Dear Hillary,
I remember when I first saw you across the bar. You seduced me those experienced eyes and that raucous, sarcastic laugh. One thing led to another -- too many cosmos, a long conversation about solutions for America, staggering arm-in-arm back to my place. I vetted your credentials all night long. Good times.
I don't know how it got so nasty. I tried to make it as obvious as possible -- I've chosen someone else. There's no chance -- none -- that we'll be starting something up again. I'm with Obama.
But now I seem to see you everywhere. You plead with me about experience vs. "rhetoric." You call me at 3am to tell me to "get real." When that doesn't work you cry, you beg, you tell me how hard it's been, how it's all unfair. In a flash you're wiping away the tears and ridiculing me for being so deluded by hope. You tell me it's all a lie, and say I'd be better off with McCain than Obama. You slip notes under my door saying he betrayed me with Rev. Wright.
And lately you're telling all our friends how it's not over yet, how it's still possible for me to change my mind. You say it's a "Myth" that I can't come back to you. You say I'm going to get cold feet.
I don't how to make it more clear that that's not going to happen.
So please stop. It's pathetic, and it's bad for both of us: you're tearing my family apart.
In Memoriam,
Most Democrats
P.S.: Don't make me get a restraining order.
