Hey D-babe

Parents are away for the weekend. Christen their queen-size with me? Hit me back ASAP.

- Lawr


~*~


Davey,

I don't know what's happened, but why have you stopped returning my calls? Are you avoiding me? I haven't seen you at any of our usual meetup spots, either. One of the guys at GameStop said he saw you come in and browse the PC section for a bit a couple weeks ago, but he had to get something from the back, and when he came back out, you were already gone. Let me know what's up, I miss you.

Your Laur-bar

~*~



Dave:

Still no word from you, so I tried your friends, and they've been no help. Are you hiding something from me? Is "raid" a code word for some weird sex thing? Or someone else you're having weird sex with, instead of me?

They mention these "parties" all the time, but just blink, mutely, when I ask if they're going to just have cans or bottles, or if someone's bringing a keg. I tried looking up directions to one of the places Rick mentioned, but there's no "Gnomeregan" or "Mulgore" in the area, nevermind in this state.

I was thinking they could be the names of residence houses on one of the area college campuses; I know at my school, we've got houses named after all sorts of weird, obscure philosophers, and their names get pretty crazy. Where are you? I think we need to talk.

- Laura


~*~


Seriously, Dave?

I got your reply to my last email, finally, about how I was getting aggravated by your crap. Thing is, I can't make heads or tails of the thing. I'm going to assume "pally" is some ironic throwback term for "friend," but what exactly would any of my friends do to "tank" for me, and how would that help this situation at all?

It's like you're speaking some sort of crazy new language you just made up. Try again, in English, and we still may have a chance to work this thing out.

- L


~*~


David, I'm done with this.

I'm tired of these games, and your unwillingness to try and resurrect what we had rather than having to drag yourself all the way back to where you started. We're through. I hope you're happy with this other woman (women? men?) or whatever, because I know I'm going to be a lot happier without an invisible boyfriend who isn't around to stick his invisible penis in me because he's never there. Not that it was all that visible when you were. Go to hell.

No, really. I don't like you at all, and I don't want to talk. Not that you do. Delete my number from my phone and forget about responding to this.

I hope I never see you again, but somehow, I don't feel like that's going to be an issue.