By the time you read this, I'll be burning in hell for my sins.I'm sorry for leaving you this way, but with all the botox in your face, I might as well be fraternizing with mannequins instead. At least those don't have every STD known to man...
I know this might seem like an unexpected departureto you, seeing as we made all those plans to push the boundaries of human genetics past the point of good taste by procreating, but I just don't see things working out that way.
I'm sorry about this — it's just a shame I waited so long to do it, and wasted so much of my valuable time.I just need more out of this relationship. Financially, emotionally, sexually, intellectually. Everythingually.
I want to tell you that I think you are the Mr. Hyde to my Doctor Jekyll, but I don't think we're right for each other.First of all, we're not really compatible. You are heiress to the throne of Rondark,and I am not the type of person to be running around screaming that I have a "relationship".You like using magnifying glasses to kill aunts,painting your eyelids with pictures of eyeballs, andgas tungsten arc welding,and I'm just not sure I can ever share your joy in those things.How can two people so different ever make it for the long haul? I think we should date on Friday and then try to kill each other through strangulation (or with knives) just for fun.But I want you to know that I'll think of you whenever my house is in need of some serious cleaning up.
I'd really like us to become old without ever speaking to, or thinking of, each other ever again,if that's okay with you. I think we can do it. We had some good times, well, no... but no-one else has to know that.
Take care of yourself and never forget to eat your vegetables.
Farewell For Ever,
~ Concerned Citizen.
P.S. I just found out that I have AIDS. That probably means you have it too. D.S.