Dear Boy from Work,

Are you a fucking mindreader or something? You must be, because otherwise, I don't know how you would know that at 5 IN THE MORNING I was sitting on my sofa having that horrible moment in which I realized I had to give up on you, because it is never going to happen. Then, oh, who could possibly be texting me at such an hour, when I am hardly ever awake anyway? IT'S YOU?? HOW??? And more importantly, WHYYYY??? Please let me forget you. You are engaged to be married and not to me. It's not my fault that she is boring and fug and always looks like she's smelling something gross and that you would rather sneak around and hang out with me. Leave me alone. Wait, don't.

Probably obsessively re-reading the contents of my inbox,
Cate