We need to talk.
There's something I have to get off my chest. I've been wanting to say this for a while, but haven't had the strength to do it. I don't love you anymore, and I don't think you truly care about me either.
It started with our first date. I got printed up on my best paper at high resolution, but out of the corner of my eye, I kept seeing you look at the other print media. I even caught you checking out a book. I wrote it off, and trusted you, but I never should've.
I thought you had changed, but just the other minute, I caught you reading the Tartan. I can't believe that after so many years, you'd go behind my back and read another newspaper. My parents were right about you after all.
I thought we had something, dear reader. I really thought this was going to work. I trusted you and you took advantage of me. I'm sorry, but I'm breaking up with you. My lawyer will serve you the divorce papers later–maybe you can go make out with those too.