As our friendship escalates in intensity, I feel that I, being your borderline platonic/romantic companion, am obligated to advise you to terminate your relationship with the Anonymous Nobody Male; he of the kind eyes, tall stature, sturdy physique, etc.; that is to say, your boyfriend. Get rid of him, please. Sever this “unshakeable bond of affection” between you, please. Inform him of his irrelevance, please. Why do you dillydally on this issue, the one impediment to our future as lovers? I mean, I really cannot emphasize enough how important it is for our relationship’s steady progress that you rid your life of this, admittedly, compassionate, congenial individual.
For so long, I thought you would break up with him of your own volition, especially considering the text you sent—“wet brownies haha <3 you!”—which explicitly expressed your love for me and also something about wet brownies, I don’t recall, probably doesn’t matter. But instead, you spent an additional four months in blissful communion with this Anonymous Nobody Male, conferring affection that, assuming a just universe, rightfully belongs to me. This is a travesty, indicative of either a dead or malicious God. Why would you, an intelligent discerning person, emotionally invest so completely in an inferior creature, my dear? It’s a conundrum, I have to say, a real humdinger. Every time I check Facebook, I see photos of you and the ANM kissing at the zoo, kissing at the Japanese Gardens, kissing in Paris, kissing in an art museum in front of a painting of two people kissing, and it makes me think, Wow, if I didn’t know any better, I’d think she preferred the ANM to me and my sparkling personality, unique facial features, and slender arachnoid body structure.
That’s impossible though. We spend so much time texting and hanging out together, often for hours or even entire days. Sure, it’s in the presence of other people, and sure, I initiate the texting 95% of the time, but still. Put it this way: I can’t conceive of a future in which our friendship has not intensified into a romantic relationship, one that entails the following: handholding, full-body embracing, head lying against clavicle, kissing, cuddling, permanent cohabitation, gratification of void in soul region, regular oxytocin release, and, of course, miscellaneous concupiscence excluding masks, excrement related, and painful/scary type acts. I’ve composed a list of possible timelines based on our current relationship trajectory, incorporating variables like you not breaking up with ANM or you feeling “confused” regarding romantic feelings—all scenarios eventually lead to a long-term relationship, so why waste time?
If I were to graph my joy (x-axis) versus your relationship satisfaction (y-axis), it would be an inverse correlation, a diagonal line dipping down into oblivion. Each argument you confide to me about is a delicious treat to be savored, to be suckled upon in darkness, a jump up the graph. Every time he says something dumb or irregular in my presence, I amplify it, repeat it to you later in a mocking tone so you understand what an inferior creature you’ve chosen. Every silly mistake he makes—forgot to wash the dishes, didn’t call you when he said he would—I reiterate how you deserve better i.e. me. Still, none of it has an effect; you cling to him like a weighted life preserver.
My dear, you’re wasting precious years of your life (3 already!) with this preening handsometown. I understand you’re biologically manipulated by his copious facial hair and masculine jawline; that primal evolutionary mechanisms are triggered by his broad shoulders and powerful calves, but look beyond the superficial. I send you countless hilarious text messages. Does ANM spend hours per day composing flirty witticisms on his phone, deploying them on a regulated schedule throughout the day? No, because his love is inadequate. My love comes from deep down, like earthworms in a rainstorm wriggling from the mud.
This will be a difficult breakup, I know, with terrible repercussions requisite to the end of a 3-year relationship, so I’m happy to offer advice on how to handle it, you’re welcome. Personally, I would just text him ‘I’m breaking up with you,’ and when he texts, ‘What?’ I’d text back, “I’m serious. You are irrelevant and Brad is way better,’ and when he texts, ‘Ha ha, very funny,” I’d text back, ‘Why is that so funny. He’s a completely legitimate choice as a boyfriend,’ and when he texts, ‘Wait, who is this?’ I’d text back, ‘Your girlfriend, obviously,’ and when he texts, ‘I’m confused. Is this a joke?” I’d text back, ‘No, I’m breaking up with you. We’re donzo,’ and when he texts, ‘Donzo? Who is this really?’ well, then I’d stop texting because who cares what a dumb ANM thinks. This will minimize the chance of being swayed by empathy or entrenched affection.
Of course, if people lived forever, I’d say, “Go ahead, my dear. Follow this thread to its logical conclusion. I’ll wait.” But our lives are ephemeral; one day, possibly tomorrow, you’ll die (this is not a threat, just a fact, okay?), and you don’t want to have wasted your limited time on earth interacting with substandard humans like the ANM. As the lights go out forever, you don’t want to think, Gosh, I could’ve lived a worthwhile life kissing Brad on the mouth, but instead, I frittered away my time on ANMs. I really blew it. I only hope, here at the end of my life, he forgives me for my total lack of judgment. But I wouldn’t, and then you’d be dead. So break up with him now please. 
