You are a nice girl with a good heart, but I honestly couldn't stand being your boyfriend anymore. You will probably never read this, but I think you deserve an explanation. Here are the REAL reasons I broke up with you last month:
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1. I don't need to be on your daily download list. You would think the hourly calls to your mom and sister would give you your fix. Please understand, guys just don't do this. I really don't need to hear about your sister's dental exam. I have no vested interest in your mom's car troubles. Your office politics are important, yes, but I think an update once per quarter would be enough. And the stories about the guys your gay roommate brings back to your place kind of turn my stomach.
2. At age 31, you have to have some ambition in life, beyond paying off your parking tickets. Sleeping in until the moment you leave for work, then getting drunk every night the moment you leave work, are not the best ways to lay the foundation for your existence as a human being on this earth.
3. Your apartment is disgusting. I hate to be blunt, but I gave up the "college dorm" scene when I left my college dorm. One bathroom for a house full of roommates and their fuck buddies is more of a gamble than I want to face when I wake up in the morning and have the racehorse urge. And the fact that you still live with your college roommates a decade later pretty much says it all. Get your own pad, or share with one cool person, but at the least, hire a maid once a year. Normal people beyond the age of 21 shouldn't live like poverty students in an unaccredited community college.
4. Smokers smell bad. It gets in your hair, on your clothes, and fouls your breath. And what are you doing smoking? Even Brad Pitt finally gave it up and admitted it isn't cool. Come on, you're not driving a tractor in West Virginia. And since you love to complain about how old you are looking, please realize that the smoking is not doing your complexion any favors.
5. You have a body hair problem. Letís discuss:
A) First of all, you gotta do something about that stubble on your chin. Please, you can't claim that you haven't noticed it. As self-absorbed as you are, you notice microscopic flaws that a trained forensic detective would never detect. There's waxing, electrolysis, and other ways to get rid of that stuff. If you saved the money you waste on butts and parking tickets, it would pay for itself.
B) Second, the stubble on your legs is like the industrial sandpaper we used to use on the construction crew to remove cement. YES, I do notice it when you try to cuddle just as I'm falling asleep and your barbed wire calves slice open my skin. Maybe itís not that ďI donít like to cuddleĒ, but possibly that ďI detest painĒ?
6. Your friends suck. Granted, theyíre your friends and itís wonderful that you have some, but the drunken bitch you made me sit next to who couldnít shut up and had nothing positive to say was beyond the indulgence meter. The other one canít stand the fact that I blew off her on-line advances and hence bad mouths me behind my back all the time. Face it, she flirted with me and never told you; what kind of friend is that?
7. My friends never liked you. I know this is not in itself a justification for dumping someone, but when not ONE of your friends has anything positive to say about your girlfriend, it kind of sends a nice, big, objective, third-party signal. . . .
8. Your almost getting arrested the night I introduced you to my mother did not help your cause. Look, parking tickets aside, you simply have to register your car. And if the three of us are in your car driving to my momís birthday dinner, getting us pulled over because a cop notices you havenít bothered to register your car is just bad potential mother-in-law karma. Believe me, as an only child, and at my advanced age, my momís desire for grandchildren has lowered her standards to the point where any breathing, non-crack-whore potential mate will do. This is the first time she has actually questioned my judgment about a girl I am dating.
9. You gotta look sexy, once in a while. Now, Iím not into high maintenance women. But wearing jeans EVERY day just gets a little boring, eventually. I still refuse to believe that every woman doesnít own at least one skirt. Come on, guys need to see some leg to get the old juices flowing once in a while, even if it is covered in stubble. A dress, skirt, shorts Ė anything that shows a little skin will do!
10. Your you-know-what is disgusting. Whatever that strange birth control device was that you insisted on using -- which caused chronic bleeding and I kept hitting every time we knocked boots -- was just not worth it. I was happy to switch to condoms. And please, thereís a reason they refer to trim as ďtrimĒ. It really is sexy to trim it. Letting it grow wild, especially with all the dried blood caught up in it, was too much. Thatís why I stopped making house calls.
11. If you have what looks like herpes sores, then get them checked out. Even if you claim they are cold sores. Especially when I ask you to. And stop kissing you. Donít you even care about your health, and whom you might infect?
12. Constantly denigrating the thing I care most about in life Ė literature Ė is not the best way to kindle my feelings toward you. What is it with you unevolved women, you always think itís about you? I love great literature, and you donít, so please donít take it personally. This is called insecurity. What you are doing is projecting. You project your insecurity by attacking me. This is not good. This is not what loving, mature people do.
13. (A Free, Bonus Reason) Finally, and this is the big one Ė believe it or not Ė but you were just TOO into me. You took all of the challenge out if it. Calling me every day, wanting to be with me every night, telling me too soon how great I am. This is not healthy. This is an inversion of the atavistic male/female dynamic. You left nothing left for me to do. No chasing, no winning, no challenge. Please, and take this as sincere advice, you gotta leave something for the guy to do. If the battle is won, all he can do is look for the next battle. . . .
this is in or around Cambridge