Happy Valentine’s Day.
The reason I write is because I would like to break up with you. The past year has been one of the worst of my life and you are almost entirely responsible. I will at least shoulder some of the blame and admit that hooking up with you was probably the most horrendous mistake of my life and I will never forgive myself for it. Nevertheless, what followed can only be blamed on you and your miserable and phony excuse of a personality. I did not count the number of nights I returned home after dinner and threw up all over the futon but it topped twenty (it was not the food, it was you). Alongside this, I find your dress sense objectionable. Purple does not look good on you and the same goes for turquoise. I suggest you only wear funeral black which will at least reflect your personality. You would also be advised to stop slurping your drink and eating with your mouth open. It makes you look like a dead horse. On the subject of horses, your walk is more like a gallop and at least two of my friends have pointed it out to me in the past. I stood up for you but our next meeting proved me wrong and, therefore, seeing as you’re currently out of work and pretty much unemployable, it might be worth applying for the Grand National. Other than that, you’re not the worst person I have ever met but I’d rather take my chances and spend an evening in the company of Ted Bundy; at least he’d have something to talk about. I don’t mean to be blunt, I simply value honesty.
I wish you all the best in the future and, once again, happy Valentine’s Day. Give my regards to your parents.
Ps. I have attached a packet of Guylian Belgian Chocolate Sea Shells. Don’t eat them all at once; we all know how it goes straight to your waist.