Frank, in his 30’s, is attending the wedding reception for his ex-girlfriend, Jennifer, and is asked to give a toast to the happy couple.  

Frank:

I have no idea where to start.  I’m not even sure why I was invited to be here.  Have you ever read any of Anna Ahkmatova’s poetry?  Anyone?  Well, she describes bitterness in her poems that better articulates my feelings for Jennifer than anything I could ever come up with.  In “The Last Toast” she wrote, “I drink to the house, already destroyed, And my whole life, too awful to tell, To the loneliness we together enjoyed, I drink to you as well, To the eyes with deadly cold imbued, To the lips that betrayed me with a lie, To the world for being cruel and rude, To God who didn’t save us, or try.”  That’s what I think about when I think of you dear.  Anna’s poems remind me of the kind I wrote during the demise of our relationship, and after you left me.  I remember how you’re lips betrayed me.  “I promise I’m not interested in him.”  Yet you slept with him mere hours after you broke my heart, on New Years Eve.  I gave you all my love, everything, but you wore me down to nothing.  So you know what?  Nothing’s all I have for you.  That night, New Years Eve, I drove three hours to get home with a pain in my chest, only to walk through the door and see his semen on yours.  And then you didn’t call me when the towers fell, even though you knew I was living in New York.  I didn’t expect you to, exactly but then you sent me a wedding invitation and I just couldn’t believe.  I’ve seen you’re definition of love and there’s nothing much I have left to say besides I’ve moved on and only remember you when I smell eucalyptus at night.  But most of the memories, my memories of you and I, make me nauseous.  Anyway, I just want to wish you the worst.  The fact that you have no talent and are completely unable to love ensures that you will never have the satisfaction of fulfillment.  So, here’s to never seeing each other again.