Dear Slightly Older Westchester,
I’m not exactly sure we actually dated, but we did hook up on and off for about seven years and I’m pretty sure you’ve bought me dinner (if vodka is dinner), so this technically counts. I’m sorry we never quite got the timing right. I’m also sorry I cried that one time we had sex on the couch in your basement. I still have no idea what that was about. That must have been awkward for you.
I’m just confused as to why you didn’t end it with me, seeing as I was a straight psycho. I actually judge you a little bit for this. I’m sorry for all the times I cried at the bar and all the times after the crying that I yelled at you in the street. To this day I can’t recall you ever doing a single terrible thing, so that is all on me. I hear you’re doing super well, got married, and that you’re now loaded soooo...I’m just going to go ahead and say you’re welcome.
I’m sorry I dipped my pen in the company ink... for four years. I have some choice jokes at the ready, but this could escalate quickly, so you just do you and I’m gonna do me and that’s that.
I’m just really sorry. Honestly.