no names

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Write a short letter to your first ex to send back in time to the day after you met, telling them what your relationship is going to be like and giving them advice concerning that. No word limit, but don’t beat a dead horse.

Dear Fuckface,

I’d like to say “stay home”, but then certain other positive things would never have happened, so I’m just going to continue with this:  A lot of things are about to go down over the next six months that you are going to horrifically regret in the long run.  You think you’re being clever, hiding the drugs and partners and everything, but it’s not worth it.  In fact, you already looked like an asshole, and after all that denying, you’re going to prove that you don’t look like an asshole, you really are, down deep to the core of your being.

In the end, you’ll think you have the prize, and maybe you do, for a little while, but your own views are going to come back to haunt you.  I’m not going to be there to point and laugh, or even to gloat.

I’m only telling you this right now because I know you won’t listen.  A lot of heartache and pain is coming to me at your hands, and your ego is screaming at you that I must clearly be mistaken, because you’re such a fucking prince, such a fucking catch…

You go on and think that, but remember this:  There are three distinct moments when I contemplate your murder and have ready opportunity and motive.  It takes a lot to get me to that point.  Recognize each of those, and you’ll live and I’ll stay out of prison.

That is literally the best that either of us can hope for out of this.  Circumstance won’t let us avoid the event itself, but our choices in the end… that’s on us.

Also, your taste in scotch, women, and drugs suck.  You have never been nearly as cool as you think you are.

 

ASIDE: If there was a way to get to where I am now without having gone through that, I’d do it.  Time and history does not work that way, and I’m grateful enough for where I am now that I can’t bring myself to regret it.