Dear Carly,
I understand that you're mad, and I don't begrudge you your opinions of me and our time together. There are a few matters though, that I cannot allow to go unchecked. Firstly, my scarf was salmon, not apricot. You should know seeing as you bought it for me. I told you it was too effeminate, but you insisted I wear it anyway, and now you are mocking me for doing so? Low, Carly, Low. And yes, my hat was strategically placed. To cover my scratched cornea, the result of your poorly executed attempt to stab me in the eye with your violin bow. I have forgiven you for this incident, but I think it is in poor form to bring up something you are clearly at fault for, to malign your opponent. Let's see, what else? Ah yes! I sincerely doubt that ALL of the girls at the party dreamed that they'd be my partner. Wasn't a young Jodie Foster there? This is simply a projection of your jealousy and if I may be so bold, your own vanity, Carly. You were sleeping with me, so you assumed the whole world wanted what you had. I'm not a psychiatrist, but that sounds like classic narcissism to me. In Layman's terms, don't put your shit on me, dear. Next: Yes, I do think this song is about me. Not because I am vain, but because it is clearly referencing specific moments in our relationship. I bet on that horse because it was named Carly and I invited you to come to Nova Scotia. It isn't my fault you hate Canadians. I'm sorry there were clouds in your coffee dear, but didn't I tell you to always check the expiration date before you pour the cream? You are better than this solipsistic drivel, Carly. I did love you and I did leave, but you aired our dirty laundry in front of all the world and made me half-blind. I think we are even.
Sincerely,
name redacted.
