Dear stranger in my house,
When we first started dating, I loved the way you smiled at me. But now it seems as if I must have been drunk.
Since we always promised to be honest with each other, I feel I should tell you those pants did make your butt look big. And because I would never want to be seen in public with you, I think it's best that we pretend that this never happened.
I just hope that you will never hear about what happened with your roommate. Please know that I will always duck and run away when I see you in the grocery store.
With fear, remorse, and sobriety,
I never told you my real name....so why start now?