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Dear Duane: I am breaking up with you. You have hurt me for the last time. You have cracked open my rib cage, ripped out my heart like a ninja assassinating an evil overlord, and squish squash! You stomped on it until it screamed a terrified bunny scream and mercifully died, no longer to hurt from your abuse. Thou art a cur and a scoundrel, and I refuse to play Lydia to your Wickham any longer! From now on, I am a rock. I am an island. I am no longer a doormat, a servant, or a punching bag. I long for the crackling sizzle your darkened remains will produce as you burn in hell for all eternity. Love, Marcia