Heartwarming! My Potential Formal Date Drafts Message About Her Dead Grandma in Notes App

I tend to assume the worst in women and I tend to be right. She’s “depressed?” Yeah, that’s code word for disinterested. She has other friends. Yeah, more like men. She’s 'gay'? Yeah, more happy without you. 

I’ve been rejected so many times that I’ve become a bit cynical. Some might even say depressed. Some might even say that I listen to EDM. Some might even say that I’m profound. But I haven’t truly lost hope. I still max out my swipes (dining and dating) everyday and I try to hit on at least four girls at every function and if there aren’t four girls, I make sure to stroke the leg of a fellow bro. It finally paid off. 

I met Alexia in the most erotic of settings. The third floor of VP among the stacks of contemporary fiction that no one really cares about. I was there playing Kart and she was there looking for a Wharton (Edith) book. I liked how it sounded when she used the bathroom so I treated her to Mark’s Cafe. The rest is history. 

We text all the time. I never knew I could be so prolific. We see each other all the time. Who knew that copying someone’s schedule was so easy! We always eat together: she dresses well and I dress just superbly. So this is love. 

Upon these great foundations of amour, I worked up the courage to ask her to the upcoming minion-themed Sig Nu formal. She truly is the Bob to my Kevin. To my great delight, when I ran into her in the women’s bathroom, she said “yes!”

I could not wait. I even shaved off a tumor! That is, until she sent me a text. I’ll always remember that text like it was the only text she ever sent me. Alexia couldn’t come to Sig Nu anymore because her grandma died. I was heartbroken for her. How sad! I once lost my iPhone so I know how it feels. My broken heart was quickly mended when I realized that the text was an image. (First one of those!) Alexia had drafted her text to me in her Notes app and sent me a screenshot. How sweet! My Wharton-loving fiancée considered me worthy of her literary prowess. She was so sad about missing the formal that she had to journal about it and decided to share it with me. An open book is akin to open legs. At the moment, I’m planning a grandma-themed formal for when Alexia comes back. But for now I’ve texted her, “Don’t stay in LONG Island too LONG! Love, Kevin.”