Number 6 is probably the one person I hope I never have to talk to again…
To start off with the truth: I dislike you (hate, would be too much of a word), and hope that our paths never cross again!
It all started like most of my past romances, love affairs and one-night-stands; we saw each other in a bar, started talking and had a few drinks. The only difference was, you tried to set me up with your best friend who fancied me. However, I wasn’t interested in him.
I was interested in you.
That, I realise now, was a big mistake. I should have gone for the nice guy, not the bad boy.
The funny thing is, I didn’t even give you what you were after until later on. I stayed at your house twice and managed not to have sex with you. I wanted to wait because I thought I liked you and wanted to do it right that time.
Just that one time.
Without giving me any time to explain, you decided that it was better for us to be“just friends.” Now I know, you didn’t give a shit about me, or being friends, you only said that because you wanted to keep hanging out with my rather good looking friends. I agreed anyway.
The next time we saw each other, we all went on a night out. We met up in a skanky old pub. I wanted to proof to you, and myself, that I was able to be friends with you, that nothing had to be awkward between us. I didn’t want to be an outcast or excluded from certain plans just because I “didn’t deal well” with the rejection.
It all went downhill from there.
You were drunk, too drunk, and started flirting with my friend – in front of me. I confronted you, not in a rude way or in a telling-you-what-to-do kind of way, but I told you that it wasn’t very considerate of you. However, you were unimpressed, annoyed, pretended like I was a little child acting up, and flashed your middle finger at me.
Who was the child here?
I was upset, overreacted and left. I admit I was a bit dramatic that night. I just don’t cope well with people leaving me. And that’s how it felt, my friends wanted to spent time with you rather than me, stopped inviting me to their plans and invited you instead. They wouldn’t even tell you were hanging out.
We aren’t friends anymore.
The worst about that night was that I let you back in. My friend rung me, told me that you wanted to apologise to me about the way you behaved. As stupid and naïve I was, I picked you up in the middle of the night because you were too drunk to find my house. I left my house in pyjamas, walked down the road and found you stumbling over your own feet.
You said you were sorry, I believed you and accepted your apology. I don’t know why, but I let you stay over. I also don’t know why we slept together. I think it started with me wanting to cuddle. I take the blame for this one.
We had sex. Not even good sex, just drunk sex.
I went to work the next morning. You were gone when I got back. I haven’t seen you since, but whenever I used to bump into my so called “friend” she would tell me about you and what you were up to. I acted interested, but to be honest with you, I didn’t nor do I give a shit!
I still don’t know why I was so affected by you, it’s a mystery to me.
A mystery I don’t care to solve.
See you never,
The girl who is done with you.”