I think we are gonna be friends

“That’s not how it’s supposed to work,” she said. And she’s right. That’s not how it works. You can’t just talk to someone for an hour about nothing and expect them to date you.

You have to woo them. You have to ask them out. Straight up. On a whim. Hang out with them all night, and brush some broken glass away from their feet. You have to meet her in a bookstore and realize she’s the girl you took on that road trip in college.

Falling in love is like a video game and, unfortunately, I’m the one who makes the little guy run into the hole because I have no idea that the b button makes him jump. So I keep running and running and running and falling and falling and falling. And every time, the little guy dies, and another life is scraped off the top, right hand corner of the screen.

I’ve never figured out this game. I don’t even know how to hold the controller. And pretty soon I’ll be staring at the big, fat words, “Game Over,” sitting alone in my room with four cats and two dogs and a dusty comicbook collection wondering how I got so fat and so stupid.