I hate the truth.
I hate it when you understand, finally, why you’re in so much pain, and it has nothing to do with you.
It has to do with your stupid ex boyfriend and your stupid best friend and you don’t even matter, because the truth doesn’t care about you.
And Eva, if you’re reading this, I hate you the most. I hate you for sleeping with Reed. I hate you for breaking up the only thing that ever made me feel like I belonged to anyone. I hate you for ruining the last six months of my life and I hate you for making me hate The Velvet Underground and The Annex and all the sushi joints in Williamsburg and Cafeteria in Chelsea and the way in the morning you can see sunrise through the blinds and all the other things that Reed and I shared together.
But you know what?
I really, really hate that you told me that you did it. Because now, not only do I hate Reed more than ever, but I know – more than ever – that the next guy I meet and the next guy I like and the next guy I date is gonna be one of yours.
You’ll like him. You’ll want him. And I’ll get him.
And do you know why, Eva?
Because your karma is now right down there with Saddam Hussein’s, or whomever decided that another season of American Idol is a good idea.
And if I can promise you anything, Eva, it’s this. You’ll get what you deserve. Which is less than zero. And I’m going to have the best Year of Jenny ever, without you.
Oh, and I’m taking Sophia and Sebastian with me.