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My Dearest Wordle,
It’s been an amazing three years and I’m sorry to have to do this, but I think our relationship has run its course.
The fireworks in the beginning were explosive. I couldn’t get enough of you. Like a besotted word nerd, I looked forward to our daily dates on the subway, at Starbucks, in the loo, and in bed at night. You are wonderful. Smart, funny, entertaining – even educational. You should know you did nothing wrong. It’s not you, it’s me. I have the attention span of a Gen Z-er mindlessly scrolling through TikTok. And when Spelling Bee and Sudoku winked at me, how could I resist?
This letter may not come as a surprise. I’m sure you’ve noticed our skipped lunch dates and lapsed streaks these last few weeks. I even tried playing your “hard” version hoping it would revive my waning passion, but I’m afraid I found it more annoying than arousing.
I’m sure you’ve noticed our skipped lunch dates and lapsed streaks these last few weeks.
When our meetings dwindled from daily to once a week, then down to once a month, and then to nothing, I knew our love affair was over. And no, it had nothing to do with my husband. He and I have an open relationship. He spends way more time with the New York Times Crossword than with me and will happily while away a lazy Saturday afternoon just staring into those big beautiful squares. My trysts with you, however, only average about three minutes. And while this is absolutely not the reason we’re over – I appreciate quality over quantity – I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t longing for more.
You must also remember we agreed to keep things casual. You are loved by millions yet I never let jealousy get the better of me. Being greeted every morning to my friends bragging about their time with you, posting their winning scores on Facebook and gushing all over you until I wanted to gag wasn’t easy, but I hung in there.
I stuck by you through thick and thin, even when you sold out to that mercenary behemoth of a newspaper that didn’t keep track of our scores just to rope us into buying a subscription. I get it. You were number one and that stuff goes to your head. And who couldn’t use the money? Sure, I was heartbroken over the betrayal and felt manipulated when I caved and bought a subscription to keep our relationship alive, but I forgave you anyway. I would’ve done anything for you. You were my drug of choice. I craved you more than Scrabble, and you know how I feel about Scrabble.
I craved you more than Scrabble, and you know how I feel about Scrabble.
I’m sure you’ll have no problem finding someone else. Everyone loves you. And let’s face it, most long relationships fizzle eventually. C’est la vie. But I have absolutely no regrets. I’ve learned a lot from our time together – like every five-letter word in the English language, or how to use “rainy” and “house” as starting words so you have all the vowels. And I’ll never forget our good times. Getting your answer in two tries (one doesn’t count, it’s just luck), beating my friends and making them as jealous as a gang of mean girls crushing on a hot quarterback with a perfect LSAT score, was one of the best feelings in the world. I’ll cherish it forever.
I wish you the best of luck and hope we can still be friends. An occasional breakfast or lunch would be nice. You should meet Spelling Bee and Sudoku sometime. They’re a lot of fun, and they last a lot longer.
