Dear crush, Hurry While Fertility Still Exists

I know you detest reading long prose. I know it makes you sick to your stomach. Want to throw up even. But you can breathe easy; after all, someone else will do the reading for you. All you have to do is lend a listening, maybe understanding ear.

See, I am trying to figure you out. Peel back your seemingly infinite layers like petals on a flower until I find out what you’re truly into. But your claims of being an open book are proving by the day to be nothing but hot air. Or maybe I am just not cut for you.

Whether I am on a wild goose chase here is for time to tell, but for now, I’ll try to pump life into our withering talking stage.  I’ll gobble up all that BNN content and “juicy tea” just so you know I’m not just another old geek trying to “hi” and “hey” my way into your knickers. I’ll go on about how I’ll make you Queen of some virtual kingdom. I’ll entertain all those irritating questions of you wanting to know whether I’ll still love you if you were a squirrel.

Heck, I’ll even swim across the seven seas (and miserably drown for that matter) just to prove to you that I am the only loyal man left this side of the Sahara. After all, isn’t this the tried and tested trick that worked for our forefathers and is equally effective even now?

I know I have broken the first cardinal rule of the dating world. Making a move on a crush (you). I am well aware that many who walked down this road were ruthlessly “rambwad.” But how else am I to show you my unrequited love? It is either you hand me my long overdue hell of a rejection and exorcise this stubborn simping spirit out of me or you accept and give me the coveted opportunity to show you that I am not cut from a different cloth after all (Boys will be boys).

Wait, before you dismiss me as just another attention-deprived dude, there is a third probability. This is the one I’ll opt for a million times over. Live happily ever after like in the fairy tales. So crushie, time is of the essence, this fairy tale we’re about to write needs kids to listen to. Hurry while fertility still exists.

Till then,

Patoo.