You and I have known each other for some time now. Nine months, to be exact. Long enough, at least, that I think it’s reasonable that I be frank with you.
To be fair, there isn’t much to say. I have no ill will or hard feelings against you. I understand why you purchased me, and I understand why I’ve been here for so long. I admire your desire to protect yourself from STIs and pregnancy the next time you have sex.
That, however, is where we come to what I want, no, what I need you to understand.
It’s okay. It’s okay to accept that you will never need me. I accepted that long ago, and I hope that you can, in time, do the same. You can throw me out. Actually, please do—I expired last month. Please put me out of my misery.
I wish you all the best in your future endeavors, sexual and otherwise, as long as they don’t involve me.
The Unused Condom in Your Purse
P.S. You really need to throw out all the useless receipts that are all crumpled up in your purse! It’s not a trash bin, you can do better than this.