Dear John letter

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NO ATTACHED ADDRESS Saturday, Octodest 29, 2022 Dear <insert name here>, By the time you read this, I'll be kidnapped by an Indian woman. I'm sorry for leaving you this way, but I'm in a tight space. A really tight space. Oooh yess. I know this might seem like a winner winner chicken dinner to you, seeing as we made all those plans to spend at least more than two hours together, 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 you, again, but I cannot decide. I want to tell you that I think you're ...more than passable, but I don't think we're right for each other. First of all, we're not really compatible. You're an agnostic, and I'm a nun. You like attacking clergymen, peeling watermelons, and writing love letters to Bob Saget, 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 everyone else in the world, just to find out the answer — or at least I should, you have no hope on that score. But I want you to know that I'll think of you whenever I want to remember what suffering feels like. I'd really like us to become road sweepers or something, if that's okay with you. I think we can do it. We've had some good times, five past seven on Sunday November 3rd 2003 springs to mind, for instance. Take care of yourself and never forget you are now statistically 50% less likely to ever find a lasting and fulfilling relationship during your lifetime. ~ The Samaritans. P.S.: Make sure the monkeys are bathed, or I'll have to kill you.

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