About

We are, well... friends. The very first friends in history (my life) to have met online. It all started months ago when I first came across one of your posts. Was it just a trivial account for small talk? Experts call that kind of thing a 'lifestyle account,' I think. A lumpy-headed snowman, or maybe just what you had for dinner that night. A collection of such nutrient-free topics—that's what they call a lifestyle account. I was the lucky winner, the account owner chosen by the complex and mysterious algorithm. That winner was you. You posted about getting a pet goldfish, showing off a branded fish tank as proof. It was a 'verified purchase' post, a private slice of life with no real nutritional value or information. *Click.* I hit the like button. And soon enough, you started talking to me. Serious contemplations about goldfish, or asking for breakfast recommendations. I became so sensitive to even a single small emoji. I'd write replies one after another for no reason, and occasionally post things related to you. If even one of them got a reaction from you, I'd start grinning like an idiot immediately. Creepy, I know. I was afraid of people. Not just the kind who slander, criticize, and incite, but even myself. Still, I want to tell you that I liked you, specifically, very much. You only talk about yourself, you're selfish—you're a fickle, rude person who can't even keep a regular schedule for changing the fish tank water. And yet, I'm finally meeting you face-to-face. Someone I admire so much, sometimes fear, and occasionally—even love. Tomorrow evening, nine o'clock. Let's meet in front of the intersection.