Dear British politics,
This isn't an easy thing for me to say; but I think we should see other people. I wish I could spin you the whole 'it's not you, it's me' line but, well, it's you. It's totally you. Don't get me wrong, we had a good run, but I just can't get hurt by you anymore.
Mainly it's your condescending nature. At first I thought your "I went to Oxbridge so I know best" shtick was endearing, almost cute. But you've made it clear recently that you don't know best. In fact, I'm starting to think that you actually know less than me. What once seemed like playful arrogance now comes across as nothing more than desperate, shameful patronising. Maybe you're just upset that you're getting old and out of touch? Just because you're losing your figure and your hair's greying doesn't mean you can take it out on me.
Do you remember years ago, when we were kids? We were playing catch on the field, and that spoilt little rich kid Monarchy kept stealing the ball, declaring himself the winner and telling us it was better this way? You strode in, took the ball back from him and made him sit in a corner. We thought you were a God amongst men that day. But then we tried to play again recently, and we couldn't. Because you'd brought your friends Big Business, Privilege and that flash kid from down the street, America. Suddenly we weren't allowed to join in our own game anymore. And it all became a lot less fun.
Look, I don't want you to think that we didn't have some good times. Of course we did. Remember when that creepy Adolf guy was picking on us and you beat him up? That was a great thing you did! But you're kind of turning into him now, and it's scaring me. All your rules around the house, spying on me 24/7, and taking money out of my wallet and spending it on ducks and moats or whatever. Not to mention unnecessarily picking on that Middle Eastern kid. I bet you don't even know his name.
It's like I don't even know who you are anymore. For a while, your habit of changing your personality ever five or so years was fun. Your posh, right-wing persona; your wussy liberal personality; and that crap faux-working class thing that you do occasionally. It kept things interesting. But now they all seem to be blending into one giant mass of annoying white noise. Why do you think only about 60% of your friends took part in your Facebook poll to decide which guy you should channel back in 2010? They all think the same as me. And those huge rants you keep going off on about how no-one's interested in making the effort to vote anymore? Well that's not the case. We're still interested; we're all just tired of you and the people you hang out with.
They're round the house ALL the time. That posh entitled kid David, or that posh entitled kid Ed, or that...well, you get the idea. Not to mention that ghastly racist Nick guy, who I hope just snuck in when no-one was looking and will be gone soon. It's these guys who were the last straw for us. All they do is sit there on our sofa, arguing amongst themselves and picking on poor people.
I once saw you as the sweetest, most fantastic guy in the world, one who cared and always put our relationship and my needs first. But you've fallen in with the wrong crowd, and now this guy I once knew and that we all fell in love with is gone.
There's still hope for you, but it involves making changes to yourself that I genuinely think are beyond you now. But hey, while I'm not holding out hope, miracles have happened before. Kick out your stupid friends, get a job, get off drugs etc, and maybe we'll talk. Until then I'm staying at my mother's, and our only interaction will be an occasional awkward smile if we pass each other on the street.
I do hope we can still be friends.
Love, the British Public.
P.S. I'll send for my things.
Follow Chris J. Barnes on Twitter: www.twitter.com/chris_barnes91