April 8, 2013

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To Whom It May Concern:

I think you’re a friggin liar and that you should drown in your own misery. Oh and you should be thrown into a vat of hot grease because you make me sick.

P.S. these stupid letter’s won’t help us at all.


                                You’re EX girlfriend Casey

The carefully squared college ruled paper expertly slid into the tiny crevice in his driver’s side window. He had the extremely bad habit of never fully rolling his window up, I used to always harp at him about crap like that. Like what if an ax murderer wanted to get in his car huh? What would he wake up to find when he got into cancer filled box anyway? Huh? Not cookies that’s for sure!

I didn’t stick around to make sure if the paper actually landed on the seat. I didn’t care if he got it one way or other, as I’d told him before, both verbally and written---the letters were stupid and I had no idea why I was still doing it. To prove how much I cared I’d composed my short declaration on paper I’d crushed into a ball, rubbed against the concrete and ‘accidently’ spilled ketchup and ranch on.

Oops, my bads homie.

I made it out of the campus parking lot in my little buggy I’d nicknamed Susan. She was and still is completely badass, much better than Jessie’s stupid new and ultra shiny black charger. At least I’d paid for my car out of my refund check; his doctor dad had bought him a car for not ‘failing’ any of his junior classes.

Give. Me. A. Break.

And then that one time the bastard had the nerve to suggest that I should give up on cash cars altogether and get a car note. That day I was really pissed at him, so pissed that I broiled. I told him to get his rich ass out of my car if it wasn’t to his liking and to burn in hell while he was at it.

Yeah…he pissed me off that much.

And it wasn’t hard to do lately because he had become the exact opposite of the person that I’d fallen in love with.

He wasn’t my Jessie anymore, he was just some guy I’d dated.


Your? (C'mon English Major!)                  From Gross, Jessie to you

Dear Casey

Why so serious? And why so archaic? Who writes letters anymore? You know my hand cramps up when I’m writing things, so I let you do them! Like all my English papers, remember babe?

Aight, aight. I’ll stop being an ass for a sec. Can I please talk to you? In person? Face to face or at least on the phone?

I hate to admit Cee but I miss your voice. I miss everything about you, when are you going to forgive me?

Is it still about that girl? Cuz I told you that was my dad stirring up bullshit, you know how much he wants me to go to medschool. It was a trick ok? A dumbass trick to scare you off, but I don’t want you to go babe. I need you.

Do I have to get on my knees? Play a Temptation song? Rip off my shirt and make my pec’s bounce for you to come back?

I’ll do it babe, just for you!


                Your FUTURE HUSBAND Jessie

My ex was definitely an owl in a prior life.

I rolled over to my right side and laid the glaring phone face down on my heart littered sheets and sighed. I’d given him the note over six hours ago and he was just now replying?

He didn’t get it at all.

The girl was the LEAST of our problems.

Wait...did he correct me?!

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