Pluto, I am breaking up with you

We have had a long orbit around the sun, and it has been nothing but good times. This is it, though, this is the real thing. You are not a major planet anymore. You are a dwarf planet, or as you like to call yourself, a Kupier belt object. Whatever. Seriously, it is over, but I still want to be friends. It is better sooner rather than later. I have been seeing another planet anyway. It is Chiron, the one you told me to stay away from, because its orbit is unstable. I don't care, I want Chiron now and I don't want you because that is how I feel and I don't have to justify it to anyone. Not to you, not to anyone. You are a frozen world on the edge of darkness, and though I find it terribly sexy, it has its limitations. You reflect so much of the light that hits you. You are covered in frozen methane. Nobody has ever taken a decent photograph of you. You are mysterious, yes, but your are not a real planet. Chiron isn't either, but he is temporary, and when things get serious, I want it to be with an object that has a stable orbit that is coplanar with all the other planets in the solar system. I want harmony, not chaos, Pluto. Be jealous, Pluto, but there is Eris out there and I know you have been checking that one out. Enjoy your frozen orbit. Enjoy the death of the sun, when it comes. We are through, but I still want to be friends. I want to see that beautiful shadow of yours cross the orbit of Neptune and know that you are out there. I want to remember the mystery of your discovery and think that it was you that was planet X, and be grateful that I got to spend so much of my time with you. I want to remember your deep shadows and starry nights with feelings of nostalgia, and nothing else. Not regret, not bitterness, not sadness. Maybe a little sadness.