my heart sank. into my stomach. and my fantastically new pilates abs couldn’t catch it on its way down.
You have the balls to send me an ecard to “check up on me”, but not to break up with me in person?
gulp. excuse me while I try to organize all of the witty replies swirling around in my head.
“Just touching base in case you ever get rich”
I am rich with reasons to not reply, ever.
You will not keep me on this string. You do not keep me on this string. Or at the very least I am going to try my absolute hardest to never let you know that the last remaining string is obviously still attached- to my heart, which is now casually resting on the yogurt I had for breakfast- in my stomach.