Dear kind-of-looks-familiar-to-me boy.
Just because I'm in my pajamas doesn't mean you need to duck your head like a twelve-year-old and pretend you don't see me when we pass within two inches of each other. I'm not dressed indecently, nor are you imposing on my personal boundaries as I load the washer in the basement laundry room of my building. Or, at least, it wouldn't feel that way if you didn't act so uncomfortable. But because you're acting so awkward it makes me feel like you just walked in on me getting dressed or something, even though it shouldn't, so now I feel awkward too. But I'll say hi anyway to appear nonchalant, and you'll stare fixedly at the cement floor as you hurry past me and mumble "hey there" and be gone in a blink of an eye.
Wow. That was weird. And now I feel all guilty for no reason at all.
Dear neighbor.
I flatter myself that I understand the value of love as much as anyone else. And I'm very glad that you're not behaving that way in "public." And I also understand that there is little privacy in the dorms and on campus.
But that doesn't change the fact that I feel so incredibly uncomfortable when I blunder in on you two staring passionately into each others eyes, embracing near the dryers, while I'm in sweats and bra-less trying to untangle the sodden legs of my jeans as slowly as possible in changing loads, feeling my face turn ever more scarlet the longer you stand there.
HELLO I'M THREE FEET AWAY FROM YOU AND PRETENDING YOU DON'T EXIST, I WISH YOU WOULDN'T RETURN THE FAVOR!
Too lazy to look for songs.
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