It happened about eight months ago. She IM's me out of nowhere, saying how much she misses me, reminiscing about the three months we spent as a couple. Then this exchange of dialogue came up:
(19:33:40) Harried: well i should begin by saying Current Girlfriend and i are no longer together
(19:33:50) Harried: shes moving to alabama in july
(19:34:19) OMG_exgrrlfriendLOLz: oh wow
(19:34:28) OMG_exgrrlfriendLOLz: that stinks
(19:34:38) OMG_exgrrlfriendLOLz: im sorry to hear that
(19:34:42) Harried: ahh thats ok
(19:35:29) OMG_exgrrlfriendLOLz: how long were u two goin out for?
(19:35:55) Harried: well, thats complicated cuz weve been on and off for a year
(19:36:05) OMG_exgrrlfriendLOLz: oh
(19:36:17) Harried: about eight months then
(19:36:45) OMG_exgrrlfriendLOLz: oh
(19:36:57) Harried: the longest relationship ive ever had
(19:37:26) OMG_exgrrlfriendLOLz: oo thats a long time
(19:37:37) Harried: especially for me lol
(19:37:56) OMG_exgrrlfriendLOLz: do u still have that book of my emails i gave to you?
(19:38:01) Harried: actually i do
(19:38:07) OMG_exgrrlfriendLOLz: really??
(19:38:09) Harried: yah
(19:38:19) OMG_exgrrlfriendLOLz: wow im surprised
(19:43:03) OMG_exgrrlfriendLOLz logged out.
(19:43:03) OMG_exgrrlfriendLOLz logged in.
(19:44:07) Harried: what happened?
(19:44:31) OMG_exgrrlfriendLOLz: u know wut...I actually think that the guy I'm going out with right now is going to break up with me...and I know he will eventually...but..I mean...remember my friend KC i told you about...wut if she's right? wut if u and i are meant to be together? wut if this is a sign?
Oh, I get it. She was trying to soften me up and squeeze relationship info out of me so she could ask me out again. This was where the exchange of dialogue ended, and it prompted me to get to work on a letter that would offend her in such a way that she'd never want to speak to me again. Since the breakup (which was 2 1/2 years ago, by the way), I've tried my hardest to be civil with her whenever we came across each other again. But she kept asking me if I had a girlfriend. So I was left with no choice but to do this:Dear Needy Ex-Girlfriend,
Unlike the letter you wrote me, this one won’t be backwards. I don’t have the time, patience or hand-eye coordination to write such a letter for the sake of “security.” Yes, that means I still have that scrapbook full of your emails to me. In fact, I still have everything that came with the scrapbook, give or take few blank pages. At the end of the book, you wrote a short note about how you’d like me to “fill the rest of the pages in here in whatever way you wish to.” So I did. And I am writing this letter to tell you what I put in it.
Going through the book, I came across “The Backwards Letter,” to which I cleverly alluded in the previous paragraph. In the letter, I counted 94 clichés. Statistically speaking, that’s 27 clichés per page, 1.12 clichés per line, and roughly 0.86 per sentence. And you told me that everything you said came straight from your heart? Sweetie, you’re not fooling anyone.
There’s also a lot of mention about “our song.” REM’s “At My Most Beautiful,” a song that wasn’t as well-recognized as their other hits, became our humble way of expressing our connection. Looking back at our relationship, I’m reminded of another REM song entitled “The One I Love.” This song is a bitingly sarcastic (not to mention catchy) fuck-you song in the guise of a simple anthem of romantic adventure. But the quote in the song that comes to mind is “A simple prop/ To occupy my time.” This is what I was to you. That line is more appropriate to what I felt. I dunno. Whatever.
