Jeff: I can tell you feel the same
dar: do you still talk to her?
Jeff: no…I actu­ally specif­i­cally told her not to talk to me again
Jeff: cause of some creepy stalker shit she was doing
dar: hahaha
Jeff: and she still e-mails me
dar: damn..
dar: she’s going to kill you in the dark
Jeff: haha­ha­ha­ha­ha­ha­hah­ha­ha­haaaahh
dar: she prob. knows where u live
dar: and watches you

In uni­ver­sity I met Mike, half-heartedly doing his biol­ogy home­work in my cryp­tol­ogy class to hang out with his old high-school friend, the lat­ter of whom was one of my clique. Mike has an odd charisma. His out­spo­ken­ness means that he exudes con­fi­dence, and the girls love him for it. I’m never really sure if his mild chau­vin­ism is a seri­ous atti­tude, or just some­thing he projects around other guys to fit in. One of those sex­ist ass­holes the girls can’t seem to resist.

He once con­fessed, “I have this Korean chick fol­low­ing me. You know, the kind you have to kick off your leg like a dog”.

Those girls are only in the movies, I thought to myself. The dorky ones with the glasses who have impos­si­ble crushes on the main char­ac­ters, who, in turn, are com­pletely blind to the awk­ward advances. The girls who sac­ri­fice their chance at hap­pi­ness, because they love him so much and just want him to be happy, mar­tyring them­selves in the minds of teen audi­ences everywhere.

But they do exist. Those stub­born girls who still try to keep con­tact after you tell them you never want to speak to them again. The girls who con­tinue to check your blog at an aver­age of twice a day, some sick voyeuris­tic fascination.

Those girls you wished would for­get about you, so you could for­get about them.