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Dear John letter
center
Dear wife nr. 18,
By the time you read this, I'll be spreading all your diaries around on file-sharing networks (scanners can be so fun sometimes, yah!).
I'm sorry for leaving you this way, but your needs are inherently less important than mine.
I know this might seem like an omitted chapter from Dante´s Divine Comedy
to you, seeing as we made all those plans to sink the British isles, but I just don't see things working out that way.
I'm sorry about this — at least so long as I remain high. I just need more out of this relationship. Financially, emotionally, sexually, intellectually. Everythingually.
I want to tell you that I think you are Jimbo, but I don't think we're right for each other.
First of all, we're not really compatible. You are a balloon animal fan,
and I am deaf, dumb and blind.
You like forcing naughty school children to read the Necronomicon, bobbing for old tires in the East River, and watching animal porn,
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 on other planets.
But I want you to know that I'll think of you whenever do sadistic things to your digital duplicate in The Sims 3.
I'd really like us to become people that pretend they never dated,
if that's okay with you. I think we can do it.
We had some good times, I think.
Take care of yourself and never forget that pushing Up Up Down Down Left Right Left Right B A Start on your keyboard may be fatal to your health.
Caió,
~ Your Siamese twin.
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