Dear Ego,

Dear ego,

I am tempted to start by saying, "Hello, it's me." That line worked millions for Adele, but I doubt it will work for your pride, my dearest.

My dearest betrothed, I have been lately thinking about you, me, and our relationship. It has been more than a decade since I wrote to you, my beloved. A sad frown crosses my beautiful face as I recall our fallout. I was an eleven-year-old girl, seeking and lost. The last letter was in the form of a composition for an English assignment (it may sound petty, but both of us are always petty). My best friend.

My love, I wrote about you. You stabbed me in the back and wrote about arrogance as your best friend. It wasn't long before you discovered that arrogance wrote about stupidity as his best friend. This cycle went on throughout the class, except for Betrayal; no one wrote about him, ironic! He could not be trusted; he was a short-term friendship type of person. Only two people were loyal enough to write about each other: Humility and success, the weaklings of the class.

My dear, I am not writing a "do you remember" letter; I am writing because I have come of age, and since we are betrothed, I thought it was wise to let you know your bride is ripe. Yesterday, I met with Humility, with the same usual features: a slender body, a smiling face, and a forgetful nature, since he cheerfully greeted me. It's like he forgot we bullied him. Other than that, he has grown tall, and oh! Before I forget, he was with success. I don't know where envy came from (you know that bitter, conceited guy always appears without notice); anyway, he kept me company.

During my time with Humility, I learned one or two, three things. Unlike you, my dear, who is plump (all pun intended) because you live to take, Humility is slender because he lives to give. He is taller because he looks up to people, unlike you, who grow shorter because you look down on people.

I could have made this letter shorter by going straight to the point, not overusing the endearments. But honey, this was the only sure way of you reading this, just by feeding your pride. To sum up my motive for the letter, let's break up. Set me free, or I'll elope with Humility. His friends are loyalty, success, and wisdom. Your friends are all the essence of betrayal, failure, and violence. We both know you hide behind arrogance, who is a coward and hides behind folly to prove he knows better. And when you fail, you look for violence, then betrayal runs to hide when a fall comes. Before I fall, my dear, I am with Humility on our way to success and happiness.

Adios, my love, till we never cross paths.

Yours,

Misunderstood girl.