Dear Dreamy But Distant Boy,
Hi! How are you? I hope you’re well. Thanks so much for saying yes when I asked if you wanted to have a coffee with me. I’m so excited but I’m trying to act like I’m really aloof. Because, see, you’re a guy in your early 20s so planning an event more than a day in advance is so not your style. That I even got you out of the house is sort of a big deal to me.
I’ve been watching you from afar for a while now. You live in my neighborhood so I see you at the same coffee shops, bars, alternative bookstores and jam spaces. I really like the way your hair just…does that.
You’re not making any eye contact with me while on this date. That’s totally cool. I’ll still go out with you another two or three times and then put out because, as I’ll tell my roommates later, you have “the kindest eyes, I mean, guys, I just trust him.” If you’re smart, you will totally take advantage of this (and you will).
Just being in your presence is literally making me sweat in places I didn’t even know have sweat glands.
After we sleep together, I’m going to get emotionally invested way too fast and all my friends are going to hear about how I get the impression you’re just not into me anymore. I’m going to text you everyday—even though I promised myself I wouldn’t—and when you reply two or three hours later, I’ll make myself wait a half hour before replying.
You know, so I don’t appear too eager.
It’s pretty clear that this is casual dating to you, but to me, I have grand plans for the two of us. I’m going to break you from your overtly calm exterior. You are going to hold me all night as I drift to sleep in your arms. You may only have two or three feelings, but I have millions, and I am going to talk about them forever.
Only I am powerful enough to make you love me.
Anyway, you’re 24 now, so your impending mid-20s adult-male mental-breakdown is coming any minute. You’re going to prattle on about how you have to take a trip somewhere and how you don’t “know” yourself anymore and how “this isn’t the life [you] wanted.” And then I will cry and bellow, “AM I NOT ENOUGH FOR YOU, STEVE???” or whatever your name is because I am a foolish young girl and I don’t yet understand that dating crazy will render you crazy, and you will give me a hug and a kiss on the forehead and tell me how much I changed you for the better but it’s time for you to blossom into a butterfly or some other poorly constructed metaphor.
I’m really looking forward to the next two months of going out with you, Dreamy But Distant Boy, followed by six months of having my self-esteem annihilated by the fact that you never texted me back.
See you around. I am already in tears.
Almost Every Girl Ever