An Open Letter of Love & Confusion: Taylor Swift, I Wish I Knew How to Quit You

Taylor, I wish I knew how to quit you. 

I know you're going to break that poor British boy's heart―or wait... is he Irish? Welsh? Does it matter?! 

It matters to SOMEONE, Taylor! 

The point is, you're going to break his pale Scandinavian heart, and there's nothing I can do to stop it. And then what? 

You're going to write a song. And I'm going to LOVE that song. 

And I am going to relate to that song on a primal level. 

No, really. I will get my f*cking period listening to that song because somehow, when you write of heartbreak―when you write of loss, you tap into the ethos of our mothers and sisters past. 

What IS that, Taylor??? 


You're from Pennsylvania. Home also to Benjamin Franklin and Boy Meets World. Just throwing that out there.

You're friends with Mariska Hargitay. 

She's in your elusive #squad along with Selena Gomez, Lena Dunham, Cara Delevingne, Gigi Hadid, and this toilet seat covered in Lisa Frank stickers.


You're in a fight with Kim Kardashian that honestly, I know way too much about. 

What I don't know, is how you'll break the news to Tom Hiddleston. 

Will he find out online? Via text? Oh God! Will he hear a song on the radio (never Spotify) and have to read through all the catchy subtext that you guys are never ever getting back together?!?!

I can't support another famous man's heart being broken, Taylor. They just aren't strong enough.

They don't win awards after a rough patch! They get drunk and fat and some of them even steal microphones from teenagers. You understand.

Just let this one down easy.



[Feature Image Courtesy] 

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