An Open Letter to Adam Levine

An Open Letter to Adam Levine

Dear Adam,

I’ve admired you from afar since you found it “Harder to Breathe” while you were writing Songs About Jane. I stood by you even when you said something that was taken out of context and dubbed unpatriotic on The Voice. I’ve watched you go through model after model, and I’ve still held an unwavering love for you, because I know that as a rock star, it’s your duty to engage in a lot of noncommittal sex with a lot of young, beautiful women. I understood that you were never really going to settle down. You gave hope to all the semi-slutty girls in America who, due to less than perfect pasts, thought they would never be marriage material. You also gave us something great to masturbate to look at whenever you released a new music video or did a photo shoot. So, thank you for that.

Recently, you’ve killed all of my hopes and dreams by getting engaged to 24-year-old Victoria’s Secret Angel Behati Prinsloo, who I’m assuming will be Behati Levine in a matter of time.

Fuck you for ruining my life, Mr. Levine.

I always counted on you to be the lovable, sort of bad boy with tattoos my mother would never approve of and a “fuck you” attitude any father would hate. You’re literally the hottest man on the planet, and you’re Jewish, to boot. You’re fucking perfect. At least you were, until you decided to stop being a womanizer and settle down with a supermodel.

Adam, I’m worried. Are you afraid you’ve reached your peak and will need to lock down a hot, younger girl before your looks decline? Is that why you’ve decided to put a ring on it? If this is the case, let me assure you that your perfectly sculpted facial features will withstand the test of time. I had always had you pegged as the next George Clooney (after George Clooney becomes the next Hugh Hefner, presumably).

Are you worried that you will be unable to father some good-looking offspring? Have you decided to get married to ensure an heir to your throne of hotness? If this is your concern, I’m able to guarantee you could have fathered lots of different children with lots of different mothers, and people would still love you for it. You could have pulled a Colin Farrell, knocked up a rando, gotten a son out of it, and called it a day. Adam, don’t you get it? One of the world’s most cruel injustices is that men can father as many children as they please without getting any fatter or uglier, while women put themselves in solitary confinement with limited access to food and unlimited access to an elliptical postpartum. You have no reason to settle down if you’re pining for a child. I don’t think it would be too difficult to get some model pregnant, subsequently ruining her career for the sake of your own selfish needs.

I’m beyond upset that you’ve decided to settle down, because it’s caused me to question my own viability in the marriage realm. Will I, too, someday decide to stop having fun and living my life, opting instead to stay in, have “date nights!” and have sex with the same person for an extended period of time? Will I absolve to use words like “ours” and “we,” instead of pining for the hotter, better version of whatever I’ve got in front of me? Wait. Am I even marriage material?

You can have any girl in the world, and you’ve opted for some semi-unknown girl from Namibia (where the fuck is that on a map, by the way?) who is 10 YEARS YOUNGER THAN YOU. Do you know what you’ve done!? You’ve successfully given me a complex. By the time I’m actually ready to settle down and start my life as a stay-at-home lawyer’s wife, I’ll be too old to do so. Is this the case?! Should I already be engaged and planning to wed?

I can only find comfort in the fact that you’ll probably get bored with the monotony of a monogamous relationship after some time and find yourself in the middle of some chic as fuck, high profile divorce case. Maybe you’ll even find a mistress to help act as a catalyst for your self-imploding marriage, which I would never condone, unless, by chance, that mistress were me.

Adam, I hope you realize that by settling down, you’ve only made it worse for the girls who once find themselves unable to tie down the “unattainable” hot guy who doesn’t “do” relationships or commitment. Most girls assumed that guys of your caliber of hotness and indifference were completely opposed to relationships, altogether. We assumed guys like you had resigned themselves, instead, to engaging in plenty of shameful friends with benefits scenarios. Girls found solace in knowing they weren’t the problem, it was your fear of commitment coupled with your ability to have sex with any girl on the planet.

Now that you’ve decided to become a one-woman man, I’m worried other notorious Hollywood playboys will follow suit. Will George Clooney get married? Will James Franco stop smoking weed and get involved in a serious relationship? Will Shia LaBeouf stop being such a douchebag? Will I get the chance to blackmail Prince Harry into loving me before it’s too late? So many variables here, and I can’t cope with the probable answers.

Since you’ve decided to ruin the marital aspirations of every girl who settled for a stable, average-looking boyfriend because she assumed that incredibly hot, perfect guys were not marriage material,, I’ll be spending the rest of the week mourning my hopes and dreams, downing bottles of wine, and tearing through a pack of AAA batteries while watching Maroon 5’s VEVO channel.

I hope you’re fucking happy.

Oh, and congrats, or something.

I still love you,
Pearls xo


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