I'm sorry I snooped in your room. I'm sorry I read your diary. I'm seriously the biggest jerk ever and obviously not very respectful of boundaries. I can't believe I even did that.
But for the record, it was years ago and I was in a period of my life where I felt very alone and isolated and you were this big question mark to me and I wanted to know who you were, really. Not what people said about you or what you looked like from the outside. But the inner workings of your mind.
I guess I was just really lonely and wanted to connect. Pathetic, I know.
The thing is, I didn't do it to judge you. The truth is that there was nothing that you could have written about yourself that would have made me think you were weird. I mean, I was quite aware that weirdo-status had already been reserved by yours truly by stooping to snooping level to make a friend.
I'm really embarrassed. I promise I would never do that these days. Really, I'm all growed up.
I hope you got over your eating disorder and your fear that boys would never like you. You did not have fat thighs. And I hope you know that that one guy really is a jerk and you're lucky you never dated him. And no, you're not going to die lonely and you most definitely will live an interesting life.