What’s up with you lately? I feel like you’re secretly mad at me, but afraid to talk about it openly. I know we have our feuds, but I think an open line of communication would be a more effective means of expressing your angst than sending random, costly mishaps in my direction. Can’t we just talk about this?
I mean, three weeks ago you decided to be coy and make that semi run me into a guard rail and then have the driver conveniently decide to drive off so I was stuck with the bill. You think you’re clever, don’t you? I knew it was you the whole time. I figured it was just a bad time of the month for you, so I dismissed it. But seriously? You didn’t have to go and do that to me. A ‘we need to talk’ would have sufficed to get my attention.
And then yesterday, you decide it would be awesome to watch me rear end some little old lady who decided to stop short at a yield sign. I didn’t hit her that hard, but with your special blend of magic you made sure there was 480 dollars worth of damage. Just 20 dollars shy of my insurance co-pay. I guess I should thank you for making it so I don’t have to report the accident to my insurance, but that thank you is backhanded… believe me.
Is it because I ignored those missionaries this week? Is that it? I’m sorry, but I just can’t accept your friends, especially when they come at inconvenient times. Like when I’m napping, or masturbing, or drunk, or any combination thereof. I was kidding about the masturbating thing, and you have no choice but to believe me because everyone knows God can’t see through roofs.
Here’s what I’m trying to say…. I think we should take a break. You’re a little controlling, jealous and…. dare I say it… crazy. I need my space. It’s not you, really… it’s me. I just need time to process everything we’ve gone through together and evaluate where we stand, you know? We should see other people, that way we know if we’re really meant to be.
There is someone else… not that you need to know, but he is a peaceful fellow who appreciates me for who I am. He has a bit of a beer gut and pudgy cheeks, but I really like him. I hope you can be happy for me.
Take care of yourself,