You have spent the first week of November torturing me. I still have to lead my life, you know. I can't put the world on hold and devote my every waking hour to you. I know that's what you want, but it simply can't be done.
What more do you want from me?
No, the pressure of a deadline doesn't bother me. That fact is you're needy and a nag. Knowing those unreasonable expectations you have for me has kept me huffing and puffing and generally overwhelmed. I am requesting that you cease and desist.
I think our relationship should remain strictly professional. That means no more late night phone calls or following me home. I have to admit I've been waiting for the horror movie scene where my laptop powers on by itself at four in the morning and the NaNoWriMo screen comes up.
Please don't be hurt. I know this seems sudden, considering that we share a common purpose. All I've ever wanted to be is a fiction writer. All you want to do is help me become one. It's your unwillingness to compromise that's come between us, so unless you have the means to pay my bills we have to break up.
The word-centric world you create each November lured me in, full of shiny promises. Full of witty words and turns of phrase. You smelled of hope and well-worn pages. Pages I hoped would be mine.
I do hope we can still be friends. I'll stop in from time to time and let you know how I'm doing. I'll hit that "Update" button and think of you fondly. Hopefully, you'll be supportive. Remember NaNo, it is better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all.
P.S. - I think I left my dignity at your place, and I'd like it back.
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