Dear Harold

5

Dear Harold,

It has been a long time since I have written, I know, but I have my reasons. Like I told you when I drove you that extra 100 miles to the airport because you could get a cheaper flight from there, that about did me in.

I’ve come to feel you’re taking advantage of me. Now it was nice of you to give me the canned ham at the airport and all, but as I told you before it’s against my religion.

Sometimes, it seems you don’t listen to a thing I say. I’m going to a doctor here—well a counselor—and she says every person in the world, how many ever that is, has a different way of looking at things. But I don’t think you understand that because thinking back, I recall that when I say something, mostly you say ‘ah ha’ and then keep on as if I said nothing. Which really is not the way it is supposed to be.

Thank you for the fruitcake. But Harold, if you send presents, you ought to examine the package. I found a note in it from your Aunt Mildred written three years ago saying Merry Christmas.

I’ve concluded that you are so different as to be weird, something some of my friends have said for a long time.

The truth is I am fed up.

So, goodbye.

Roseanne,

P.S.: I loved you.