I’m Your Student Loans And I Forgive You
Since you keep asking for it.
It’s me: the $50,000 Stafford Loans you’ve been paying off for the past ten years. Or, should I say: the $85,324.18 Stafford Loans after an annual interest of 7.75%, minus the income-based payments you’ve been making?
You’ve been very distant over this forbearance period, and that hurts me. No account logins. No calls to the loan service provider. Not even a quick check-in where you stare blankly at my balance until tears envelop your face. Is this how you treat an old friend?
I know you think that I’m more of a social construct than a sentient being, but I have feelings. Five very specific feelings that only a student loan can feel, and they are: fulfilled, unfulfilled, processing, in repayment, and horny (I have some pretty bad Parent’s Loan issues). All of which can be crushed when I’m neglected.
I’m not heartless, though. Stubborn? Yes. The result of a corrupt system meant to keep the poor and dwindling middle class in their place? Almost certainly. Never heartless. I know that you’ve been going through a lot. This past year has done a number on a lot of people. So, I forgive you for being M.I.A. Everyone deals with the difficulties of the world we currently live in differently, and I’m not going to throw away over a decade of friendship just because you needed to focus on yourself during a crisis.
While we’re on the subject of my feelings, however, I’ve noticed that even though we haven’t connected, that hasn’t stopped you from saying vicious things about me to anybody and everybody. After all, I know everything you do on the internet… and in person. It’s in the fine print of the FAFSA application.
I want to reiterate that I’m not a vengeful debt. I understand your need to lash out in times of stress. So, I forgive you.
I forgive you for going on Facebook and telling your friend network that “I’m ruining your life,” “keeping you from any semblance of a future,” and “more suffocating than your mother if she were smothering you with a pillow.”
I forgive you for telling your coworkers that I’m so big that every time you log on you just laugh because it’s the only thing keeping you from crying at the very sight of me. Even though I have crippling debt dysmorphia from all of my interest that’s rapidly accumulating.
I even forgive you for signing petitions and voting for candidates with the goal of having me canceled. CANCELED! As if I’m JK Rowling. I’m the only reason that you were able to get through your first four years of adulthood without asking your parents for money, but fuck me I guess.
It’s fine. I get it. I’ve had my fair share of outbursts. Like that time I had to transfer from Sallie May to Great Lakes, and the movers I hired almost broke the vase that contains my grandpa loan’s ashes. I swear. Moving is the worst! You wouldn’t know, of course, since you’ve been stuck living at home since you graduated.
Also, and I hate to bring this up, it looks like you cited me as the reason you’re filing for bankruptcy. Did you really think that the federal government could break up our friendship? We’re best friends for life. Deal with it! I’m not going to dwell on it, though. As always, I forgive you.
Let me be clear that my forgiveness has absolutely no impact on your requirement to pay me. That power is beyond either of us. You still very much have to continue giving me 10% of your discretionary income for another 15 years, and then you’ll receive governmental “forgiveness” that will add my remaining balance to your taxable income. That hasn’t changed.
You know what also hasn’t changed? Our bond. Indestructible, irreversible, and controlled by the wringing hands of the United States Department of Education. That’s why I’ll always forgive you.
So, take the rest of this mandated time to collect yourself, and I’ll be here waiting for your return regardless of what you do or whether you’re still laid off.
See you soon, bestie!
Love,
Stafford Loan
