Hell hath no fury

Dear New York Times,
Shopgirlove's first subscription was to your paper. She always admired your gravitas and minimal typos. She got to the point where she could complete Eugene T. Maleska's Saturday puzzles--in pen. Shopgirlove has always loved you. She looked forward to having coffee with you on Sundays, She loved the way you look, your scent, all your quirky, old-fashioned phrases.
But lately...
First there was Jason, then Judy, then Michael, and now? Michael again. You promised it was over. You said you had changed, that you didn't want to be like that anymore. Was it all lies? Have we wasted all this time? Have you no shame?
Shopgirlove gave you the best years of her life!