# Dear Old Love...



## David Baxter PhD (Oct 12, 2009)

From Dear Old Love:


It’s amazing how a bowl of Lucky Charms just made me happier than you ever did. 


I have a feeling even if we meet each other in a life where we’re both cats, you’ll still be too busy doing catnip and chasing other tabbies to have time for me 


I finally paid off my credit card. It’s nice to know I’m no longer paying for anything I did trying to keep you. 


I don’t want you to say, “I love you.” I want you to say, “I’m sorry.” 


Remember in 8th grade, when we told each other our secrets? I want mine back. 

This is the first time I’ve been sick since we broke up, and what hurts most is you won’t be walking through the door with coloring books, Theraflu, and Ghostbusters anytime soon. 


I’m considering drunk-texting you tonight. I don’t even need to get drunk to do so. 


I love you and I miss you. Please don’t ever come back to me. 


It’s a good thing I had so many other things in my life to be happy about. 


I wish I knew why you worked so hard to win me back, just to ignore me again. I wish I knew why I let you. 


After our last conversation I needed to brush my teeth. 


You were never the one that got away. You’re just the one I let leave. 


Every literary magazine rejected the poem I wrote for you. It wouldn’t have mattered if at least you had accepted it. 


The fish medicine I ordered online for the UTIs you always gave me finally came. 


I wish you would cut your hair—it’s embarrassing to think I dated someone who now looks like a Dragonball Z character. 


Your turn-offs were easy…ons, nearly impossible. 


Remember that time I said you were the love of my life? I meant so far. 


Remember the time you fell off your bike in the middle of the street when you saw me on the sidewalk? Ha-ha. 


I was a really happy person until I met you. 


I wonder if it’s possible to sue you for cat support payments. Funny how after everything you did, sticking me with your fat cat is the thing that ****es me off the most. 


Sober Me is ****ed that Drunk Me believed you. 


I think you stopped loving me because I stopped loving me. 


Do you have any idea how long it’s going to take for me to fall in love again? 


I now live five minutes from the gas station we used as the halfway point on our road trips to visit your family. Every time I pass it, I wonder how long it will be until it doesn’t make me think of you. 


I stopped believing in soulmates, but I started believing in me. 


Screw the leaves and pumpkins and warm fireplaces. I’m boycotting Fall this year because I can no longer spend it falling in love with you. 


Did you think it would be comforting to tell me during our breakup that I’d have better sex with other people? The only comforting thing about it is that it’s true. 


I’m still waiting with wine in the fridge and the dvd player on pause. 


I forgot that when someone’s in love with you they cherish your gifts, want to pick you up at the airport, and find ways to make cheap trans-Atlantic calls. 


I named my rival in Pok?mon Leaf Green after you. Now every time I kick his ass I feel a lot better about how things went between us. 


We did not end with a bang, nor a whimper—it was more of a long, mournful groan. 


My birth control ran out the day you dumped me. 


Why couldn’t you have really been as wonderful as you let me believe you were? 


Every time I get upset at you I organize my closet. It’s almost worth it. 


I flew 1,600 miles to Atlanta to prove my love for you. You drove 18 miles from Marietta to prove that I was a fool 


You said I sounded depressed over the phone. I didn’t tell you that I’m only depressed when I talk to you. 


I thought I had a big enough heart to be happy just knowing you’re happy. I’m ashamed to say I was wrong. 


I used to be a happy, sexy drunk. You turned me into a sad, sobbing drunk. 


You were my real life Ken doll. I wish I could yank off your head, too. 


It both surprises and disappoints me how often I’m right about you. 


Was there ever a time when we liked each other equally, even just for one day? 


Why do you still call me? And why do I always answer? 


Whenever my phone vibrates I look down expecting to see your name. It never is. It’s always an ESPN alert telling me something that suddenly seems unimportant. 


You asked before you kissed me but you never asked before you broke my heart. 


I used to think we were so original. That so many Dear Old Love notes could be ours made me realize we weren’t. 


Please stop flaunting your new girlfriend in front of me until at least 2015. 


When I met your new boyfriend and he pulled a red foam ball from behind of my ear, I thought to myself, “She dumped me for a guy who carries foam balls around?” 


I wasn’t unhealthy for you. You were unhealthy for you. 


Although we’ve broken up, a promise is still a promise. So where’s the “undying love and affection” you promised me? 


I knew it was over from the hugs. They became cold acquaintance niceties instead of warm bear embraces. 


Summer’s over. Does this mean you’re going back to your fall flame? 


I didn’t mind when you made me weak in the knees. It was when you made me weak in the head I panicked. 


I ran hundreds of different ways of how things could have ended differently for us through my mind. They all end with you breaking my heart and me still loving you. 


I finally threw out your toothbrush, but before I tossed it I used it to clean the toilet. I’ve never enjoyed cleaning the bathroom more. 


When I said “I just want you to be happy,” I meant happy with me, not with that jagbag. 


It’s your Birthday. I hope that when you blow out the candles your wish is that I’ll forgive you. 


It must’ve been hard to constantly hear that you were doing things wrong, including things you’d been doing for yourself years before we ever got together—like parallel parking, laundry, and the dishes. I bet you’re STILL doing them wrong. 


