"I wish you were as romantic with me as you are about your final year of High School!"

"

Honey, sit down for a second. Yes, I know you're putting the final touches on the invites to your school reunion dinner, but just put it down for a second. I have something to say. Now, you know that I'm a woman. I have needs. Sometimes I like to be given flowers. Or chocolates. Or serenaded underneath my bedroom window by the man I love. Which is you...I guess.

Do you understand what I'm saying? No, stop looking through those Year 12 photos for one second. See, this is exactly what I'm talking about. I wish you'd be romantic with me. You know, the same way you're romantic about your last year at high school. I mean, you weren't even that popular and it wasn't like you did particularly well, marks-wise. Yes, that is the truth darl.

Look, it comes down to this. While you're over there watching the amateur video of your school production of Guys and Dolls, I'm sitting here thinking about all the men - aside from you - that have made me feel pleasure. The ones that made me feel attractive and loved. Do you remember what that was like? Do you...excuse me? Hello? Am I invisible over here? Oh, right, I see. You're too busy playing the online mini golf game that you played all through VCE to keep your mind off studying - which, by the way, might explain your marks!

Right. Well, if you're not going to even listen to me, maybe you don't need to know that I've been cheating on you. Oh, you heard that, didn't you? Yes. With a man who can wine and dine me. He knows the difference between romance and romanticising. And you don't, baby. So, yeah, I'm leaving you. Come on, don't do that. What are you crying about? Oh. My tone of voice just now reminds you of your old English teacher? Right. Goodbye, Thom.

"