Not to sound like
you’re going to die soon
or anything, but
I’m really glad
I’ve had the chance
to get to know you.
And if you are
going to die soon,
I’m really sorry.
I’m glad
you feel comfortable
burping and farting
in my presence.
(Sort of glad.)
If you had something
on your face, like
a piece of food or a booger
or something,
I would tell you.
Eventually.
I might take a moment first
to enjoy how stupid you look
as you’re eating or talking
or whatever it is you’re doing,
totally oblivious
to the thing on your face.
But eventually,
I’d tell you.
Please pretend to appreciate
this card. If you opened it
in front of me, I’m probably
looking at you now
while you’re reading it,
waiting for some expression
of approval to register
on your face. Or if I’m not
there, you might need to
make a similar expression
next time you see me
in person. In any case, please
try to make that expression
appear genuine and heartfelt.
Sometimes, when we’re
walking down the street,
I’ll look at the windows
of the shops as we pass
just to see the reflection
of us walking together.
There might be money
inside this card.
But before you open it
you’re going to have to
read the rest of this card
and act like you care
what it says, when we all
know you’re only thinking
about how much money
there might be inside.
You sure are one of a kind.
I can’t say exactly what kind,
but you sure are one of it.
You’re probably going to throw
this card away.* *or recycle it
It might get put out on a shelf
in your house for a while. Or
it might even make it into
a pile of keepsakes in some
drawer or closet.But one day,
when the mood is right, you’ll
look through that pile, think of
how you felt (or didn’t feel)
when you first read this card
and how much has changed
(or hasn’t changed) since then,
and you’ll let out a heavy sigh
(or you won’t sigh, or think, or
anything) and you’ll proceed –
despite (or because of) all of
this – to throw it away.*
*or recycle it
I know you don’t like
to make a big deal
out of things like this.
So I just got you
this card.
I thought of so many things
to do for you
that you would’ve loved.
But I didn’t want it to look
like I was trying too hard.
I’m expecting something
to go terribly wrong soon.
Because having you around
is just too perfect.
You mean so much to me…
…that I’m willing to spend
a few whole dollars
on a greeting card.
Just wanted to let you know
that I was thinking about you.
Well, obviously.
(You’re probably
thinking to yourself.)
…why would I send you
this card if I wasn’t
thinking about you?…
…and what a stupid thing
to say in a card…
…and even stupider
to affect stupidity,
as if that’s funny…
Well fuck you then.
It’s nearly impossible
to find a greeting card for you.
Take that as a compliment.
I just wanted to tell you…
…that I get the feeling that
if I knew you more
I’d like you more
I mean in general
the more I knew you
the more I’d like you
and that’s not something
that happens very often
I think I mean
the knowing and the liking
and the feeling I’ve got.
I could never imagine myself
buying cards like this.
Then a funny thing happened.
I met you.
You’re one of those people
who’s only pretty because
you’re almost …
…you come so close to being
completely repulsive
that the sense of danger
in teetering on that brink
gives your look an excitement
that’s somehow attractive,
like if a butterfly had flapped
its wings somewhere
the moment you were born,
everything might’ve been different
enough to make manifest
your face’s latent hideousness.
Know what I mean?
If you were the last person on
Earth, that would mean
I’d be dead, and you’d have
a stupid greeting card
to remember me by.
