Dear Ms. Neighbor,
You were loud the other morning. I know it was the wee hours of Friday morning that you were loud, and here it is late Monday morning and somehow I'm still stewing about it, but you were really LOUD! It was a lovely evening, so we slept with our window open. It was a lovely evening, so you took your BORING, self-centered conversation outside, in the courtyard, where every noise bounces off every wall, and travels and amplifies and echoes. I KNOW. I heard every word. It was 3am, and I heard every word. About how he broke up with you, and how crushed you were although a keen listener could have been fooled since your voice was monotone and devoid of any emotion whatsoever. Your poor listeners were fairly quiet, only piping in once in a while to say a deep and low, "Uhuh."
I did my best to sleep through your dull conversation, and when that didn't work, I tried to listen, to be interested. When that proved impossible, I got angry and contemplated yelling out the window for you to "Get over it." I thought better of the yelling and realized that I lack all sense of charity and compassion when I am half asleep and tired. So instead I stewed. Until TC had the sense to get up and shut the window and turn on the AC. And then I slept and forgot all about you. Until this morning, when for some reason I'm in a fight against the world, irritated and walking around with my dukes up. So I decided that I'm still mad at you, hence this letter.
Next time he breaks up with you, please don't take your conversation to the echo-y courtyard. Talk indoors, with all doors and windows shut, so only those who are kind enough to give you an occasional "uhuh" have to listen.