Oh, dear f*ck boy.

How did you know? You could not possibly have appeared in my life at a better time. I got a new job today and I am positively bursting at the seams, waiting to be undone. This is the first semester I've felt truly prepared and excited to go back to class since fall of freshman year. However, there is nothing more that I could ever want than your greasy a** sliding into the DMs, as the kids say.

I remember the spring fondly. We met up for iced chai tea lattes and ended up making out back at your place. True perfection. Oh! But my favorite part was when you stopped talking to me as soon as I walked out of your door. Whatever, no great loss. You were simply another lover scorned considering I laughed at you for that stupid move you pulled. Did you think we were high schoolers? What's the term? Durfing? Ridiculous. I didn't hear from you for a few months. Really, it was better that way. You have your shitty music and I have much better things to fill my time with.

Here you are again, though. Proclaiming that I am "hotter than [you] remember." Gee, thanks, mister! You sure know how to flatter a girl. I'll give you the benefit of a doubt. Let's try this 'friends' business again. This is the prime time for networking, right? We talked for a day. That's it. One day. Then it was right back to ignoring me. Here I am thinking that if you had any decency you would at the very least give my number to your friend and have them tell me you were dead.

But alas, what light through yonder cell phone breaks? 'Tis a text, and indeed, it is someone's son. Someone who should be quite ashamed, by the way.

What possessed you to finally break the silence? "I don't know ... haha." Wow, so eloquently put. I am at a loss for words. "Okay then I'll be honest I'm not really looking for a friend I'm looking for someone to fuck me.” There we have it, folks. An age-old story of a dumb a** having his foot so far in his mouth that he could not take the time to tell me he needed to go to the hospital for an oral-pedectomy. Mmm, yeah, nothing gets me going quite like being ignored. Please, take me now! Or not.

Oh, dear f*ck boy.

It seems that you may be used to getting what you want. Did things not go according to plan? Are you now backpedaling so hard that your muscles will be sore for days? I wouldn't say I have pity. My feelings lie somewhere between contempt and amusement. So don't be sorry for being horny. Be sorry for being a piece of sh*t.