I’ve been willing to accept that you rarely take me out for dinner, you hit on every attractive person you see, and that you assume the form of a mobile/tablet instead of the typically more desirable “human-type” shape (I even denounced Centaurs for you), but these last few months have been …even more lacklustre than even your history of “meh” could ever foreshadow. Is it because Olympics?
So, this Valentine’s Day, instead of our usual getting-drunk-and-swearing-we’re-still-in-love before the inevitable sobbing (yours), lingerie-prancing (mine) and awkward CUDDLING THROUGH INSOMNIA (mutual, but to be fair, the book of the same title seemed so promising), I’ve decided we should break up.
THIS IS NOT BECAUSE I’M A BITCH. It just happens to coincide. I’m doing this because we both deserve better, especially me. Anyway, you’ll be glad to know I’m keeping all the dicktures you sent. ”Post-workout over the jogging pants” was a true work of genius. (Please, don’t give up! You’ll find your rainbow!)
Because our time together was so very, very special to me, I have decided the best way to honour it is through the medium of song. I think the catchy, poppy melody will help you get past any ‘we’re actually not a thing, actually’ feelings you might have, while at the same time delivering a message of ‘please no longer use my number, even in case of emergency.” Critics call that “clever juxtaposition,” but what do they know anyway, right? (Naturally I am just saying this to reassure you. The critics know everything, particularly the ones who give me amazing reviews*)
In conclusion, I hope you enjoy the music and accompanying video you helped to inspire, which will go on forever into foreverness, despite your no longer being relevant. Heartwarming, isn’t it?