Dear Glorious New Couple That Rose Like a Phoenix from the Infernal Failure That Was My Last Relationship,
As I’ve told you many, many selfless times before, I am so happy for the two of you. Though your relationship was built on the ruins of the relationship I once had with one of you, I support this union. All I’ve ever wanted is for my two friends to be happy, even if it means ripping my heart out of my chest and feasting on the pulsating muscle that once gave me life.
Despite my overwhelming, platonic love for my two friends who have recently developed, or perhaps only recently expressed, epically romantic feelings for one another that supersede the laws of true friendship, I feel that I have reached my limit regarding my obligations toward you. When the three of us went to Mardi Gras together and shared a room and the two of you consummated your love because you believed I was asleep, or maybe you derived some pleasure out of the possibility that I was not asleep and was in fact an unwilling witness to the passion shared between my lost love and his new girlfriend, I politely pretended that I was asleep and allowed you the climax you so required—even though it was only the first night of the trip and you could not possibly have been deprived of one another for an unbearable amount of time prior to that night. Granted I was cold and distant the next morning, but I bucked up and attended parades and posed for photos with a smile on my face.
When the other day, however, you, Ms. Glorious New Couple, approached me about attending shul with you and Mr. Glorious New Couple’s mother because you’re converting to Judaism for him—even though you’ve only been dating a month—and you are nervous about being the only non-Jew there and not knowing what you’re doing, I felt that your request was inappropriate. I politely declined, but you insisted I go to synagogue with you. Since my excuse to run important banking and postal errands Saturday morning would not suffice, let me spell it out for you.
While I am in full support of your relationship, I am simply not cool enough, not big enough, not friend enough to hold your hand, Ms. Glorious New Couple, as you convert so that the two of you can have a nice Jewish wedding. I am not cool enough, big enough, friend enough to watch you, Ms. Glorious New Couple, grow closer to his mother, whom I never got to meet and whom you apparently know so well after one month of dating that you can vouch for her, saying, “She is really awesome and will explain the entire service to us.” I am not cool enough, big enough, friend enough to watch this relationship blossom out of the “it” factor that you, Mr. Glorious New Couple, say is just “different from what we had.” Maybe I am petty, immature, selfish. I can live with that if it means I don’t have to go to shul with you.
So, please, Glorious New Couple That Rose Like a Phoenix from the Infernal Failure That Was My Last Relationship, be together, love one another, grow as a couple. Just leave me out of it.
Sincerely,
Patricia Mitchell