- Top Features:
- War Room
- Glenn Greenwald
- Broadsheet
- Joan Walsh
- Camille Paglia
- Since You Asked
- Follow Salon:
Read other letters about this article
...to burn my bridges in an over-the-top, melodramatic way. Tell him intimate, shocking details about the experience, how delightful it was, and how with that to live up to, he could never have satisfied you anyway, so you're not sure why you've been together this long. Reduce him to a shaking, wailing, puddle of goo. Make sure he'll be impotent every time he gets within 10 feet of any woman for the rest of his life.
And then pat yourself on the back. For heaven's sake, girl, why are you internalizing his crap? Why do you feel you have to apologize or come to terms with anything? Why should his arbitrary, invented-just-by-him-since-he-isn't-religious rules apply to you?
Yep, I'd be tempted. But as entertaining as it is to think about, it wouldn't be very nice. So I'd just get my stuff (it's his name on the lease, isn't it? don't do that next time!), including the cats, shake hands, and say, "Nice to have known you." Maybe next time he has a good thing, he won't be so cavalier about it.
