I'm sure you're thinking this is a Dear John letter, if you are, you are right. I have something to say, house, and it seems you no longer hear me when I tell it to your face. So I hope this letter finds you more understanding and willing to negotiate.
House, I used to kind of think you were charming. When we first met, I laughed that you had urinals in one of your bathrooms. I smirked when doing laundry as it is necessary for me to turn it to "cold" if I'd like "hot" water and vice versa. I chuckled when I went to my sacred shower and instead of pure, clean water to wash my long locks with, you gave me chlorinated pool water (without the urine, thanks very much).
I looked on admirably as you let every rodent, crawly thing and disgusting smell come through your doors. No matter how many I killed, you continued to be a place of refuge for the smallest of God's creatures. I even forgave you for the most unsightly florescent lights I've seen since elementary school.
But I'm done with you, house. It's hard to even write that as I've always considered myself to be a person who loves people and things for who they are, irregardless of the "flaws" they might contain. But that is no longer true for you. I no longer think you're charming and I'm not sure the last time I smiled at anything dealing with you. (Keep in mind I am only referring to your "top half", I have no bones to pick with your "bottom half".) Tonight, Trysten found both a dead mouse (inside you) and a cat (outside next to you). Why do you do these things to me?
Today Zach had a meeting to talk with the professionals about what to do with you. He is pulling to get you fixed up right. It seems everyone else is pulling to keep you just as you are but Zach and I make quite the persuasive team. This will not be a long fight for you, house, and you will not win.
Alas, even though you house all things creepy and crawly you also house the 3 other people who are most important to me in this world. You keep us warm and sheltered from this Iowa winter and I am thankful for that. I can't hate you with a hot, hot, hatred because of that fact alone. But I am Dear Johning you and I hope you realize how serious I am about things.
With no love,