all the same, I think I'll watch my back.
7:16 p.m.

Dear girl whom I have called Her Majesty for as long as I can remember,

We got your email. Well, he got it first, but eventually we both got it.

Getting married. Seems like it took a while, but ou guys are finally getting around to it.

Best of luck to you guys. Honestly. I mean, despite our rocky beginnings (I was, after all, the other woman, wether I realized it or not, and feel free to congratulate yourself - he told you the truth long before he told me) you seem to have been a good friend. You've certainly been kind and caring towards me.

However, I don't entirely trust you. Paranoia? Maybe. Or maybe I fail to see why you felt the need to email him about the wedding. Trust me, he doesn't care.

I remember the multitude of times you assured me that you and he would never have worked out, but more than that, I remember the time (or maybe two times) that you speculated to me that maybe you guys would have been great together if you hadn't been such a bitch.

And maybe that's true, but I doubt it. Face it, sweetie, no matter how you feel/felt about him, he never loved you.

So, again, I wish you the best of luck with your marriage. But, if you're really thinking of trying to get him back - ever, let me make a suggestion:

Forget it, bitch. You don't want to fuck with me. No matter how sweet I may seem to you.

Sincerely,

the only girl he's ever loved

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