Not many people win the lottery and neglect to collect their winnings. Like you, for instance .


You said we could be together in the future. It’s the future now, so where are you? 


Stop reading my blog. Those posts are for my next old love. 


You hated sharing your food with me when we went to dinner. You left me. I’m finally happy, and you’ve gotten fat. 


It’s amazing what time, distance, and a year on anti-depressants can make you realize. We really weren’t meant for each other, and I couldn’t be happier about it. 


Unfortunately, with you, a kiss was always just a kiss. 


Simply seeing your Facebook page induces my stress-induced irritable bowel syndrome. 


You said you liked me from the first time you saw me. I wish you’d look at me again for the first time. 


You knew when we started dating exactly when and how you’d leave me. 


My life is in polka dots. Empty patches of dark holes you created when you walked out our door. 


That one last night of pretending everything was okay was one of the happiest I’ve ever had. 


Last night, I dreamed about you for the first time in years. Damnit. 


I can get over the fact that you cheated. I can get over the fact that you lied. I can’t get over the fact that you came back to me because she said no. 


You promised to always hold an umbrella over me when it rained. Now I live in London, and it always rains, but you aren’t here. 


Once again, I find the snowglobe of my life shaken and thrown out the window. 


When I made you dinner, you’d say I had a lot of great local restaurants to compete with. Whenever I make my new boyfriend anything, even instant oatmeal, he tells me he loves me. 


You faked loving me so well that now I can’t tell the difference. 


Unfortunately we only had one interest in common: You. 


Looking back I realize you were one of your favorite movies: The Big Chill. 


Now at the end of the night I drink a beer and smoke a couple cigarettes so I can taste and smell like you. 


Everything you did to me was intoxicating. But I could only take so many hangovers. 


Your hair on my pillow didn’t make me smile. It made me grab the Dustbuster. 


There’s a reason why I used to sign all my letters to you with just “Me.” I knew it wouldn’t last. Now all you have to do is pretend they’re from whoever you happen to be with. 


You’re the pit in my stomach that won’t go away. I’m the idiot who never takes Pepto Bismol. 


I want you to know that you ruined my belief in the following things: shooting stars, wishing wells, ladybugs, fallen eye lashes, wishbones, birthday candles, and oh yeah, love. 


I keep telling myself, “If I’d never moved to Eugene, I would have never met you.” But the truth is, I could have moved anywhere and met anyone and they would have been my first love. So in reality…you’re not all that special.


I have finally realized that no one will compare to how I saw you, not even you.


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## Daniel (Oct 12, 2009)

> Now at the end of the night I drink a beer and smoke a couple cigarettes so I can taste and smell like you.



:rofl:


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## Retired (Oct 12, 2009)

Ouch!!...mg:


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## David Baxter PhD (Oct 14, 2009)

A few more:


I?ve replaced you with various stimulants, affectionate cats, and obsessive cleaning binges. 


All I really want is for you to pine for me the rest of your life, knowing you can?t ever have me. 


You were a puzzle missing all the edge pieces. 


I would have loved you completely, loyally, and without question. Like a dog. But I'm a cat person.


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## David Baxter PhD (Oct 26, 2009)

This one made me laugh:


Stop commenting on my blog if you’re not going to marry me.


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## Dragonfly (Nov 1, 2009)

David Baxter said:


> Stop commenting on my blog if you?re not going to marry me.


:rofl:  How about:

"I never really knew you until we weren't together anymore"

df


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## white page (Nov 2, 2009)

> You were my real life Ken doll. I wish I could yank off your head, too.


:rofl:


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## David Baxter PhD (Nov 2, 2009)

A few more:


Last night I had a dream that you were speaking to me in German. Why would you do that? You know I don’t speak German!
I knew I stopped loving you the night I finally turned my phone on silent, deciding sleep was more important than your late-night, alcohol-fueled texts.
I guess we were never quite on the same page. Now I’m tearing your pages out.
I don’t think that falling in love is a stupid waste of time. But falling in love with you was.
Your ability to hurt everyone in your life without taking any responsibility for it is astounding. And you always thought you weren’t talented.
You were never the person I fell in love with.


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## David Baxter PhD (Nov 4, 2009)

I blame our failed love on the dead roses that sat on your headboard. You obviously know nothing about feng shui.


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## David Baxter PhD (Nov 9, 2009)

Your toothbrush is now being used in the bathroom to clean scum. So, actually, nothing has changed.


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## Dragonfly (Nov 9, 2009)

part of the note left on the kitchen table:  "....  So, I am leaving.  I took the dog, the cat and the fish because they all hate you too."


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## David Baxter PhD (Nov 9, 2009)

:lol:

It's an evil pleasure, I know, but some of these are really funny.


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## Dragonfly (Nov 10, 2009)

David Baxter said:


> :lol:
> It's an evil pleasure, I know, but some of these are really funny.



Yes.  I quite agree.  Some of these caused me to laugh out loud at work ...  But I claim my humanity by the reality that my laughter clearly occurs while looking in the mirror.

df


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