DEAR HOT NEIGHBOR

DEAR HOT NEIGHBOR,

I’m writing this letter to find some closure, as I don’t know how many more awkward trash chute interactions my psyche can withstand.

I’m sorry I ghosted you. I’m not proud of it, but you must understand I had my reasons.

I had a crush on you since seeing your profile pic in the building group chat. When our hands brushed against each other reaching for the 5th floor elevator button, a certain chemistry passed between us that wasn’t just neighborly… it was horny.

So began our brief foray into the taboo world of the same-floor situationship. I’m sure you remember it as vividly as I do. You were everything I had ever wanted: cute, accessible, and casual. So…

WHY DID YOU HAVE TO WRITE ME A POEM?!!!!

You had to know that was going to give me the ick. Men should NOT write poetry, especially about a casual partner. I mean, the first line was you slant rhyming “your boobs” with “break down my wall of fortitude”. Like… what did you think that was going to do? Imagine my horror as I got over the shock of that sentence only to realize that there were another five pages of poetry of similar quality sitting in my mailbox. HOW DID YOU GET IT INTO MY MAILBOX?

I was left with no other option than to immediately cut you out of my mind to kill the part of my brain that was cringing so hard I would wake up with a headache. Naturally, that included ceasing all communication.

However, I’ve realized that was not the adult thing to do. It’s eclipse season, I need to communicate my thoughts and feelings in order to truly move on. If that’s how you want to express yourself, fine. But I’m begging you to spare any of your future partners. Some things should not be seen by the eyes of others. You will be better for it.

Please stop staring me down in the hallway.

Sincerely, the person in 506.