Dear Jacob,

Lately I have felt very hurt by all the low blows that I have been receiving in The Record.  You do not know what it is like to live in fear of which of my secrets might be reveled in the next issue.  That is why I have found it of the utmost importance to tell you in the privacy of a direct letter between you and me.  You do not know what it is like for me.  I already have so many people make fun of my name.  At least my middle name is not Lee.  I mean what kind of name is that?  For real, if you spell it differently, it is a girl’s name!  That spelling would be Leigh…in case you were wondering.  Yeah, I did not make a big deal out of that little fact that I have been hiding, but I still get a low blow on my name.

I have never done anything to warrant this kind of treatment.  For instance, I have never told anyone about the fact that you own a pink poodle suit, or that you have a pair of shiny metallic tights, or even that you fantasize about becoming a Disney Princess when you sleep talk.  Don’t worry though; these secrets are safe with me, ’cause I am your oh-so-trustworthy roommate, and I would carry these all to the grave with me.  The same can not be said about your slanderous tongue!

You do not know the fear I live with every night when I lay down to sleep.  Or the urgency with which I pray this prayer:

“Now I lay me down to sleep,

I pray my soul the lord to keep.

And if my eyebrows Jacob shaved,

I know his soul has been depraved.

And through my tears I tried to quell,

Dear Lord, please send him straight to a different floor so he can be someone else’s roommate.”

The terror of waking up with no eyebrows, or even worse only one eyebrow, has haunted me ever since that fateful day you wrote your new year’s resolutions.

That is why I found it necessary to write to you in this setting of a letter, where it is just you and me, mano-a-mano.  While I don’t know how this letter will find you, it is my deepest wish that somewhere in your small heart you will locate the grace to cease these slanderous ravings of an envious bumpkin such as yourself.

Your loving, yet somewhat concerned roommate,

Erin Kaufmann