Don't Leave Me Here, I Hate It Here.
So I'm very unoriginal. I couldn't get a breakup letter for my mini story to flow right, so I dove into the world of generated breakup letters.
Here's one I will not be using:
Dearest Radzimierz,
This breakup letter should come as no surprise nor cause any heartache to someone as cold hearted as you. Time and again I've tried to get you to show me how much you care. Time and again I've been rudefully rebuffed.
I have emotions. I have needs. I have love to express. But Mr. Selfish you just don't care that you make me feel like my needs, emotions and loving intentions are shamefully wrong. Well news flash, Radzimierz, they aren't. So, after months I'm ending this charade of a relationship in hopes of finding someone who is emotionally mature enough to love me like I need to be loved; anally.
Don't come crawling back on your hands and knees all lubed up and asking for a second chances because behind us are your chances of me loving your behind.
You see, to me and people who aren't dead inside like you, cornholing is a beautiful way of making love. It lets the cornholee (you) know that they are special and very important to the cornholer (me). The ironic things is how you always talked of taking our relationship to the next level, but you're just a man of words, not actions. You gave me lip service and I needed my ass serviced. I mean, what's more intimate and meaningful than making sweet beautiful anal love? Butt nooky isn't something you dive head first in with just anyone. No, the person whose tootsie roll hole you hammer is someone extra special. You can keep your vows and veils and rings and ceremonies. I want something that actually means something. A trip down Hershey Highway is infinitely more meaningful than one down the aisle. It says that what we have is something special, something so important to both of us that it can only be expressed by me lovingly plugging your pooper.
But no, you say its dirty. It's wrong. It goes against god. Well boo-fucking-hoo. To us in the real world with hearts that function, that's called love. You don't have to sugar coat it, I know how you really feel about me. Its obvious that your just hiding behind those absurd reasons because I am not the one for you. I truly hope you find the girl that you can bend in front of, jelly up, and unconditionally love. For me, that person was you. Sadly, my love, feelings and yearnings to poke you in the brown eye go unrequited.
Love,
Drahomíra
P.S. I'm not so bitter that I wouldn't let you eat my pussy one last time.
I know it isn't that obvious why I don't want to use it...
ZOMG THE ZOMBIEZ
Do the Dew.
Here's one I will not be using:
Dearest Radzimierz,
This breakup letter should come as no surprise nor cause any heartache to someone as cold hearted as you. Time and again I've tried to get you to show me how much you care. Time and again I've been rudefully rebuffed.
I have emotions. I have needs. I have love to express. But Mr. Selfish you just don't care that you make me feel like my needs, emotions and loving intentions are shamefully wrong. Well news flash, Radzimierz, they aren't. So, after months I'm ending this charade of a relationship in hopes of finding someone who is emotionally mature enough to love me like I need to be loved; anally.
Don't come crawling back on your hands and knees all lubed up and asking for a second chances because behind us are your chances of me loving your behind.
You see, to me and people who aren't dead inside like you, cornholing is a beautiful way of making love. It lets the cornholee (you) know that they are special and very important to the cornholer (me). The ironic things is how you always talked of taking our relationship to the next level, but you're just a man of words, not actions. You gave me lip service and I needed my ass serviced. I mean, what's more intimate and meaningful than making sweet beautiful anal love? Butt nooky isn't something you dive head first in with just anyone. No, the person whose tootsie roll hole you hammer is someone extra special. You can keep your vows and veils and rings and ceremonies. I want something that actually means something. A trip down Hershey Highway is infinitely more meaningful than one down the aisle. It says that what we have is something special, something so important to both of us that it can only be expressed by me lovingly plugging your pooper.
But no, you say its dirty. It's wrong. It goes against god. Well boo-fucking-hoo. To us in the real world with hearts that function, that's called love. You don't have to sugar coat it, I know how you really feel about me. Its obvious that your just hiding behind those absurd reasons because I am not the one for you. I truly hope you find the girl that you can bend in front of, jelly up, and unconditionally love. For me, that person was you. Sadly, my love, feelings and yearnings to poke you in the brown eye go unrequited.
Love,
Drahomíra
P.S. I'm not so bitter that I wouldn't let you eat my pussy one last time.
I know it isn't that obvious why I don't want to use it...
ZOMG THE ZOMBIEZ
Do the Dew.