Sorry to hear about you and Rachel, dude. So she was crazy, huh? Yeah, that sucks… I know exactly what you’re going through. No one has worse luck with crazy ex-girlfriends than I do. You know that one girl I met on Hinge last year? Britni? She turned out to be completely psychotic, but only after having her literal sanity destroyed by the mere sight of Cthulhu, The Great Dreamer and Sleeper of R’lyeh.

I mean, things are always great until your girl randomly gets named the sole heir and executor of her estranged late granduncle’s estate, then it’s all downhill from there. One day, while Britni was going through old papers and shit she found this diary, right? Soon she becomes obsessed with tracking down this faceless, tentacled priest god or whatever. Like straight up poring over mildewed books at 3 a.m. in the doomed pursuit of forbidden knowledge, like some kind of crazy bitch.

You probably went through the same kind of drama with Rachel, but Brit was all, “Connor, this is obviously important to me and I feel like you never validate my interests.” And I’m like, “Babe, we live on this placid island of ignorance amid black seas of infinity and, like… maybe we weren’t meant to voyage far?”

While I don’t really know the details, she ended up stopping the Great Old One from rising from its deathless slumber for the time being — which was chill — but also ultimately at the cost of her own sanity. All I know is that one day I came home from work to find that Britni had deliriously carved these runic symbols over and over again into the walls of my apartment, in a forgotten tongue I didn’t recognize yet could somehow read perfectly: Ph’nglui mglw’nafh Cthulhu R’lyeh wgah’nagl fhtagn.

What else could I say except “it’s over”? And “goodbye” to my goddamn security deposit?

Nothing says “this chick is looney tunes” like her trying to eat my roommate’s face and being forcibly confined to a state-run sanitarium for the violently insane. Talk about a huge red flag! The baffled doctors there called Britni’s condition a “horrid and medically inexplicable anomaly,” but I’m guessing it was that time of the month if you know what I’m saying!

Haha, just messing. It was absolutely because of the Cthulhu stuff.

Oh, word? Rachel got pissed when you forgot to pick her up from the bus station last month? Hmm, doesn’t seem that crazy to me. And going out for drinks after your improv class probably wasn’t important enough to justify leaving her stranded late at night in an unfamiliar neighborhood.

Whoa, chill. I am on your side. I just kind of see where she was coming from, that’s all. At least you offered to reimburse her for the $40 Uber she had to take – oh, you didn’t? Cool, cool.

Anyway, my last ex Allison was nuts too – remember her? Yeah, super-hot professor of anthropology, but ended up being certifiably batshit. She went to go study these hieroglyphics in the charnel, sepulchral depths of a mysterious mass burial site, and – surprise, surprise – I guess she ran into Cthulhu down there because she completely lost her shit: constant hysterical scream-laughter, plagued AF by nightmare visions, and always leaving strands of hair stuck to the walls in the shower.

Back to Rachel, though – sounds like your typical bunny boiler alright! That’s messed up that she kept accusing you of cheating when you never – wait, what? You did sleep with a co-worker at your company’s annual retreat? Yikes, what a massive betrayal. Oh, she really was paranoid, and you didn’t repeatedly give her chlamydia? I believe you, man… but some might say you’re just calling her crazy in an attempt to undermine her credibility by playing into misogynistic stereotypes instead of acknowledging that you, you know… routinely gaslit and shattered her emotionally throughout your relationship.

Anyway, gotta get going for my big date tonight – yeah, seeing someone new. She’s super chill, can hang with the guys, and most importantly, hasn’t yet become catatonic or subject to acts of lunacy at the revelation of humanity’s insignificance in the face of unimaginable horrors from the far reaches of an ancient universe. We’re checking out this low-key, subterranean grotto for what could either be a Beach House concert, or a ritualistic blood orgy. Hopefully, she’ll raise my Great Old One later, if you know what I’m saying! I mean my dick, haha. Later, bro!