Dear Nauseating Couple With Whom I Used To Be Friends:
Believe it or not, I think it’s fab you’re in love. Love is great. At
least it was when mastodons roamed the earth. But if you guys persist
in showing us all how over the moon you are, *EVERY* *FRICKIN'* *DAY*, I may
have to make a special trip to hit you. Hard. And it won’t be foreplay.
I’m a nice person, you guys, and I really do believe in love, but they
made that Seinfeld episode about Schmoopy for couples like you.
I know it feels like you are the two most beautiful and perfect people
in the world right now, so I hate to get harsh on you, but the rest of us are
NOT bathed in the glow of your passion. Some of us have lives that are
hard and lonely right now and hate the thought of facing another holiday
with just our puppies to kiss. No, that’s not your problem, but this
first flush phase has gone on so crazy-long that I keep praying one of
you does something really disgusting so you can fight about it and not
look so adorably perfect to each other anymore. Somebody leave their
hairs on the soap or fuck up the toothpaste so somebody can’t get the
last drip. Please. I’m begging you. Pick a stupid fight about nothing,
like a real couple, or at least keep your never-ending schmoopiness private. It's cloying and annoying.
Because I feel hideous and unsatisfied and like I’m in second puberty
and if you guys get any more nauseatingly lovey-dovey, I may hide under the bed for six
months. (Not that you’d notice - both being so wrapped up in each other.)
Love,
Your Single Friend
--- Erika
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