A “Dear John” Letter to Stress

A “Dear John” Letter to Stress

Dear Stress,

I want to break up. I know we’ve been together a long time but I don’t think our relationship is

going anywhere and I want to move on.

It isn’t that your company hasn’t been exciting. Perhaps it’s been a little too exciting—five

episodes of road rage, four trips to the hospital with panic attacks, three arrests for domestic

disturbance, two prescriptions for high blood pressure, and one trip to a shrink . . . all at a cost that

would have bought me a new car in the time since we’ve met.

Add to that financial cost, the emotional destruction of four personal relationships, the time

I’ve wasted being unhappy, and the loss of hope for a happy future.

I realize that you can’t conceive of anyone more exciting than you, but I think I’m looking for

someone who won’t lead me to the hospital or police station or a bar every other week. You once told

me that the Stress family motto is “the confusion created when one’s mind overrides the body’s basic

desire to choke the living shit out of some asshole who desperately deserves it.” If I’d know you came

from such a belligerent family, I might have reconsidered letting you live with me.

You aren’t especially popular with my friends and family either. You don’t play well with others

unless they play by your rules. And if they don’t, you dissolve into a super temper tantrum that lasts

for days, if not weeks.

If your company had a benefit like burning calories, I’d be a supermodel. But I guess it’s no

surprise that your full name (“stressed”) spelled backwards is “desserts.” I’ve gained 30 pounds since I

met you and I wasn’t petite to start with!

And your memory is horrible! You can’t even remember what we were doing a few months ago

that led to my overnight incarceration. And where did you go then? You didn’t even bail me out.

The only time I’m happy is when I’m all alone jogging, reading a novel about an understanding

lover, getting my nails done or shopping with my friends.

And, to be blatantly honest, you aren’t even that sexy. I’m so sorry to tell you this, but being

with you doesn’t do a thing for my libido and often makes it disappear altogether.

You are just too unreliable for me. I’d like someone who is more practical, logical and calm.

You make too many permanent decisions while under the influence of temporary emotions. And then

I have to straighten everything out with all the people in my life whom you have managed to piss off

before they all disown, hate or fire me. You too often get so emotional that you don’t even take the

time to discover the facts.

Stress, I’m sorry but you’ve worn me out and I can’t see us continuing as a couple.

I don’t know if you’re interested or not, but there is one lady I know from high school whom

you might enjoy. She was never very nice to be, but you might find her attractive. Let me know and I’ll

get you her number.

Please don’t call, text or come over anymore. I’ll be doing my best to forget you. I hope you




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