Down In Me

Dear Ex-Boyfriend,

It should gladden you to know that I thought of you today. Cleaning the counter top with new Sainsbury’s lime-scented all-purpose wipes that smell suspiciously of your cologne, I was reminded of the way you used to spray Thurston Bear with it so that I would continue feeling close to you when you went to get lost in the woods. I mean camping.

Speaking of my bear, he’s gone mysteriously AWOL since the last time you were here. You didn’t, by chance, load him up in the box with the CDs, did you? That is a completely non-accusatory and innocuous question.

The actual and imperative reason for this missive, however, is that we are dangerously low on kitty litter. If you do not honour the terms of our joint custody agreement I will be forced to resume calling the cat, Siouxsie. He has no self-conscious awareness of gender and I maintain that his green eyes light up the room every time he hears Painted Bird.

Domestically yours,

Your Ex-Girlfriend

Dear Ex-Boyfriend,

I am writing to respectfully request that you refrain from forwarding junk email to me. I’m touched by your concern, but I assure you that I’m well-versed in the health benefits of water versus Coke. Frankly, this particular email has been making the rounds since 1997 and if you’re getting your health information from forwarded emails of this sort, well, it seems there’s something rather more fundamental amiss.

Also, would you please stop googling Ani+[insert questionable keyword here]? It’s starting to freak me out slightly.

Yours,

Your (digitally vigilant) Ex-Girlfriend

Dear Ex-Lover,

You may notice that I have begun referring to you with the term ‘ex-lover’. As I approach my thirtieth year, I feel this semantic change accurately reflects my season in life as a maturing young woman, as opposed to the scatterbrained Lolita you once knew and/or possibly deflowered. It is true that ’ex-husband’ would seem more appropriate with regards to length and scope, but let’s face it, not with regards to honour.

Acrimoniously yours,

Your Ex-Girlfriend (all growed up now)

Dear Ex-Boyfriend,

I’d like to gently suggest an addition to your no doubt numerous list of New Year’s resolutions: get over me. Only my ego truly appreciates the petting now. My body, along with the rest of me, has moved on to greener pastures, as it were, and following the smashing success of our New Year’s Eve celebrations, we are looking forward to a most fulfilling year.

Your Ex-Girlfriend (turning over a new leaf in ‘08)

Dear Ex-Boyfriend,

I sincerely apologise for not replying to your urgent missives sooner. Unfortunately for you, you are no longer the centre of my galaxy.

Now, in response to your indecorous request, the answer is most assuredly a resounding no. I certainly will not ‘get into the spirit of the season for a hand job’ as you so festively described. You should have considered that before gifting me a blender in 2003.

Forbiddingly yours,

Your (uncharacteristically seasonal) Ex-Girlfriend

Dear Ex-Boyfriend,

I am utterly exhausted from your constant demands. Honestly. I thought the point of breaking up was that we could both move on with healthier and happier lives. Yet you continue to impose your overbearing existence on every aspect of my life and I am tired. So so tired.

Therefore, I have seen it fit to max out our last remaining joint credit card to finance a much deserved holiday for me and my new friend. Upon my return, I sincerely hope to find you have gained a better perspective on things.

Au revoir,

Your (completely entitled) Ex-Girlfriend

Dear Ex-Boyfriend,

Ever since we broke up you’ve been hounding me with that question. You know, that question. I think there’s enough time and distance between us now that I can finally give you an answer. Whether it meets with your approval, I’m not completely sure. In any case, here goes. The honest answer is… because I felt like it.

What? You didn’t think I’d become reasonable overnight, did you?

Smugly yours,

Your (slightly capricious) Ex-Girlfriend

Dear Ex-Boyfriend,

Remember when I treated you terribly and you comforted yourself in the knowledge that it might just be pre-menstrual hormones acting up? It wasn’t. I just relished in making you miserable at least once a month.

With love,

Your (uncharacteristically sadistic) Ex-Girlfriend

Dear Ex-Boyfriend,

I was wondering if perhaps you’d pop over and have a look at one of my speakers? It emits a horrible sound every time I try to play music, which precludes me from entertaining my numerous guests properly. As you may recall, I do not get on with the electronic equipment ever since that incident with the George Foreman grill.

Unfortunately, I cannot give you the standard payment because… well, that would essentially constitute prostitution now that we are  no longer ‘together’. However, if you can fit me in (maybe after your karate lesson?) I am certain we can come to a mutually beneficial arrangement.

Expectantly (but not in that way),

Your Ex-Girlfriend

Dear Ex-Boyfriend,

I regret to bring to your attention a highly important matter in which you were unfortunately and detrimentally misinformed.

I have recently discovered—with the assistance of various and sundry battery-operated devices—that I am actually multi-orgasmic (42 in one go at last count). Multiple orgasms are not a myth propagated by hardcore staunch feminists, as you were apparently led to believe. And neither is the G-spot. The jury is still out on female ejaculation, however. I shall keep you duly informed, as a matter of public service.

Sincerely,

Ex-Girlfriend (no longer in a coma)

Dear Ex-Boyfriend,

It has come to my attention that there are three cans of shaving cream still in the shower that belong to you. I have no use for them, as they make my legs smell of aftershave. Besides, after our break up I have taken up waxing. Please retrieve said cans at your earliest convenience. As you are well aware, I am not comfortable with waste. Why you ever needed three cans at once in the first place, I will never understand.

Sincerely,

Your (yes, down there too) Ex-Girlfriend

Dear Ex-Boyfriend,

Was that your jeep parked across the street, in full view of my bedroom window last night? If so, please allow me to clarify that the intermittent opening and closing of the curtains was in no way a secretly encoded message on my part. I was merely attempting to repair the track.

Psychotically yours,

Your Ex-Girlfriend (compulsive, no longer obsessive)