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Fuck the Internet
Back in the days of high school, I had a fierce crush on this girl. I was young and somewhat (see also: wholly) inexperienced with women, so, despite her glaring flaws as a human, I eagerly jumped through the hoops she tossed about, all under the guise of "let's just be friends." Wishful thinking motivated me to continue the pursuit. My efforts were rewarded with a few kisses here and there.
After two months or so of this horseshit, she started hanging out with another guy. We shall call him Mr. Klinefelter. I objected, of course, but she stated that they too were "just friends". I know the transitive property of friends states that I should have been friends with him as well, but that was not the case.
Klinefelter was an emancipated minor, which meant that he had his own apartment. Klinefelter also had a lot of friends. Thusly, there were many parties at this apartment. And this girl, she liked to party.
Finally, I got fed up of this two-timing "friend" bullshit. I wouldn't be waiting in the wings for her to grace me with her attention. I confronted her and expressed my feelings, but somwhere along the way, things backfied. She ended up losing her virginity to Mr. Klinefelter that very night. Awesome.
I was all busted up about this. The world was a cold, dead place to me -- for about a month, then I found some other girl to chase. I haven't really thought about her since.
Flash forward 10 or so years and she finds me on one of those shitty social networks. I graciously decline her request to be friends, but I peruse her profile. Since we last spoke, she's pushed out two kids, which has destroyed her figure (probably added on 100+ lbs). She's got a few (lame) tattoos and a lot of (really lame) piercings. She still lives in the same (shitty) town. She listens to Korn. She drinks shitty beer. Her finance is a welder (no joke) who competes in what looks to be really-really-really low budget motocross competitions.
As a true American hero once said: some of God's greatest gifts are unanswered prayers.
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