Monday, June 25, 2012

A short letter to the guy that I wish I had NOT given my number to

Dear Neighbor,
    I completely regret giving you my phone number.  It was a moment of weakness....and in hindsight, stupidity on my part in assuming that this could turn into a friendship instead of the awkward state of epic awkwardness that it has become.
   I don't care that you had a dream about me.  I definitely don't care if you feel guilty about this dream.  But, don't call me at the crack of dawn on a Sunday morning and "confess" this to me thinking that this would be a valid seduction technique.  It isn't.  And it has also had the exact opposite effect that you wanted.
   Seeing that your apartment building is less than 20 feet away from my home, you can easily see when I am or am not home.  You can also see that when the lights are off at my house, that I am most likely in bed.  So don't call me when you know that I am out helping my brother move into my house and then get annoyed that I am not answering....especially after I TOLD YOU that I would not be available to talk. Also, don't send me text messages after midnight asking me if I am "buzy".  Yes, I am.  I'm fricking sleeping.
    You don't love me.  You hardly know me.  What you see is a round white girl that can seem to take care of herself...and possibly you as well.  That will not happen.
    Also, you seem to believe that if I would just come over to your house and watch a movie with you....and of course, let you kiss me....that I would suddenly fall madly in love with you.  Even though I enjoy them very much....life is not a Walt Disney fairy tale.  A kiss does NOT make someone fall magically in love with someone else.  It may make them lust after a person, but not love.  Also, I am NOT a princess.  If I am anything, I am a Queen.  Therefore, I am NOT looking for a prince to sweep me off of my feet and carry me away into the sunset.  I am looking for a King- an equal, who will rule by my side.
    I know you're trying to roll with your A-game here.  It's not working.  You aren't going to get into my house, my pants, or my heart.
me

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