Hey, John. I hope you're well. I've seen you on TV a couple of times the last few weeks. I noticed that you didn't throw up or scream obscenities during the inauguration or the State of the Union, like so many of us watching at home did. Bravo. I don't think anyone would have blamed you if you had sat there with headphones on, singing along to Bruce Springsteen and air drumming.
I noticed that you've been sending me more e-mails lately. I think it's really nice that you're trying to help the kids and all, but here's the thing. I think we should stop seeing each other. I know, I know, now is the time you need my help, now more than ever, blah blah Republicans want to take away our babies and sell them to large corporations blah. I'd love to help you, I really would, but I'm afraid it would be too awkward. See, I put my heart and soul into the election. I was SURE you were going to win, especially after the debate(s) where Bush acted like a retarded monkey. I stayed up ALL NIGHT on election night, hoping and praying for states to turn blue. And with each state that turned red, I think I died a little inside. When my own state turned red, I threw a little tantrum, pounded my fists into a pillow, pouted for a couple of days, and cursed you AND Bush. I know it's not all your fault. But really, why did you act so ashamed of your extensive vocabulary? It's OK that you sound smart! You are smart! Didn't you realize how many of us were YEARNING to hear someone who didn't stumble all over their words? Sure, you were a little . . . verbose at times, but I'll take verbosity over someone who vomits word salad all over the place.
So, there you have it. I don't blame you. Anymore. But things will never be the way they were, you know, last October.
I'll always cherish the good times we had together. And there were good times! The canvassing, the anti-Bush rants, the Springfield rally, your little buddy John Edwards . . . all of these memories hold a special place in my heart. Every time I hear "Johnny B. Goode" I'll think of you and wipe away a little tear.
I hope we can still be friends. I'm not saying I want to hang out, but we can still say hi. A little wave might be appropriate. Maybe a high five, on special occasions.
Good luck in the future. Please don't run for President again, ok?