Dear All,
I hope that you’re doing well during this fraught time. And while I do sincerely wish the best for all of you, I’ll be honest, I’m also a bit pissed off. You’re CC’d to this email because you, for some reason, have not contacted me once despite all of the clear signals I’ve given you. Since it apparently takes this email to inform you that we have been dating for a significant period of time, I believe I’m owed some answers. Please see below.
To Kyle, the guy I matched with on Hinge: Remember me? You wrote “want kids someday” on your profile and checked all of my boxes for a potential boyfriend: good job, nonsmoker, tall, and has a dog. I’m a little disappointed that after our four-message exchange about how our weekends went, you haven’t proposed. It’s been almost a year, after all, and it seems weird with the holidays coming up that my sister hasn’t gotten any calls about what kind of princess cut rings are on my Pinterest page. Would love to touch base about this at your earliest convenience.
To the Guy with Green Eyes and a Messenger Bag on the Subway: Our story was truly a love-at-first-sight meet-cute, which is why I’m sincerely floored that you’ve gone MIA. Don’t you remember when we made eye contact, not once but twice during our journey to midtown? I was the one wearing the all-black ensemble with glasses and reading a book? A book, by the way, that was supposed to be a conversation starter? Well, it apparently didn’t work, and neither did my several Missed Connections posts that I repeatedly sent out for a year. Some answers would be nice.
To Guy with Curly Brown Hair Who Sat Next to Me on Flight 1874 from Los Angeles to New York Four Years Ago: I am especially frustrated with you. Four years? And not even an Instagram request? I’ll admit, you were asleep for most of the flight, but I still don’t understand how you could simply ignore my elbow edging over to your side of the armrest. I even coyly looked at you as I finished a phony crossword puzzle that I was paying no attention to. I pretended it was fine when you ultimately got off the plane without slipping me a napkin with your number on it, but it’s been long enough. Would appreciate a DTR conversation in the near future.
To Billy McHenderson, Who Married Me at Recess in Second Grade: WTF? Don’t think I haven’t seen what you’re up to on Facebook, Billy. I’ve seen the photos. Who is she? Who is this “Kendra” in these supposed “wedding” photos with you? Did you forget? Did you? Did you forget that we said vows to one another? Did that mean nothing to you? I’ve changed my mind, I don’t want to hear one word from you. Please sign the annulment papers attached and send me back the ring I made you out of dandelion stems.
I do expect responses from each of you in a respectful time frame, even if this is not your correct email address, as I had to do a lot of guessing. If you are none of the men above, please ignore this email.
Sincerely,
Anna Currell