Dear ex-Love
Ain’t wishing you a heart attack! I know you have moved to greener pasture with your new boyfriend...I stalked you last night, not on Facebook or Whatsapp...nah! I am that desperate you know. Followed both of you in the crowded mall wearing Santa Claus get up and saw you guys holding hands and smooching.
The ex-looks like that after reading/https://images.gr-assets.com/hostedimages/1464714649ra/19268106.gif |
It would be such a lie to pretend I am the new maju Dabbang version of not getting heartburn. See, I was seething with jealousy and my face went red the moment you glowed pink. I didn’t check my face in the mirror, though! Feel like Arvind Kejriwal when Modiji won Delhi and that moment pierced my heart.
Now, who sends letter to an ex by post office? I am the one doing that and feel exactly like you are finding me, a certified jerk. Cut the crap, will you! I am not asking that both of us should let bygones be gones and get together after all the fracas and stupid fight. I am not drowning myself in alcohol...Devdas is passé and was such a chutiya. You know na way hotter and sizzling options in the world. You see, babe, it’s such a toughie and I may end up being single for the rest of my life...so much to chose and I am one-man-woman. I mean, I asked you out since there was no option...the sex was ahem! ahem! okayish, I’d say. I am not a terrific kisser, so are you...dunno why you breathed heavily during the act as if inflicted by some malady.
Idea! Yes! Tube light moment right now. I think your virus has hit my nerve...amnesia you see. The gifts, quite expensive you see, branded perfumes, lingerie, wristwatch, lipstick you left in my house. Wait did you leave it or gave it back? You wanted to fling all of them on my face right. I give you an offer...too tempting to refuse! The gifts...super expensive ...I burnt my pocket yet they have resale value next to zero on the market...can’t even get a Jockey brief if I sell all of them.
So, why don’t you fucking come over and pick them up! I am just being self-deprecatory and since I cannot recover a single penny spent, you can always burn them or give it to some homes...that too, I ain’t sure people will accept since donations in kind might be illegal. Waise bhi with the entire notebandi by Modi-ji you can just send it to his doorstep as revenge for not being able to change your 1000 notes. Are you standing in an ATM queue? I feel for you babe and it cannot beat the joy of seeing you sweating...you hate doing that na!
Trust me, honey, it’s the perfect revenge for me to see you sweat and dripping on your flawless skin. I did the last time and stopped the car, halted the traffic and the cop gave me a challan...was fucking slapped twice for halting the traffic. But, all good for nothing beats the sadistic pleasure to watch you sweat and nurse the tears.
Planning to tear this love letter and curse me? You can always keep it for posterity when you in a mood to kick balls.
Ciao
Your now ex-lover
No comments:
Post a Comment