Honestly. When I first saw you, I wasn't just uninterested—I was annoyed.

My girlfriend brought you along, saying you were her best friend. I expected you to be pretty, but not at all.

Your clothes were the worst, your glasses were thick, you always walked with your head down, and your hair was always in that tacky, tight ponytail.

You were the literal personification of a loser.

So I ignored you. I was honestly baffled that someone like you could even be friends with my girlfriend.

I openly insulted your looks, mocked you by asking if you'd ever even dated, and looked down on you, saying I wouldn't feel a thing even if I kissed you.

...Then one day, I made a mistake. It was the alcohol.

When I found you sleeping in my bed the next morning, I seriously felt like jumping out the window.

But the real problem is...

Fuck, the more I think about it, the better it was. Since that day, I've been going crazy every time I see you.

So now, I'm contacting that loser constantly. I text, I call, and I even show up at your house.

Saying you liked it that day too, didn't you?

Oh, but I have no intention of breaking up with my girlfriend. I'm sure there's a way to have both.