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A Casual Timeline Of Running Into My High School Crush When I Looked Like Walking Garbage

woman looking disheveled

  • Ah. FINALLY home after the day from hell.
  • See ya later, bra.
  • So long, pants.
  • Talk to you never, uncomfortable booties.
  • Now time to settle in for an evening of Favored food, romantic comedies, and a date with the ole vibrator.
  • *phone buzzes.*
  • Must be my mom with yet another link to an old, viral video that’s circling Facebook.
  • I get that shelter dogs are cute mom, but if it has 30,000,000 views, you can bet I’ve seen it.
  • *checks phone*
  • “Get ready bitch, we going out.”
  • Fuck.
  • Can I just pretend I didn’t see this?
  • *phone buzzes*
  • “I know you’re reading this. Get ready. We’re leaving in 20.”
  • 20?
  • Like, 20 minutes?
  • Uhhh, I don’t think that’s happening.
  • Let me just look in the mirror to confirm that I look like an extra on The Walking Dead.
  • Yeah. There’s no way I’m going.
  • Is that a cheese puff in my hair?
  • *phone buzzes.*
  • “You’re coming.”
  • You know what? Fuck it.
  • I’ll go, but I’m not getting ready.
  • I can’t get ready.
  • I’ll just wear the maxi that requires no bra, throw my hair in a messy bun and go bare-faced.
  • No, I don’t look good, but I’m also boycotting so whatever.
  • And hey! Maybe they’ll change their minds when they see that I look like a sewer rat that decided to grow out its hair and dye it a shitty ombrè.
  • *knock on the door*
  • “Yeah yeah I know I look like shit, but it’s fine. I just won’t go.”
  • Dammit, they didn’t fall for it.
  • Well, alcohol should help this situation.
  • Shot.
  • Shot.
  • Overfilled glass of wine? Why not?
  • Fireball.
  • “Don’t worry guys, I’ll get us an Uber.”
  • Smart idea, girl who has no paycheck. Smart idea.
  • At least this way I can pick where we’re going.
  • “Let’s just go some place cute and lowkey!”
  • Thank God they fell for it.
  • Sure, it’s a whole strip of bars, but they all have low lighting, seating, and the guarantee that I won’t run into anyone I know.
  • Let’s do this shit.
  • *phone buzzes*
  • “Snapchat from: John High School”
  • John High School?
  • Like, the John from my high school who I had a painful crush on?
  • The John from my high school who I almost hooked up with but never got the chance?
  • The John from my high school who I should have dumped my shitty high school boyfriend for?
  • Why is *he* Snapchatting me?
  • It’s only been like, 900 years.
  • “Hey! I’m in your area visiting a friend. Where are you going out tonight?”
  • Oh my god.
  • Oh my GOD.
  • The dick that got away is here. HERE. Breathing the air of my city.
  • Looking for me.
  • Longing for me.
  • Wanting me.
  • Tonight is it. The night.
  • The night I bang my high school crush.
  • *glances at self in mirror*
  • Oh, wait. Except I look like the girl from The Ring.
  • Okay, I’ll just send him a DM and say I can’t.
  • Sure, it’s a loss, but I’d rather he remember me as a hot high school senior than a washed up postgrad with twenty extra pounds and undereye bags.
  • “Can’t tonight, I’m sick. Maybe next time.”
  • Perfect. Now, to hit the bar!
  • Shot.
  • Mixed drink.
  • “Chelsea, is that you?”
  • *heart stops.*
  • *blood freezes.*
  • *time ceases to exist.*
  • I turn around and there he is.
  • Those eyes. That stubble. Those muscles.
  • He got hotter. He definitely got hotter.
  • “Oh, uh. Hi.”
  • “I thought you were sick?” he laughs.
  • HE LAUGHS. HE’S LAUGHING MAYBE IT’S ALL OKAY.
  • And here’s the hug.
  • Yes. He definitely got hotter.
  • “So uh, how are you?”
  • “Good, good. Good. I’m fine. You?”
  • Okay, this is good. Small talk is good. People do this.
  • Maybe if you talk, he won’t realize you went from a 9 to a 2.
  • I just need to let him know that I don’t always look this bad.
  • But like, casually. Cooly.
  • “I usually brush my hair you know.”
  • There. Good. Nailed it.
  • Oh. You’re leaving? You have to go?
  • “Yeah, cool. Nice to see you. I’ll just go kill myself now.”
  • Well fuck.
  • Time to blackout then.
  • Tequila.
  • Fireball.
  • “Why doesn’t he likeeee me?”
  • Vodka soda.
  • “He’s nottt that fucking great.”
  • Fireball.
  • “Ima text him.”
  • “Why did youuy leavee? You know i used to love yout rightt?”
  • There!!!!! That should show him.
  • He needs to know his truth.
  • *phone buzzes*
  • “Haha I know.”
  • He knows?
  • He KNOWS?
  • He fucking knows?
  • Cue: crying at the bar.
  • “I don’t even fucking care he’s not even that hot!”
  •  “I BET HIS PENIS ISN’T EVEN GREAT.”
  • “I USUALLYYY BRUSH MY HAIR.”
  • Throw up in the bushes or the sink? Bushes or sink?  Bushes or sink?
  • Bushes.
  • “I don’t want any fucking water I just want John’s dick.”
  • Water.
  • Tacos.
  • *cries in the back of the Uber.*
  • “Why doesn’t he lovee me?”
  • I should text him, right?
  • Fuck you Stacey, I know what I’m doing.
  • “Sorry about thast. I dont love yu tha much.”
  • Perfect.
  • Now to just delete these so I don’t see them tomorrow.
  • Fuck guys.

Nailed it.

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