This is a letter to the old me that existed only months ago.
Dear old Sarah,
You are gone; I don’t need the razor blade anymore. I ate lunch today for the first time in three years. I’ve found a guy who actually loves me for who I am. I have written so many poems that I continually have writer’s cramp. It may sound kind of silly, but the art and the poetry help. Ever since I met Dylan, I have had no need for self- harm, anorexia or alcohol. So, for the last time, Sarah with the bad habits, the anger and depression: Goodbye. You made my life miserable, and I never want to see you ever again.
I just found this on Google soo.