Thought Catalog


I liked Ben, I really did. I mean, he was a nice guy. We had some fun times together in college, messing around the dorm, going to parties, all the dumb shit that college guys do. He was cool and all, but he was a little… pretentious. Well, I guess the word he used was “artistic.”

I feel like this is essay is going to be like one of those therapeutic letters you’re supposed to write to someone you’re mad at but never send. I do that a lot, I have over 800 emails in my Gmail drafts folder composed to people I’ve been mad at since 2007.