Dear Boo-Boo,
 
     I am guessing you have been wondering where I went to lately, given the fact that I haven’t been home for a while. So – I am staying with a friend for now, somewhere in the neighborhood, actually, but don’t try to find me or anything. I will be looking for my own apartment soon, so don’t worry about my accommodations. Hey! I just realized this is really the first time I’ve written you a letter! I mean, there were of course the little love notes in the beginning, but that was so long ago. Just so you know, I will never be coming home again, and I thought that maybe I would tell you why. I’ve evolved! Oh my God, finally – I’ve become someone more complete, almost entirely fulfilled now, so changed that our friends who knew me before might not even recognize me anymore. But I’m proud, really – so no freak-outs, please. Plus, because the things that have currently taken hold of my attention are relatively new for me, I thought that this letter might give me a chance to put down in ink some ideas about why I have taken such a fancy to my new hobbies. Since you haven’t seen or heard from me in about a month, you have to be wondering what the heck happened. Furthermore, because we didn’t have sex for the last sixty-four days of our relationship (and I know how you feel about such lapses in what you currently refer to as “momma’s little ham glazing sessions”), I am guessing that matters have been greatly complicated in your mind. I know the tendencies of your imagination quite well, what with all those evil gnomes of self-destruction pushing their nubby little fingers around in your cerebral cortex, conjuring up the most unholy of thoughts. After all, I would want and expect the same from you, where explanations are concerned. We did love each other, in my estimation. Maybe you actually even still do! We cut each other’s nails, for chrissake. How much closer to someone can you be?
     Now then. The point of this letter. Ok, here goes… a curious event took place some weeks ago, which, I believe, has changed me forever. I'm still grappling with the specifics of this event myself. To launch into things straight away, I think, could only upset and perhaps even terrify you, but I am going to do it like that anyway. You always said, “Rip the band-aid off quickly, don’t snail it off!” I thought that was so cute, with the thing about the snail and how they’re practically the same color as the band-aids, and then they move so slowly along, the snails that is, taking like a year just to make it from the driveway to the edge of the flower pots with the sweet-smelling gardenias on our front porch. I'll really miss that sense of humor you’ve got, won’t I! And remember the time when you accidentally stepped on that snail, crunching it beneath your bare foot as you hopped high trying to avoid it with slippers in your hand? The one in the front of the long line of them, heading towards the porch? So clumsy you always were! Endearing, to say the least. I even stepped on one that night too – just to be supportive! But now I think I may be digressing.
     Deep breath.