It's strange to have to talk to you about this. I mean, I know you know, right? I don't imagine you can't tell. It's obvious. I know it is. Maybe we've both been pretending for too long.
It's not fair to you to go on like this. I know you've probably heard this before, but it really is true. I'm not just saying it to say it. I'm actually sorry to have to say it to you, because I really think you're great.
I really mean it: it's not you, it's me.
Don't get mad. Please, don't. Just hear me out, okay?
I like you. Please don't think that I don't like you. You're great. You're clever and brave. You're smart and head-strong. You're great. It's just me. I'm not that into you. It's not your fault. It's nobody's fault.
It's not that I can't take an intense experience, but it seems like it's always intense with you. You're always a pawn in some game. You're always feeling the same anger and betrayal. It's just too much for me.
But really, in a few days you're going to be fine. I mean, people LOVE you. Listen, no, I'm not just saying that. People really love you. For some people you're their favorite book ever.
That's amazing. You should enjoy that. I mean, they're making a movie about you, and you're going to get to know even more people. You're really going to go far.
Just not with me.
And that's okay. I don't think it has to mean that it's my fault, or it's your fault. We were never a good match. No, I'm not bringing up Matched. Listen, it's not about Matched. Sure, I think it's great, and yeah, I've compared you two--- that wasn't fair. But seriously, you shouldn't even think about Matched, okay?