Dear Her,
We need to talk.
I know that the media have trained you to believe that unrequited love is romantic. I know that they’ve planted these grand ideas in your head that you’ll fall for a boy who doesn’t realize just how perfect for him you are, and he’ll dump that whorish cheerleader he’s been seeing (who, strangely enough, looks just like you in a brunette wig) and confess his feelings to you via legal pad. The crowd will cheer, there will be a dramatic swell of music, and bitchy brunette you will storm off in a fit of jealousy and one-dimensional rage.
Here’s the thing though: that usually doesn’t happen. Not even for lanky country stars who closely resemble Siamese cats. And based on what I’ve seen from you lately, what does happen tends to go more like this:
You fall for a boy who, in your opinion, doesn’t realize just how perfect for him you are. And even if he might not be dating a skankier, darker-haired version of you, he does notice your feelings for him. I mean, it’s hard not to notice how your voice gets two pitches higher and your shirt gets two inches lower every time you run into him. But no matter how many times you serenade your hairbrush, picturing his sparkling smile and rippling biceps in the bristles, this boy doesn’t confess his feelings to you via legal pad, or even via text. In fact he doesn’t confess his feelings for you at all.
This is probably because he doesn’t have any. But you know what he does have? An ego. And, much like another (small) part of him, this ego is in need of some stroking.
So don’t you worry your pretty little head off. You’re feelings aren’t going to waste. No, your feelings are actually being recycled for use as douche-fuel, which happens much safer for the environment than regular unleaded gasoline.
Yes, every time your voice goes up a couple of pitches, it reminds said gentleman that he’s a stud. So, naturally, he flashes you a studly smile, leaving you with renewed hope that maybe, just maybe, there’s some legal pad love waiting in your future. And then your voice goes up a pitch or two more, and he flashes another smile. The cycle usually continues until your voice sounds like the sustained beeping of one of the emergency broadcast tests on the tv.
Frankly, I believe you deserve better than this. Also, my ears hurt.
There could very well be a chance for non-unrequited love (also known as requited, if you’re feeling grammatical) waiting for you out there. You could find a man who will confess his feelings to you via paper, text, or (in this technologically progressive and socially deficient era) Facebook message. And it is with that hope in mind that I leave you with this message.
Quit fueling the douche.
If you’ve made your feelings clear, and he hasn’t made a move, it’s time for you to move on and find someone who will. God knows I’m in the mood for dramatic swell of music.
Your GBF,
Scott