Dear John letter
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Monday, March 2, 2015
Dear Passing Fancy,
By the time you read this, I'll be blowing rich, retired businessmen on a slow boat to China. I'm sorry for leaving you this way, but I've misplaced my copy of Paul Simon's "50 Ways to Leave Your Lover" and I had to improvise.
I know this might seem like punch in the jaw 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 — but if the writing's a but shakey that's only because of my helpless, loud and hysterical 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 strangely charismatic, considering your freakishly odd appearance, 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 into streaking. You like attacking clergymen, bobbing for old tires in the East River, 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 other people. But I want you to know that I'll think of you whenever I need to tell my side of the story on Jerry Springer.
I'd really like us to become "acquaintances", if that's okay with you. I think we can do it. We had some good times, five past seven on Sunday November 3rd 2003 springs to mind, for instance.
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.