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Dear John letter
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Dear other half,
By the time you read this, I'll be at Community Hospital, being prepared for a sex-change operation. Our time together made me realize some important things about myself.
I'm sorry for leaving you this way, but this world simply isn't big enough for the both of us.
I know this might seem like a letter of indulgence
to you, seeing as we made all those plans to trade all our remaining STDs even-steven, but I just don't see things working out that way.
I'm sorry about this — at least so long as I remain intoxicated. I just need to plot your murder for another week and I'm set to go.
I want to tell you that I think you are a virgin, but I don't think we're right for each other.
First of all, we're not really compatible. You are committed, literally,
and I am all that and more.
You like navel lint collecting, putting things on springs, and accusing comatose patients of lazyness,
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 own mirror images.
But I want you to know that I'll think of you whenever the police ask me where I bought the stuff.
I'd really like us to become a Heathcliff and Catherine-like ghost couple and creep out softhearted onlookers in our restless afterlife,
if that's okay with you. I think we can do it.
We had some good times, while we were three thousand miles away from each other.
Take care of yourself and never forget that time when I showed everyone a picture of your penis. That was funny.
Live long and prosper,
~ Dalai Llama.
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