Dear Chad,

I have made the preparations for the move and my belongings will be gone by tomorrow. I have left everything you have ever given me and I have taken the liberty to take back everything I ever gave you. It will be like we never existed; that is exactly what you want, right?

Tell me the truth; you never expected us to last. You never wanted us to last. It was all a game to you; thrill of the chase, right? You got high off the fact that only you could rile me up - that only you could get me so upset and then ironically enough, only you could make me feel better. You enjoyed pursuing me and getting everything you possibly could from me. The flowers, the dinners, the nights - they were all just to see how far you could get me to go. My heart, my body, my soul. You managed to get it all. Everything, every little part of me was yours. But after you got it all, there was nothing left to 'win'. You had everything of mine. There was no longer a 'chase' because I had nothing left to offer. All off me. And it would have stayed yours for eternity.

Unfortunately, there's always a, 'but'.

But you got bored.

After winning all these prizes and boosting your ego even more, you eventually got bored. You grew tired of me - I could no longer keep you entertained. My heart, my body, my soul: it was no longer enough for you, right? Everything I gave you, every little part of me. It was never enough.

Fine. That's fair. People become uninterested in the people they supposedly love, right? They get tired of the same old, same old. Love is a catalyst for change. I know that. I learned it the hard way.

But you could have at least had the decency to end it the right way. Instead, you took your career and used it as an excuse to get as far away from me as possible. How convenient it is that you were offered a movie deal in Canada when your interest for me was starting to waver. You knew I wouldn't try to make you stay, saying it was a deal no one could pass up. I would never have stopped you from pursuing your vocation. During those endless days and nights, though, you don't know how much I cried for you. You don't know how lonely I was.

Your excuse is that we drifted apart. We didn't talk enough anymore. But you were hundreds of miles away - what was I supposed to do? I felt like a nuisance every time I tried to call and you did not pick up. Slowly I just stopped calling. If you had cared enough like you claimed you did, then you would have called me back. You would have sent me a letter. You would have visited.

I have no doubt that you were completely fine up in Vancouver, if not joyous. My calls and texts were left unanswered and every night I'd just sit by the phone waiting for your call. So when you say you left messages, that was a lie. You never called me.

"I'm leaving you for my career. Goodbye," was the uncaring note I was left after weeks of silence. Do you realize how much that hurt me? Or did you forget that I am a human being and that I have feelings, too? And when I had the audacity to call you and you did me the honor of picking up, you made it clear how you felt. I am, of course, just a 'Wisconsin farmhand' who 'grows' cheese. Just a 'poor girl' with no idea of class. You so adamantly screamed at me that I had been a disgrace and next time you would listen to your mommy and date a good, rich girl.

So tell me - how is Selena? She's a famous, rich actress, right? Yes, I know about her. How could I not? Within days of unceremoniously breaking my heart, you were off flaunting your new relationship with her. Did you know that gossip travels quickly through Condor Studios? It's like a contagious virus - a bubonic plague of sorts. And that's where I heard that the reason you like her is because she, "doesn't try". What is that supposed to mean? Did I try too hard? Excuse me for caring about you. Excuse me for ever loving you.

I hope you are exploding with joy in your new relationship. I hope she makes you happy like I thought I did. I hope she's just as good as I thought I was. I hope you last forever like I thought we would.

No, wait. That's a lie.

I don't hope that you're happy. I hope you're miserable in your new relationship. I hope you compare her to me and I hope you see how she falls short. I hope you don't pretend to love her as much as you pretended to love me. I hope that when you're making love, that you'll think only about our first time. I hope she's nothing like me and that you'll see how much I really loved you.

I loved you.

You asked me one question. How would I, the simpleton, like to be your friend? You'd do me that honor? You'd grace me with the title of friendship? Oh how noble. How kind. What a generous offer. It just makes me want to scream. Why would I be your friend? I can't be in the same room with you without thinking about what we had. I can't be in the same room with you without crying. I can't be in the same room with you without wanting to just disappear. So to put it simply, no. I physically cannot be your friend.

Godammit, I miss you. Can't you see that? I know, I know. I'm pathetic. But I've come to terms with the fact that I'm a loser. I'm sick to my stomach every time I think about you being with another girl. My heart aches and I'm blinded by tears. I need you. Didn't you say that you couldn't live in this world without me? What a lie. Another lovely lie.

God. I'm so pathetic. I hate myself for caring about you so much. I hate how I still love you. I hate how you don't care about me anymore. I hate how you dropped me like a stone. I hate how you moved on so quickly. I hate how you don't look at me like you used to. I hate this. I hate myself.

"It's just my ex, I don't know what her problem is." Another terrific line passed down from the grapevine from you to yours truly. My problem? I have many. One of them is the fact that I can't seem to get over you. Can you tell me how you do it? Can you tell me how you move on from one person to the next? How do you stop loving someone? Or did you ever love me at all? Is that how it was so easy? You never loved me?

Good. I'm glad you didn't. Please, hate me more. It just makes this burden I have to carry so much harder. It makes this pain that I bare so much more painful.

I really should just move on. And perhaps I will. I'll move on so well that I'll end up thinking about you less and less. And, if I'm lucky, I won't think about you at all. But there will be those moments where I do think about you, and I wonder: Do you ever think about me and what we had?

You lost something really great; I hope you know that. I would have gone to the ends of the Earth for you. I would have died for you, happily.

But now after everything is said and done, you've left me an emotional wreck. I'm caught in between emotions of anger, sadness, regret and everything else. To be honest, I wish I never met you. I wish you hadn't stolen my yogurt; maybe then we wouldn't have talked. I wish you hadn't stolen my heart and danced with me in the rain. I wish you hadn't broken my heart and shattered it into a million pieces. God, I just wish I hadn't met you.

This is my last letter to you. This is the last time I will ever try to get in contact with you. This is the last time I'll ever say this: I love you. And I'm so pathetic I'll never stop.

Dammit.

I'm glad you won't actually ever read this.

Yours,

Sonny

Dear Chad Dylan Cooper,

I have made the preparations for the move and my belongings will be gone by tomorrow.

In response to what you said earlier, of course I would love to be friends with you.

Sincerely,

Sonny Munroe