Dear Girl in My Old Dress,

I hope that the hand-me-down love is worth it.

I hope that his feelings hold out longer than the attention spans of the other assholes who got sick of fucking you and moved on.

I hope that you manage to grow the fuck up so that you can experience something that lasts longer and feels better than sex with a semi-attractive stranger in the backseat of your car does.

I hope that when the two of you kiss, everyone can forget about how I stained both of your lips and your hearts, and you can just pretend like I never even existed.

I hope that it's that kind of good.