years old or something? Shouldn’t she be watching Teletubbies?
What hurts me the most is that the only way you agree to change is to have me change. Like, I’m supposed to give up cows for you? Like really? You were all fine and dandy with the cows for the last few centuries, but now because of Methane or some crap like that, I can’t eat them. If God had a problem with me eating cows, He wouldn’t have made them so delicious and delectable, with sweet tender meat, especially on a medium-rare steak where the juices flow as you cut the…I’m sorry, where was I? Oh, yeah. If it’s between you and beef, then beef is too damn tasty to give up. You ain’t worth a cow, Boo.
I swear this last part is not going to be easy for you to read. I’ve been seeing someone else for a while. They’re a close friend of yours: Mars. I know it seems sudden, but is it though? You’ve let me step outside the relationship for like the last fifty years, especially with the moon. I know you went along with that just to make me happy, but it just seems like the only excitement I get is from everyone else but you. If it helps, Mars reminds me of a younger you. You know, before you got gross.
We’ll always have the good times we shared. Like Eden, that was amazing until the whole apple bru-ha-ha. You know what? My bad. My fault on that one. And when you broke up with your former boo, the dinosaurs, just to get with me. Although now, I envy those poor bastards. I wish that you would let that comet hit me instead so I don’t have to deal with you.
So I’m moving in with Mars. Just as soon as I get the things I need like oxygen, water, food, protection against radiation – I’m leaving your ass. I mean I also need soil to grow things, seeds to plant in said soil, my favorite coffee mug, my charger. You know what, why don’t you make it easier for both of us and just give me all those things then we won’t have to deal with each other. It’s the least you can do.\
P.S. Since you obviously hate the precious cows, why don’t I take them off your hands until you figure yourself out? It would be nice for those tasty angels to have some sustainability in their life. Plus, stress makes them less tasty and the meat all stiff.
Kevin Gyasi-Frempah is a first year writing major who eats four cows a day to spite global warming activists. You can reach them at firstname.lastname@example.org.