A Letter to the Former Object of my Affection

Dear EE,

FYI, I have your hat. Last week, when I was cleaning out my car in an attempt to remove all evidence of you from my life, I found it. You know the one I'm talking about. It's well broken-in and obviously loved. It was in the back, among the wide variety of gum wrappers which you discarded onto the floor of my vehicle with reckless abandon and never removed (despite the fact that my car is basically spotless and that you know I'm a bit of a neat freak). My friends encouraged me to discard said hat in the trash. RD insisted upon it. Yet, dear mom (Emily Post in the flesh) said I should hold onto it. Secretly, I think she's just hoping we'll reconcile (hey she's pretty eager for grandkids). Because I'm nice, I put it in the trunk of my car. If you had attempted to maintain any sort of communication with me, I would have confessed that I had the hat. But, alas, you seem incapeable of doing so. This is probably because you realize you are an idiot. Trust me, I already came to that realization.

Yours, (not any more)
Objection