Then, of course, came the endless pokings. After a while I just stopped even visiting facebook anymore. If I wanted to get poked 15 times a day, I'd go visit my crazy great aunt Martha.
The final straw was the package I got in the mail the other day. Was I not supposed to realize that the red, soft, sweet-smelling lock of hair in that box was from you? Was I supposed to be encouraged? I'm not sure what you were going for, but if it was creeping me out and giving me something to sleep next to and cuddle with at night, you succeeded.
Please, please stop this silly bout of puppy love. I'm sure someone will love you eventually. It just won't be me.