Stop it. Just - just stop.
|Today's mail delivery. ENOUGH IS ENOUGH.|
You're just killing trees at this point.
I know you're going to tell me that "you can't help it." That you, being the favorite begotten child of the Fashion Industry, Consumerism Culture, Body Image Issues, and All Things Fleeting But Expensive, cannot be anything other than what you are.
But stop blaming your origins and just go ahead and admit that You. Are. OVERKILL. Because damn.
For starters, YOU REALLY NEED TO STOP WITH THE STALKING. I mean, for real. Did you have spies outside our window the night D and I got engaged? Despite the fact that we kept the news far from Facebook for a full week, the magazine deliveries, emails from wedding websites, and advertorials for honeymoon destination packages and discount tux offers started pouring in immediately.
YOU NEED TO STOP.
I just want you to know that I'm over you. I tried ignoring you, unsubscribing from you, blocking you, but you are so persistent that now I'm going to willfully get in your face and refuse/refute all of your suggestions. For example, here is a partial (representative but non-comprehensive) list of words that YOU keep insisting are absolutely OMG-vital, and which NO ONE will use to describe my wedding:
- Fairy Tale
We're not a good fit, you and me. We have different hopes. Different expectations. And clearly, we work with different budgets. Yours appears to be just this side of Donald Trump's, while mine is hovering somewhere closer to Lean Heady's.
So let me go, okay? Quit me. Please. I'm over you. I just want to move on---
Oh, wait. Oh, hold up. Now that my wedding is about a month away, soon you will drop me like a hot potato and - OH. Oh, crap.
You're going to turn me right on over to The Maternity Industry, aren't you?