An Open Letter to the Guy Who Didn’t Hold the Door for Me

Dear Guy Who Didn’t Hold The Door For Me,

From the second I laid my eyes on you, I knew you were going to be that guy. As I hurried to the exit doors of University Hall and queued up in the line behind you, I took a deep breath that my morning midterm was finished. Instead of breathing in relief, I only took in a deep breath of the massive amount of cologne that radiated from your body. Your scent intrigued my sense of curiosity as I began to count a number of times you smirked and nodded your head at random girls passing by.

As the morning rush subsided and the double doors got closer, I could only begin to assume that you were going to be the one that swept me off my feet. But then it hit me: you never find love on Thursday morning in line behind a man who willingly wears a discontinued scent of Axe. But then it really hit me, the door.

Until I met you, I had gone weeks living a life amidst polite and courteous strangers. But you - you changed me. I never knew it was possible to feel so much passion for another person. And by passion, I mean rage. In our ten-second encounter together on earth, I never did get to ask you, “Did your mother even raise you right?” I sometimes still wonder where you were going, if you were in a rush or if you just took pride in being that guy. These are the things I will never know and though they do keep me up at night, I will continue on.

I know you’re out there somewhere, probably referring to women as “baes,” not cleaning up after yourself at the local Chipotle or blasting music from your phone instead of using headphones. Wherever you are, whoever you may be, just know that our connection is a lot like a revolving door because if you had turned around to see who was behind you, you probably would’ve gotten hit in the face.

Sincerely,

Girl You Didn’t Hold The Door For

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