The Kat House

Dear Stalker,

I had almost forgotten what it was like to be held in such high regard by a man. Coming home to find your little tokens of love at my mailbox - beer bottles, cigarette butts, Almond Joy wrappers - made my heart flutter and my stomach turn. Ah, what bittersweet memories!

It’s hard to believe that it has been nearly a year since I packed up and moved some 4 miles away. I’m sorry I left you without so much as a forwarding address, but it was for your own good. Nothing positive could have come from our relationship. You and your longneck bottles. Me and my pop top cans. We were from two different worlds, you and me.

Imagine my surprise when I came home to find an empty box of Sour Patch Kids on the lawn a couple of weeks ago. For one brief, fleeting moment, a feeling of deja vu swept over me. A vision of your ski-masked face came to mind. And then, like GT ONE cigarette smoke in the wind, it was gone. You were gone. And I was left with nothing but a random piece of litter on the grass.

Until today.

Today I pulled into the driveway to find an empty corn dog wrapper and a cigarette butt - a GT ONE to be exact! A GT ONE covered in greasy KFC fingerprints! I felt a stir deep within my heart. Turns out that it was only the Mexican food I had for lunch, but hey - can beggars really be choosers?

I was all set to reconsider this relationship, until I saw it - an empty Mounds wrapper. That’s when I realized that we have far bigger differences than our choice of beverage container. The past year has turned you into a man I don’t even recognize anymore. And this will never work. It’s time we both faced a harsh reality - Almond Joy’s got nuts! Mounds don’t!

Sincerely,

Tish