I'm terribly sorry it had to come to this, but it's time. I feel in the end we will both be better off, well I will at least. It's over and I don't know if I'll ever look back. Don't let it get you all upset inside, it was completely your fault, no doubt about it. It is your history of inconsistency that keeps me from being even remotely interested in continuing this relationship with you. I just can't count on you anymore.
You'd be much better off finding a person that can deal with your empty promises, your constant flirting with others, and your obsession with citrus zest. I might miss certain things about you, like that amazing Anthropologie wardrobe, but I just can't take it anymore.
I'm glad this is done and we're going in separate directions. There are so many others out there and I'm sure you'll find someone willing to put up with your annoying fake accent in order to catch a glimpse of that décolletage. I hope you'll be happy, I know I will be, now that I've found someone else.
By the way, you can actually generate a break up letter online if so inclined. How disgusting is that?
I baked up a batch of these Lemon Ricotta Cookies for IHCC this week. They looked and sounded good enough, and they would certainly help me in my quest to use up the lemons that created this giant mass of zest.
Something happened. I should have expected it, with the terrible track record G and I have, but I forged ahead anyway. These could possibly be the most boring cookies known to man. I ended up making a quick glaze with lemon extract and powdered sugar to up the flavor, because the cookies themselves are just eh. They aren't sweet. They don't taste like lemon. They have a strangely soft pillowy texture that just doesn't work for me. I don't get it. I don't know if I'm just choosing the wrong recipes, but I think it's time I throw in the towel.
I just have to post the final results of this little lemon experiment and I'm out. I tried.
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