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Wednesday, October 15, 2025
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 my eyes have yet to fully recover from last week when your wig fell off. I know this might seem like a crappy thing to do to you, seeing as we made all those plans to push you into the sea tied to a large brick, but I just don't see things working out that way. I'm sorry about this — or at least that's what you're supposed to say in these situations. I just need more cowbell. I want to tell you that I think you are a Terminator sent from the future to kill me, but I don't think we're right for each other. First of all, we're not really compatible. You are an atheist, and I am a nun. You like flicking staples at livestock, big butts, and igniting your own fart, 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 our respective parents, if only so we can feel unfaithful again. But I want you to know that I'll think of you whenever someone asks me what the ultimate expression of the ongoing cultural and genetic decay of humanity is. I'd really like us to become ultranerds who always write in leet speech and use Internet abbreviations such as LOL, ITA, IIRC, YMMV and IMHO in common speech, if that's okay with you. I think we can do it. We had some good times, at least before we met. Take care of yourself and never forget where you leave the keys. Honestly, those things are are a PAIN to find again.
~ Your new ex. |