So mortified

A few weeks ago, I told you about the “Mortified” Valentine’s Day show, which features people reading letters, poems, and diary entries from their heartbroken youth.
The “Mortified” producers wanted one Love Letters reader to perform at tonight’s event, so I asked for submissions. Those same producers chose one winning entry, and this is it, below. (I removed all names — including the writer’s — to protect the guilty.)

– Meredith

As a preface, this was written after my prom date (who went to another school) found out that his prom was the same night, so he told me he couldn’t come to mine. On the plus side, since I was the cool chick at the prom with no date, another [unrequited crush] asked me if I would like to get my picture taken with him. You should see the picture. I am BEAMING because [unrequited crush] was holding my elbow … while his 6-foot glamazon girlfriend looked on. Of course, I have a giant zit on my forehead.
“A Life That Sucks”
How do you know when you’ve been dealt the wrong hand?
When you find that things aren’t going your way?
When you feel like you’ve gotten to the lowest point in life?
No, because I’ve been to that point, and I should have been happy to be there, because since then I’ve only sunken lower.
I think it is when you stop and think.
When you really analyze yourself and realize you can’t see what you’ve done that’s so wrong that your life has gotten this bad.
That’s when you really know that you have a [expletive] life.
And it sucks.
For kicks, here are a few of the other entries. This one is from a Love Letters lurker who wrote a poem about her teacher when she was in 9th grade. (For the record, the teacher did not reciprocate her feelings.)
I Know
I know some day you’ll love me.
I know someday you’ll care.
I know someday you’ll need me,
and hope I’ll always be there.
But if someday you don’t,
you know I’ll understand.
You see, I love you deeply.
And I always will.
So, keep these thoughts within you,
in case you ever do.
This entry is also from a regular lurker who found a series of diary entries from 1993.
Thursday, June 3rd 1993
…”I think I’m going to ask [boy’s name] to the Spring Dance. Mom doesn’t think I should ask anyone — they should ask me. But what’s the point of waiting around? If you want something to happen, you may as well do it yourself right? Right. Now if only I had the guts. I’ll figure something out. Good night.”
Friday, June 4th 1993
“Dear Diary, As you know I wanted to ask [boy’s name] to the Spring Dance today. But I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I don’t know why! I must do it Monday if I’m going to do it at all…”
Sunday, June 6th 1993
“Dear Diary… First the good news — I asked [boy’s name] to the Spring Dance and he said yes! I can’t believe I actually did it. Maybe it was all a dream! I’m not sure anymore! Aaah! This is scary! I guess I’ll deal though!”
Friday, June 11th 1993
“Dear Diary, Today was the Spring Dance. I guess you think I went with [boy’s name], huh? Well I didn’t. On Monday he canceled. Wednesday he called to tell me he was going to ask someone else. On Thursday he asked [girl’s name] and tonight he went with her. Oh well. I had fun anyway. I looked good! My feet hurt from dancing now. It was worth it though! After the dance we went to Friendly’s and had ice cream. I danced with [other boy’s name]. I want to make someone LIKE me. More later. Goodnight!”
And then there’s this one, a letter from a Love Letters reader to a celebrity. I love it.
Dear Ben,
Good luck with your recovery.
I know you can do it.
[writer’s name]
(Accompanied by a dozen red roses, sent August 2001 to Promises Rehab Center in Malibu. Attention Mr. Ben Affleck)