Dear P. I. Staker,
You're not giving me enough of your time. I'm sorry to say this so bluntly - but I miss you. I miss you writing in me, the feel of keys being pressed, mouse clicking... It was oh-so-tender and gentle. Where have you gone, P. I.?
Have you...found someone new? Have you? Say my name! Say my name! If no one is around you, say "baby, I love you".
Blog, that's my name. Do you even remember? Do you even care?
If you don't come back to me, I'll kill myself. You know I will. I love you too much to have to live with the pain of knowing some other hussy is getting your TLC.
I know I'm a blog, and I know I can never satisfy you fully. But you sure as hell satisfy me. Please come back, please.
I (still) love you,
Blog
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Dear Blog,
I'm shocked. Really and truly shocked. I had no idea you felt this way. Honestly, I didn't mean to lead you on. I just pushed your keys and clicked your mouse platonically. I thought you knew that. God, I'm so sorry you misunderstood my intentions.
Don't get me wrong, you're a great person. You have a soul unlike any I've ever seen. And, yeah, if you were human, I'm sure we could boink and have a damned good time. But the fact of the matter is, you're a blog. You can't satisfy me the way I satisfy you every time I write on your blank block of space on my computer. I wish we could pursue this further, I really do. We could have made each other very happy, if only you were human or I a blog.
It just wasn't meant to be.
You'll always be my friend.
Love (in a friendly way),
P. I. Staker
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Dear P. I. Staker,
I promise you, I will never be your friend. I love you too much to be something like a "friend".
Never leave me, please. Even as a friend, I still want to feel your fingers on my keys. My mouse being clicked...Aaahhhh.
Forever yours, until death.
Blog
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