This is nuts.
I think I see what’s going on. Maybe it’s a social media ploy or some sort of gimmick to generate publicity for you and You Know Who, but it always happens when I write something here about you. Or like your friends’ pictures. Or take back a comment I thought might have offended you rather than flatter you.
I don’t know if you’re married, engaged, dating, single, or what, and I think that’s because you’re being careful, and guarded, and because you think I am some kind of ‘player’ who chases women for a living and has a girl in every port, and because I’ve expressed interest in you, and follow “all of those girls…” (never mind that they’re tennis players, and most of whom I THINK are friends of yours–can’t you see the connection????). And because of this, you need to investigate. And you don’t know if I’m a ‘player’ or ‘fuckb*y’ or dweeb or what because I get all defensive and pretend I’m not hurt and want lots of friends too when you go gaga over some hunk. When your biggest, most devoted, lovestruck fan gets his heart ripped out. So we’re all Tom Crowne on each other, “Harry”…
It reminds me of that episode of Cheers where Sam and Diane finally get engaged and she lets him have a bachelor party in exchange for her own opportunity to sew one last oat, and unbeknownst to each other, rather than have that one last fling, they spend the whole night trying to keep a watch on each other from their cars.
Can’t you see by now that I’m crazy in love with you? Yes, you are attractive, but in SEVEN YEARS I have learned a lot about you, (as you have about me, I’m sure) and become curious and infatuated with you as a *person*. As a woman. I’d hope that you’d see that. That’s the reason, if you’re curious. If you and your friends are really, genuinely puzzled and upset. You’re the reason, silly. Cuz I’m impatient and more than three seconds without something from you is two seconds more than I can bear. That’s the influence, pardon the pun, of this social media cr@p, which I can’t stand. God as my witness, I want to meet you. Be with you. Only you. At least until I find out you eat babies or something.
Reading that makes me think maybe I’m ready for the looney bin…
Of course if this is wrong and you and E_B_ and A_L and J_K_ and all the rest want to laugh your asses off at me, fine, I guess, but if so I will never ever resurface, because that’s the other part of it, if you’ve really been reading–I am shy, and awkward, and anxious, and self conscious and sensitive and take things really personally and if this is a joke at my expense, I won’t recover from it. So, if that’s your game, then we are at a crossroads and an end, and so if I don’t ‘see’ you again, no hard feelings, no matter what.
I hope it’s not the case. I hope you and your feelings are genuine, and if so, that you can find a way to let me know.
Because I do love you. More than you could know. I’ve been in love with you since the moment I laid eyes on you. Only now, there’s all sorts of reasons to be in love with you, not just that pretty exterior.