Hello old friend, we need to talk. And yes, usually nothing good happens comes after that statement.

I’m moving on in my life, and I’m leaving you and never looking back.

We used to be so good together. I would spend an embarrassing amount of money on some slutty version of a costume and party until we both didn’t know what was going on.

I’ll never forget my freshman year when I wore a duck tape dress that looked like a Natural Light can. We had some good laughs taping me into that dress…but not so many laughs cutting me out of it later that night as I emptied my stomach in the dorm bathroom.

And don’t forget the time I dressed up as a maid because it was so original!!!

But I guess that brings me to my point. We’ve been drifting apart. I’m just not into it as much as I used to be. Hours of costume-making turned into last minute scrambling and throwing on a flannel and calling myself a “homeless person.”

And instead of having a grand ole night, I couldn’t help but glimpse myself in the bar bathroom and say, “What if I become a homeless person after school? What if this won’t be a costume but my actual life?” But that’s something I have to figure out myself.

Calm down and hear me out. Wearing a patch of fabric with handcuffs and thigh-highs looks completely normal on a college campus. But I can’t wear that in the real world?! I wear that out on the street in the real world, I’m ending up in a real cop car with real handcuffs. (In this hypothetic situation I would be arrested for prostitution.)

I just can’t keep up with you. You deserve the young new freshmen that don’t get sleepy at 10:45. You deserve someone who will stay out until 4am, then wake up the next morning ready to rumble. This past Sunday, I couldn’t move from my bed until 2pm. I sat with my head underneath the blanket, gingerly nursing a blue Gatorade. We’re clearly in two different places in our lives.

Look, I’m trying to be mature here. I hate that I’m hurting you, but in the words of Fergie’s “Big Girls Don’t Cry,” “this has nothing to do with you, it’s personal myself and I, we’ve got some figuring out to do.”

All in all, college Halloween, I’ll miss you, but please don’t ever contact me ever again. Don’t even look at me. I don’t think my body, especially my liver, can handle it.

You were a good part of my life. Lots of nylon, cheap vodka, and hats. You’re going to be fine without me.