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
Jeff: and she still e‑mails me
dar: she’s going to kill you in the dark
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.
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.