Dear John letter

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Wednesday, August 5, 2015

Dear "Mr. It was only a dream" (as my psychiatrist insists I refer to you these days) ,

By the time you read this, I'll be in Iraq, serving in whatever ways I’m needed most. I fear that the military is the only way to make our relationship last, and seeing as you're a pacifist, I decided to join. I'm sorry for leaving you this way, but one of us has to go, and the strychnine I've been adding to your Corn Flakes doesn't seem to be working.

I know this might seem like karmic kannibalism to you, seeing as we made all those plans to trade all our remaining STDs even-steven, but I just don't see things working out that way.

I'm sorry about this — really. No, really. Those are teardrops on the letter, and not spittle from laughter. I just need more time alone. No... More time away from you. All of it, really. Yeah. That's what I mean to say.

I want to tell you that I think you're ...exceedingly punctual, but I don't think we're right for each other. First of all, we're not really compatible. You're a Democrat, and I'm on my own plane of psychological existence. You like groping fresh produce, juggling chainsaws, and arguing with the voices only you can hear over dinner plans, 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 again someday, but only if you go in for surgery and get you brain replaced. And your nose. Or to keep it simple, ask them to change everything but your name. Or have them change that as well, unless doing so would complicate billing. But I want you to know that I'll think of you whenever I want to remember what suffering feels like.

I'd really like us to become "people that pretend they never dated", if that's okay with you. I think we can do it. We had some good times, at least while we were in separate cells at the police station.

Take care of yourself and never forget I have the sniper rifle, and I know how to use it.

~ Your new ex.

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