NICE GUY
By
Nathan O'Hagan
Nathan O'Hagan
Dear Karen,
I'm writing to you because I don't want us to part on bad terms. I don't want last night's conversation to be our final one. I think we owe that to ourselves, and each other. It's with deep regret that I have now come to accept that it is over between us. I will carry this regret with me till the end of my days. I know I must respect your decision, and allow you to build a new life, a life that will, alas, have no room in it for me.
I live in hope, however, that we can move on from here as friends. We have been such a huge part of each other's lives that I think it would be foolish for us to sever all ties with each other. The coming weeks and months will be an uneasy transition for us both, and who better to provide support through the fallout of our relationship than each other? If this is something you would like then please write back to inform me of your decision.
Love, always.
David
*
Dear Karen,
Well, I haven't heard back from you, so I can only assume that my offer of friendship has been rejected. I suppose I can understand why. Such situations often don't work out, especially when the two people involved have had such strong feelings for each other.
While it saddens me deeply, I must now accept that you wish me to play no part in your life.
If you ever change your mind, then you know where to find me.
Goodbye Karen, and good luck in all that you do.
Love,
David
*
Dear Karen,
I have now written two emails and heard nothing back from you. I hope you are OK. Receiving no response is more than a little worrying. I know things are all probably a bit topsy-turvy for you at the moment, they are for me too. All I'm trying to do is deal with this as maturely as possible. Just because we are no longer together, it doesn't mean we have to have nothing to do with each other anymore. But if this is really what you want, then I must respect that too, but please, write to me one last time, just to tell me that it’s what you want. Then I shall never contact you again.
David
*
Dear Karen,
Is it really too much to ask that you reply to just one of the three emails I have taken the time to write? After everything we've been through together, I don't think I’m being unreasonable. Is it really so difficult for you? After all we had, to not even acknowledge me, well, it just seems cruel.
Could you not spare just a few minutes of your day, just to let me know what you're thinking?
David
*
Dear Karen,
OK, fine. You win. We will never talk to each other again. Obviously the time we spent together means fuck all to you. All those years don’t merit one lousy fucking response. So fuck it, no contact at all. We can blank each other if we pass in the street. We can forget we were ever a couple. Just wipe each other from our memories. Really fucking mature.
*
Dear Karen,
Please forgive the tone of my last message. I didn't mean to lose control like that. It's just very difficult for me at the moment. I guess I just needed to prolong contact with you as I grow used to being without you, and when you didn't reply to my first few emails, it really hurt me. I'm not excusing myself, I shouldn't have said those things. That was out of character, but you already know that. I now accept how things are, and I promise you won't be hearing from me again.
Goodbye Karen. I'll never forget you.
David
*
Karen
You fucking cruel bitch. You fucking cold hearted, ice queen. Fuck you. You think you're so much better than me that I don't even warrant one single fucking email? You're so fucking superior aren't you Karen, so fucking holier-than-thou. You always fucking were, that was the fucking problem - not all that shit you accused me of. Always thought your shit didn't stink. Well, having shared a bathroom with you for nearly three years, I can tell you that your shit does fucking stink. Little Miss fucking Perfect. Let me tell you Karen: you're not as fucking perfect as you like to think you are. Our relationship ending was as much your fault as it was mine. I'm the one who has tried to be grown up about all this. But whatever, that's it, I'm done with you, you vicious fucking cold hearted bitch. You want to ignore me? Well, two can play at that game.
*
Dear whore
By the time you read this message my brains will be splattered all over my office wall. And I want you to know, beyond all doubt, that it’s 100% YOUR fucking fault. I'm the one holding the gun, but you couldn't be more responsible for this if you had actually pulled the fucking trigger. Fuck you fuck your family fuck your friends fuck everything about you, you smug self righteous cunt I hope you're fucking happy that you've reduced me to this you fucking bitch. My suicide note will consist of one single word: KAREN. And before I pull the trigger I will slit my wrists and write your name in my own blood all over the walls. That way EVERYONE WILL KNOW THAT IT'S YOUR FAULT. And I hope that knowledge haunts you till your dying fucking day. And I hope that day comes soon. I hope you die a slow, painful death you slut. I hope you get every form of cancer known to man. I hope your tits and your ovaries rot. I hope your lungs turn black. I hope your cunt shrivels and decomposes. If you go on holiday I hope it's to the Middle East and you get kidnapped by a gang of Islamic militant nutters who force you to be a jihadi bride or fucking behead you live on the internet. If you go into a bank I hope you get caught up in a violent robbery and get your fucking head blown off in the cross-fire. If you go for a nice walk in the park I hope you get savaged by a fucking pit-bull. If you go for a quiet drink with friends I hope you get Rohypnol dropped in your drink and get gang raped. I hope the simplest car journey ends in utter fucking carnage. Fuck you Karen I hope the guilt of my death stays with you and poisons you and metastasises to destroy every part of your fucking life. I hope this messes you up so fucking much that you are never able to love again and are never able to be happy you cunt you slut you bitch you whore.
I will love you always,
David
*
Dear Karen,
Sorry about those last couple of emails. I think I might have overdosed slightly on Night Nurse.
Can we meet for lunch one day next week?
David