Hey you. Yeah, you, I was talking to you.
I find it a little sad that it’s necessary for me to break up with you, because we aren’t even dating. And we never will date.
You’ve been stalking me for I can’t even remember how long. I can’t help it that I attract creepy boys like you, but your cute crush on me has turned into a creepy obsession. Why do you not understand that I don’t like you? I know I’m cute and charming and pretty smart, but I’m really not interested. I can’t say, “It’s not you, it’s me” because really, it is you. You’re not the brand I want to buy. I’m sorry, but really, you can’t be mad, because, like I said, we’re not even dating.
It’s not that you started out creepy. In fact, you seemed cute at first, like a catch. But I’m a girl that really goes for personality, so I’m sorry that yours sucks.
It seems like even the greatness of the Atlantic Ocean can’t stop you. You were an attractive Italian boy who carried my suitcases for me and drove me up and down the cobblestone roads of the little village in the mountains. It was cute that you spoke Italian and I spoke English, and at first, not understanding each other was fun. Until you got that creepy look in your eye and I realized that I wasn’t interested in a summer fling. You chased me up a mountain. I ran through dark alleys trying to hide from you, and you still pursued me further. You yelled at me in public like I was a cheating girlfriend, and you gave me a really desperate, half-crazy, crooked smile. On my last night in Italy, I was forced to say goodbye to you (you’re lucky our families are friends) and you tried to make out with me. Really, bud, I was going for a hug. You creeped me out. To make it worse, it’s been almost a year, and you continuously Facebook message me. At least twice a day. I even tried blocking you, but my roommate thought it would be funny to re-add you. But, alas, enough is enough. Get over me, please. For your sake and mine. I can’t study abroad in Italy knowing that you’re in the same country.
And you, even the army isn’t strong enough to get you away from me… literally. You’re two years younger than me, and I looked at you like a little brother, so when I responded to your texts, it was in a sisterly, friendly way. Never romantic. You’ve been texting me ever since lifeguarding ended after summer. I give you one-word answers. You don’t even double text me, but rather send six or seven in a row. If I respond “K” I’m clearly not interested. You seemed to misunderstand my pretty obvious un-interest. I haven’t responded to a text in months, so you decided to Facebook message me, telling me that your training is starting. You’re going to be in Virginia, a distance I don’t think is nearly far away enough. You told me that you want to write letters to me every day, and that you hoped I would write back, since I would like letters more than texting (since I text you so much). Do you think you’re Ryan Gosling? I’m breaking up with you, okay? Because you are going into the army, and I am not interested in you. Sorry if this is harsh, but it needed to be said.
Well, I got that off my chest. You can hate me if you want. I’d much prefer that to the stalking, thank you very much. Please don’t text me, Facebook me, or write me letters. I guess that ends my break up letter, even though we weren’t ever dating.
Have a nice life.
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