Dear Ben:

I never told you that even while we were together I kept gleefully imagining telling people, after we'd broken up, that I used to go out with a guy who was getting a Ph.D in Flemish cartography. I never told you your pure, shimmering nerdiness was the most powerful attraction to me. I never told you you have bad breath. I never told you I lied about having read Simon Schama. I never told you I loved the fact that you knew nothing about non-classical music and I used to toss off made-up names of bands I'd supposedly seen to see if you could tell the difference between real band names and fake ones. I never told you you have the thickest weenie I've ever seen.

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