But back to the subject at hand. You told me I could fill in the rest of the book in whichever way I please. But before I let you know what I filled it with, I want to analyze the current status of our acquaintanceship. As a couple, we only lasted for a few months, and it was okay. Now take the relationship I had with Current Girlfriend. After a year of chasing her persistently, she and I spent the next year of our lives as a couple. During that time, we spent strenuous amounts of energy making sure nothing got in our way. We made every effort to make sure our love for each other would be compromised for nothing. We had the closest anyone could ever come to the perfect relationship. We were able to share our lives without smothering each other. Day by day we confirmed our love for each other by the simplicities of a smile or a kiss. We had a level of candor and affection that the average couple could only dream about. Then we fucked like groundhogs.
Sorry about the digression. Anyway, I noticed a strange trend that has developed in recent months. Remember last summer when we started talking to each other again? I was well into my relationship with Current Girlfriend and you had… you never told me his name. But a couple days after I told you Current Girlfriend and I broke up, you broke up with your boyfriend. Then, months went by and we didn’t talk to each other. By the time we came in contact with each other again, I had returned to Current Girlfriend’s sweet embrace, and you were with somebody once again. Then, by the magic specter of coincidence, you claim to be on the verge of another breakup just minutes after—get this, you’ll love it—you learn of my breakup with Current Girlfriend! I mean, come on! And I mean come on, not “cám o’n,” Vietnamese for thank you. I’m not thanking you for anything.
Seriously, I just love how the ends of your relationships magically coincided with mine. After all that, you used this common rift in our romantic time frames as a sign. You used a loosely synchronized set of events as reason to believe that “you and I were meant to be together.” And I quote:
[aforementioned IM conversation, damning evidence to her refusal to let me go]
Do you think I’m some kind of retard? This pattern of events implies that after I go through a breakup, you’ll follow suit within minutes. I find it just a little too convenient that our relationships share near-exact time frames. Frankly, I think you’re making it all up. Again, do you take me for some kind of retard mongoloid douche bag moron who doesn’t know his ass from ice cream? Though I enjoy ice cream, such is irrelevant to the point I’m making. What I’m trying to say is you’re definitely not fooling me. I was born with a hole in my heart, not in my brain. And NO, your love did NOT fix the hole in my heart. Don’t even say it. That was the surgeon, not you. I’m talking about my heart in the biological sense, okay? As for “At My Most Beautiful,” it’s no longer our song. It’s MY song now. No one else can have it. Not even you.
However, I won’t be cruel and close the letter without telling you how I used the empty scrapbook pages. It’s filled with memories of me and Current Girlfriend, the best girlfriend I’ve ever had. I’ve included things such as the list of places in which we planned to have sex. It includes the topless photo of her during her annual vacation to Miami. It’s got poems, snippets and mementos of an unforgettable relationship. It’s filled with countless memories of Current Girlfriend and I, who plan to continue our lives together. Here, let me fill you in on the plan. Tell me if you think it’s a beautiful plan.
First off, Current Girlfriend and I plan to get married upon her return from Where Current Girlfriend Goes To School University. She and I will spend our graduate school years together, residing in a humble loft in Philadelphia’s historic Olde City neighborhood. We will press on with our adult lives, sharing triumphs and tragedies, pride and peril, wins and losses. Once we receive our doctorates in our respective fields, Current Girlfriend will become a well-respected biopsychologist (or psychobiologist, depending on what school you’ve attended), and I will open my own psychotherapy practice, specializing in children and adolescents. Once we’ve squirreled away enough cash, she and I will relocate. We will shed the anonymity of big city life and settle in a quiet suburb. We haven’t decided which suburb to reside in… Croydon, Feasterville, perhaps even Gladwyne [all suburbs in the Philly area]. We will settle down, have somewhere between four and seven kids. And maybe a dog.
Sincerely,
Harried
Then the opportunity to give it to her came when I and a couple of friends were on our way to New York to help plan a wedding. I knocked on her door, we talked, and eventually I handed the letter off to her. Then we rode off. I felt so liberated. She was never to speak to me again. What I did was so reprehensible she would never want to stand my presence again.
I drove 100 miles to deliver a fuck-you letter to a needy ex-girlfriend. I await your reprimands. But before I do, I must ask: What's the meanest thing you've ever done to ward off an ex?
