An Open Letter to Kelly Clarkson

Dear Kelly,

You're totally my homegirl. We go way back. Seriously, you served me popcorn when I was 12 at the Hollywood Movie Theater in Burleson. I power voted for you, bought your albums, and even supported you when everyone else abandoned you during the My December period. I even defend your artistic merits when my friends text me that you looked a little hefty on your Idol appearence last night.

You're plagiarizing my heart.

Seriously. Three albums in a row your songs have been reflective of my personal emotional toil. Breakaway came out during my own coming out, where I was shedding my past and "so moving on, yeah, yeah" and fighting for what I deserved. My December came out during my break up with NL, where I screamed "Never Again!" with the intensity of a genocide protestor after he "wrote me in a letter" terminating what we had. I cried out alone that I didn't want to be tough or proud, and I didn't need to be fixed or found; I wasn't lost, I just needed to be loved.

My only probelem at this point in my life was the question of who did I need to be loved by; until I met MR. He is perfect for me. He's tall, dark, and handsome. Single, out, completely brilliant, and he gets pretty much any allusion I can muster, no matter how vague, from the Golden Girls to "the call is coming from inside the house!"

So you must be wondering, why has he not liked it and put a ring on it? Why am I left alone with my moves stolen from Beyowulf?

Because I can never read him. Not in a Twilight kind of way, but he's hot and cold like a Katy Perry song. On one hand we'll have a salacious textual relationship, but our physical one remains strictly platonic like a craig's list section. I don't know which side is the real him; the three AM drunk dials, or the excuses why we can't hang out tonight.

But here's where I have to thank you Kelly, for plagiarizing my heart. On All I Ever Wanted you belt out my inner turmoils and what I really want. I want to ask him to put the bottle down, because he's got too much talent, but don't let me stop him from doing what he wants to do; because if I can't have him, then I don't want anyone...even if it is a long shot, I want to go back to the way things used to be, back to the butterflies and staring deep in his eyes.

And now, we're both back to blonde, and we've got our balls back. This is the spring after our Decembers. Now I realize how I feel, and that my life would suck without you. So like another famous Kelly said...Imma get what I want.

xoxox

L. Woods