There are times when I wonder if I'm taking the test or if I'm an option C on someone else's test. If you know me well, you know that I have a trifecta of old boyfriends. It goes in cycles, no matter how much I try. I think I heard from all of them in at least the last 24 if not 48 hours. How do you politely tell someone to LOSE MY NUMBER. kthanks. I'm over here picking up thousands of shattered pieces of myself, my fingers are bleeding and unrecognizeable, and I just want a party burrito with no chili sauce, a frozen margarita with extra salt, my footie pjs, and a Rachel McAdams movie, preferably the Notebook, but at this point I'm not picky. Eh. Maybe I should be flattered. I guess I have (in a droninig monotone voice) wonderful qualities as a wonderful person which draws COMPLETE PSYCHOTIC WUSSY BOYS TO ME. I apologize for ending that last sentence in a prepositional phrase, but alas, it could not be helped. So here is an open letter to the dearly departed of the Ghosts of Boyfriends Pasts (not to be confused with the Jennifer Garner/Matthew McConaughey movie. My movie is not a romantic comedy. Think: The Exorcist meets Freddy, Jason and Michael Myers)
Dear Sirs:
For reasons, for the most part, unbeknownst to me, we have come to this juncture in our strange
relationships that has forced me to request that you be kind, respectful and loving to your current girlfriend(s). Thanks for using me as your teething ring. Get lost. Literally. I don't care that you hate your job, that you just spent 150 dollars on unneccessary things at 'wally world' or that your friend recently saw me looking hot, and that collectively you all wish "Things were different and that we could be friends"
Yours Truly,
Vomit in the back of my throat.
Time to get out the D-Con and seriously mean it.
"I got to thinking about relationships and partial lobotomies. Two seemingly different ideas that might just be perfect together... like chocolate and peanut butter." C. Bradshaw
No comments:
Post a Comment