Dear Jen,
Congratulations! We're all so pleased for you. Finally, you can be happy. Wonderful and gallant Thingymebob has taken up the mantle of putting a ring on it. ('It' is you, by the way, you are 'it'.) Lovely Thingymebob, he finally succumbed to all the pressure and begrudgingly agreed to marry a beautiful Hollywood star. You've worn him down and now you're MRS Thingymebob! I'm sure he knew you in the beforetime, and pined after Rachel From Friends because you were so beautiful and you had the best hair there's ever been. That was before he actually started dating you though, and as soon as you started dating, for reasons we've all assumed even though it makes no sense, he didn't want to settle down. This must have been the case because he is male and you are female and you are so old and sad and desperate. Thingymebob, on the other hand, needed to be 'tamed'. You tamed him! Yay!
You were so sad before, weren't you? I wonder if you lunged for every bouquet ever chucked. It's the bouquet catches that sting the most, I know. You had too much prosecco and it seemed so LOLZ. Maybe you used underhand tactics for some of them, just to get your hands on that bouquet. Maybe you winded somebody in the fray. Figures. It's just so you don't have to be so passive, I know. It's just so women in toilets don't take your hand and look you in the eye and say: "it will happen for you, Jen. Thingymebob will do it soon, despite how gross you are." They were right, those women in toilets, weren't they? What did we tell you?! You clung onto Thingymebob with a tight grip, always had your maniacal eyes on the prize. You seemed happy with your millions of dollars and your combined beauty and your being in love, but you weren't happy, were you? You needed The Ring. Us gals are basically demented Gollums, deep down.
You're so lucky Jen, Thingymebob really is a keeper. I mean he's given up his bachelorhood! Ask any man, their single lives are mostly spent on yachts or in the Playboy mansion, surrounded by a warren of playmates. Unlike you, Thingymebob didn't have the blinkered pursuit of marriage. We're just different, us girls, we lose our minds over cupcakes and centrepieces. We don't fear commitment or mourn our tragic single lives. The most important thing is that someone marries you, so really any man would do. Even Celebrity Love Rat John Mayer™ would've done, a man who describes his penis as a 'white supremacist', and women as 'sexual napalm'. But you weren't sexual napalm, were you Jen? You weren't good enough to tame Celebrity Love Rat John Mayer™.
But now you have Thingymebob! Keep hold of this one. Men just become so distinguished as they age, and you're not getting any younger... We all really hope you'll have a baby soon, and then you'll be content. I'm sure that's all you've ever wanted, just to finally be a complete person.
With best wishes,
Clare xx