Dear Winter,
My friend, my love, my dear. I know what you're thinking. I'm not writing you this letter to demand for alimony or to kiss your sister to spite you (I'm sorry about that, by the way), or to post pictures of you in compromising positions on Facebook (I'm sorry about that, too), or even to dack you when I knew that you were menstruating and you didn't have a pad at the time (I'm not sorry, that was hilarious...I'm totally kidding, I'm sorry). I'm just here to tell you, that I love you.
This may come as a shock to you. I know we haven't always been the closest of friends or even friendly to each other at any point. Our marriage was rocky and abusive, but it was still a marriage, and I'm sorry about declaring your tits too saggy and running away with the younger secretary from my office with the bangin' body, Spring. I've now realised the error of my ways. Spring has proven to be a complete shitty bitch shit at the best of times and way, way too hot for me. She's so hot that it hurts, baby doll. And the other day she wanted to rope me from a basketball hoop and make me sing the French national anthem in pig latin (I didn't do it). I know I always criticised you on your cold demeanor, but I've come to appreciate it. I was even considering leaving Spring for Summer, but she's a total S TO THE LUT and she's slept with my best friend, Teddy and I hear that she has multiple STDs and tried to crack onto your dad but your dad is senile and...
Anyway what I'm trying to say is , how about for old time's sake? You and me and the heater, tomorrow night. I love you. I miss you.
Love,
Jess xx
P.S: Outfits I'd wear on dates with you, if you'd take me back -
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