Amy. Oh, Amy. I remember the first time we kissed. It made me feel gooey inside, like the marshmallows we held over the fire pit as you planted your soft luscious cherry red lips on mine. Our tongues danced and hearts fluttered, first plunging down to the pit of our stomachs, then soaring up to the stars in the night sky. We went to distant lonely worlds that night, just us two lovebirds. The smell of your perfume made my nipples hard, poking through my white t-shirt. You played with them like you were tuning an old transistor radio to your favorite station. I must have been as giddy as a schoolgirl. When you softly nibbled my neck, I remember how my knees joined together and my left foot twisted inwards and..
BUT YOU KNOW WHAT, THAT'S ALL RUINED! How could you kiss him? My best friend of 11 years? Did you think I wouldn't find out? I'm not stupid, Amy. That's the one thing I'm not. Well, I'm also not a slut. I bet you wish you knew what that was like. Let me tell you something, if you thought I could be as a sweet as an angel, wait until you see how hell hath no fury like a Mullakamakalaka scorned! I'm the fallen angel, the devil of your nightmares! It's not going to be pretty, honey.
You used to always smoke Newports. I hated them with a passion. I could never stand the taste of menthol. But I just bought a pack and I'm smoking one now. Seems like I enjoy the taste of hating you now. I'm going to grab that Alanis Morissette CD you made me after our second date at the arcade and drive to your house with it blasting the whole way, windows down. Life's a jagged little pill like she said, and I'm going to make you swallow it! I'm bringing the sweater I stole from you and the flowers you gave me that I saved this whole time. Yes, the flowers from Valentine's day. Those flowers. I'm going to put them on your front lawn and pour gasoline on them. Right before I finish the last Newport, I'm going to throw it on them and watch them burn, like my love for you. I hope you choke on the smoke.
By the time you read this there will probably a big charred black circle on your lawn and you wondering what's going on. Isn't that going to suck for you. Me? I'll be out of town already. I met a new girl and we're going to Chicago. She loves me like you couldn't! You could never handle your emotions. You always kept them bottled up. You'd rather burn me with the end of your cigarette than tell me you love me. I still have some of the burn marks on my arm. I'll carry them with me like the tattoo of a concentration camp survivor, so I can always remember how terrible you were. I'll probably be the only one even thinking of you.
Rot in hell! This guy isn't putting up with you!