Dear annoying, churro-chomping, idoita, bastard,

If you are reading this, it means you got off your lazy ass to go get the mail. It also means I'm still mad and still in Italy with my brother. Anyways, since I detest you so much, I decided to make a list of things that I hate about you.

You are a complete idiota. Seriously, you scream every time toast pops out of the toaster. Also, when I say, 'I'm so hungry I could eat a horse' doesn't actually mean I want to eat one.

I hate the way you drive. Jesus Christ, you drive slower then two gay turtles fucking! Pick up the pace!

How is it possible that you are slower then a snail at driving, but you suddenly go 80 miles an hour when we bike over the Golden Bridge?

I hate it when you try to make me feel better when I cry. It's fucking annoying. I also hate it when you make me spicy hot chocolate that burns my tongue, and put a fuzzy blanket on me and cuddle by the warm fire and- I mean, you make me feel fucking pathetic. Stop it.

I hate the dumb pirate stuff you keep around your house all the time. It's kinda cool, but still fucking disgusting. Who cares if your great, great, great (or whatever) grandfather lead the Spanish Armada? I sure don't.

Goddamn, I fucking hate your fucking friends! They're almost as annoying and stupid as you! That fucking German, or Prussian, I don't really care, is the most narcissistic, bastard in the world. Don't even get me start with the Francis either. Fucking asshole tries to fuck whatever moves. He touched my balls once. On 'accident', but I don't believe that shit for a second. He's gayer then us, and that's saying a lot. Also, he smells like cheese.

You keep pulling my curl when I'm in bed with you. I really hate how that somehow makes me cum faster then anything else. I also hate that you know that. Fuck, how did you discover that anyways?

Why is it that when ever Feliciano is around, you two are somehow fucking best friends? I know that he's a better cook than me, and he could paint fucking Mona Lisa if he wanted to, and doesn't have a shit personality like I do, but still. He has a boyfriend and so do you.

I hate that your food tastes so good. Dammit, if you didn't like tomatoes as much as me, I would have dumped your ass a long time ago.

I hate that you don't get drunk! Really, Antonio? How many glasses of wine do I have to give you so I could take care of you for once? Or maybe enough just so you don't have that stupid shit-eating grin on your face all the time.

I hate it when you make me laugh. Your jokes are stupid and so is your face.

I hate it that when ever I'm gone, your always hanging out with Bel at my own flower shop all the time. It's fucking annoying. But I will admit, she makes good waffles and is pretty nice too...

I hate it when you think I have fucking anger issues or jealousy problems. Because I don't, you little prick.

I'm fucking 24, you don't have to baby me when I'm sick.

Do you have any idea how dangerous running with fucking bulls are? I don't care how experienced you are, you give me a heart attack every time you do that in Spain.

Stop telling me to stop fucking swear, you asshole.

I hate it when you don't yell at me when I'm mad at you. Why can't we just fight like a normal couple?

I hate it when you kiss my ear. It tickles and I can't hold a straight face or get mad at you.

Don't even get me started when you place hickeys all over my neck! I can't go to work like that! You know all the stares I get working at my little shop?

Also, stop fucking messaging me. It's been three days since this was sent. I have 24 emails, 34 missed and ignored calls and 99 text messages. Get a hint.

And for the fucking love of God, I do not look like a fucking tomato! I mean, how is that humanly possible? If you're calling me fat, I will hunt you down and kill you.

You fucking proposed to me. What kind of idiot are you? This is probably the worst decision you made, and will ever make in your life. Do you really want to be with someone with the shittiest personality ever? Someone that would flee back to their home country because I'm a coward and have no idea what to do or say? I left you, get that through your skull. Do you still want me? I don't deserve you at all.

Fuck it, I don't even know what I'm saying anymore, but it doesn't even matter, does it? I fucking love you. Yes, you idiot, yes. I'll marry you. I will never find anyone who could put up with me, make me laugh as hard as you do, or even make me the best fucking Spanish dishes ever (I thought I didn't even like that crap either).

Anyways, you're still in San Francisco I assume, and if you haven't figured out yet, thats a problem. In the back of this letter, you will find a plane ticket to Italy. Don't worry about the price or whatever like you usually do (I may be in debt, but I'm not that poor!), but I want to see your ass in Rome so I can kiss you all night. You better hurry up, you bastardo! I'm fucking waiting for you.

Ti amo,

Lovino Vargas

PS. Tell Bel we're gonna be gone for a week or too. I'm sure she could handle Bella Fiore by herself. Tell her to take care of the cat too.
Also, I asked her to deliver a special bouquet just for you. I arranged it before I left. It has red carnations. Your favourite, so you better fucking like it.