Dear Junot Díaz,
So, it’s been a few weeks and I still can’t seem to get you off my mind. That means it’s time to write you the letter. The, I’m completely over you; I’ll stop stalking you on social media letter (but let’s face it there’s no way I’m going to stop stalking you any time soon).
I will say, it was oddly comfortable with you from the start. I went to your house, which I wouldn’t suggest for a first date because of the whole he could be a murderer factor, but I somehow felt safe. I felt safe when my phone died and I still let myself go into your gorgeous house that you so obviously loved to show off; there was a fucking elevator in your fucking house. You were different than the others; I kind of let myself see a future with you. You seemed like you knew how to be a boyfriend and I could learn how to be a girlfriend for you.
You weren’t perfect though. You were really not perfect. I mean you were rich, which made me feel uncomfortable, which is odd because that’s never happened to me before. You were also so cocky, they’re always so cocky. I find it attractive, I guess, but there’s a difference between being condescending and having confidence. I could list all the red flags and imperfections but I really didn’t see it coming.
I decided to stop talking to you after you flaked on me for the third time. The imperfections and red flags were becoming more and more evident. Then you messaged me a week later. You were getting back with your ex (the ex you said you were completely over with, the ex you told me you didn’t feel connected to even when you were together). And then she messaged me. And then I wanted to run and hide. And then I told all my friends about it because the story was so goddamn unreal. She wanted to know what happened between us, I don’t even know the answer to that.
I should have seen it coming. Real honest guys don’t need to remind you that they’re “an honest guy.”