Dear John letter
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Friday, July 25, 2014
Dear Prisoner 66734,
By the time you read this, I'll be in jail. Three hots and a cot, and the judge says I can refuse to see anyone I want, including you. Finally. I'm sorry for leaving you this way, but you win some, you lose some - and in your case, you lose everything.
I know this might seem like a sudden change to you, seeing as we made all those plans to live together in happily unwedded bliss, or a reasonable facsimile, but I just don't see things working out that way.
I'm sorry about this — I think. I just need more men, on some kind of rotating schedule.
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 satanist, and I'm an amateur weightlifter. You like having sex in dumpsters, lassoing people on subways cars, and belly-button sniffing, 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 the police ask me where I bought the stuff.
I'd really like us to become road sweepers or something, 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 you are now statistically 50% less likely to ever find a lasting and fulfilling relationship during your lifetime.
~ Your new ex.