Push. And Pull.

How do they do it.

Boys i mean. Just when you think you've got the smarts and can ween yourself off sparkly love interest, they turn around and do, or say something umm. Well. Something cute.

RRrrr. A holes..

I wish they had the same awkward lower hand that I have, that makes them constantly write, or say, the most dumbass, bumbling, unintelligent, stupidest, nonsensical crap. Oh. god. There i go again.

It's almost like i need some sort of finger muzzle. See. Now there's an idea worth marketing.

Anyway. Stupid boy that i love: Please don't be funny anymore.

Or smart.

Or good at stuff.

Don't text me the way you do, late at night.

Don't surprise me with lovely little treats.

Don't keep me hanging on.

Don't skype me songs i'll like.

Don't send me emails with cool words to learn.

Don't invite me to fun places you'll be.

Don't give me nice compliments.

Don't look at me with those coy, lovely eyes.

Just be mean. That way i can detest you with fervor, and enjoy knowing that you aren't worth the trouble.

But hang on...if you leave me without that delicious funny feeling, what on earth would there be left for me to write about ?

Maybe just don't leave me this way...