this too shall pass. muster.

Dear (Your Name Here),

As much fun as it has been getting to know you, you have turned out to be terminally flawed in one or more of the following ways: Horrific Insecurity/Lack of General Motivation/Inability to Master the Complicated Technology of the Telephone/Clinical Depression or Insanity/Drug or Alcohol Abuse/Cripplingly Low Functioning Libido/Etc.  It is not me, it is you. I will have moved on within the week, because hey, there is nothing wrong with me, unless you count momentary lapses in judgement. Do not worry, I will be just fine. And if you are worried, please do not call or write or email. Just get used to seeing me happy and fulfilled. And with someone else.

Bye, Darlin'

PS Can we be friends?