Dear John letter
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Saturday, November 28, 2015
I know this might seem like a kick in the nuts to you, seeing as we made all those plans to alphabetize our combined compact disc collections someday, but I just don't see things working out that way.
I'm sorry about this — at least so long as I remain intoxicated. I just need more sex, and for longer than the 3 minutes and 2 inches you're able to provide... or was it the other way around? Anyway...
I want to tell you that I think you're on my long list of middle-rated and easily forgotten ex's, but I don't think we're right for each other. First of all, we're not really compatible. You're a card-carrying member of the Hair Club for Men, and I'm hypersexual. You like laying on the floor with all the lights off, dating circus midgets, and gas 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 other people. But I want you to know that I'll think of you whenever Saturn orbits Pluto.
I'd really like us to become "people that pretend not to know each other", if that's okay with you. I think we can do it. We had some good times, or so we'll pretend.
Take care of yourself and never forget your psychiatrist thinks you're a jerk too.