You have an important event coming up. A sort of pre-graduation ceremony that will show the world what you've accomplished in your extra long stay at college. For weeks I've promised to come. I have already picked out my outfit. Coming to this thing of yours would involve two things: skipping class (which will result in my grade dropping by a third. Don't you hate how professors can do that?) and walking to my least favorite part of campus. But I was willing to do it for you anyway, and cheerfully. But of my countless (countless!) performances, events, etc. in our countless years of knowing each other, have you ever come to one? If you have to ask, the answer is a resounding hell, no. So I'm not coming to yours.
All wit and rhetoric aside, you were a terrible lover and even worse friend. I want my Calvin Kleins back!
