Notes

I know that you know very well that you are being irrational with the Alice situation. For months now, you've been lying on that dingy mattress in your basement, writing new years resolutions with pencil crayons and sulking in despair. I wouldn't say you need to call Centre de Crise, but you have gone a bit wacko. You can see that as well, in your own erratic behavior.

I also know that you say things have been going well lately with her. You say that your conversations have been more lively, and more substantial, and that her response time between messages has considerably shortened. But have you considered that those conversations may be forced on her end? In a conversation with Paul, she admitted that she harbors no romantic feelings towards you, and that she feels coerced by us to like you. But you still feel hope.

And hope is fine, should you have been compatible to begin with. From the start, you liked different things. I don't even know what she likes, but I know that you've changed what you like for her. Your new years resolutions are half in Chinese, you became the MC for that dingy festival, you've considered going to bed at ten, and when you're not doing any of that, you're still thinking about her. And believe, me when I say I get it. I get that playing the long game hurts. I get that it makes you want to melt, and explode, and yell. I get that when Alice private messages Paul, "being friends is good enough. I don't have any other intentions with him," it cuts deep. I get it.

And I know you get it too. And because I know you understand your own irrational and erratic behavior, and because I know that you're usually not one to dwell on things, because I know you, I know that you have it in you to forget about her.

I don't want to do anything to intervene, because I don't think that my interference in anything will help anything, but I do urge you to consider the fact that there is no light at the end of this tunnel. No chicken tenders awaiting. You either occupy your time with something else, and whatever that something is, we'll find it, or you marry the Mormon, donate a chunk of your salary to the Mormon church, and have her leech off of you until you die all while she may or may not be banging four other dudes as part of her religious dating regimen. She's not going to fuck you. She's not going to blow you. She's not going to even fucking blow you a kiss.

But she'll be friends with you.