Dear John letter
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Friday, January 30, 2015
Dear Ex-Friend with Benefits,
By the time you read this, I'll be serving number 977. If you get here quickly enough, you might be able to get in to see me before I wash the stink of manfilth from my body and go home for the night. I'm sorry for leaving you this way, but I finally got around to reading your "poems" this morning, and I figure that this is better than a bullet in the head.
I know this might seem like , well... inevitable, really, to you, seeing as we made all those plans to adopt a child from a third world country for media publicity, but I just don't see things working out that way.
I'm sorry about this — mostly. 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 ...more than passable, 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 a champion pie eating finalist. You like urine sample collecting, talking like Captain Kirk, and filling guinea pigs with helium, 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, but in another life — preferably a previous one. But I want you to know that I'll think of you whenever it is that I need to confess my most heinous sins on my deathbed.
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 during those many hours of drug and alcohol induced unconsciousness.
Take care of yourself and never forget the restraining order the judge issued against you.
~ Your sister.