Wow, that’s just …

Wow.

She’s totally wrong for you. You can see it in her eyes — the hope. As long as you’re with her, she’s only going to be holding you back from the true ecstasy of deep pain. What you’re feeling now is merely angst. You should end your relationship, drive halfway across the country, and check into a motel. Bring a quart of bourbon, all the pills you can scarf from your mother’s medicine cabinet, a pen and a notebook. Sit in the dark for an hour. Turn on the light, and start drinking the bourbon. Write poetry. Revel in the anguish of knowing you’ll never see her again, and that she probably won’t even mourn your loss. Write some more poetry. Drink the rest of the bourbon and take the pills.

When we don’t hear from you anymore, we — your brothers and sisters in darkness — will know that you have pbumed on from this agony and will remember you forever.

Requiescat in pace.