I’m writing this letter to tell you that I’m leaving you forever. I’ve been a good man to you for seven years, and I have nothing to show for it. These last two weeks have been hell. Your boss called to tell me that you quit your job today, and that was the last straw. Last week, you came home and didn’t even notice that I had a new haircut, had cooked your favorite meal, and even wore a brand new pair of silk boxers. You ate in two minutes and went straight to sleep after watching all of your soaps. You don’t tell me you love me anymore; you don’t want sex or anything that connects us as husband and wife. Either you’re cheating on me, or you don’t love me anymore; whatever the case, I’m gone.
P.S. Don’t try to find me. Your sister Carla and I are moving away to West Virginia together. Have a great life!
Nothing has made my day more than receiving your letter. It’s true that you and I have been married for seven years, although a good man is a far cry from what you’ve been. I watch my soaps so much to try to drown out your constant whining and griping. Too bad that doesn’t work. I did notice when you got a hair cut last week, but the first thing that came to mind was “You look just like a girl!” Since my mother raised me not to say anything if you can’t say something nice, I didn’t comment. And when you cooked my favorite meal, you must have gotten me confused with Carla, because I stopped eating pork seven years ago. About those new silk boxers: I turned away from you because the $49.99 price tag was still on them, and I prayed that it was a coincidence that she had just borrowed fifty dollars from me that morning. After all of this, I still loved you and felt that we could work it out. So when I hit the lotto for ten million dollars, I quit my job and bought us two tickets to Jamaica. But when I got home you were gone. Everything happens for a reason, I guess. I hope you have the fulfilling life you always wanted. My lawyer said that the letter you wrote ensures you won’t get a dime from me. So take care.
Signed, Your Ex-Wife, Rich as Hell and Free
P.S. I don’t know if I ever told you this, but Carla was born Carl. I hope that’s not a problem.
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