Dear Person,

I hope you're happy. You've done it again.

Every time I'm about to forget all about you, you just manage to come back. And this time you're in a god forsaken suit? If you are deliberately trying to kill me, you are doing a heck of a job.

Do you know why it has been bearable to look at you in (wherever it is), it's because you have no sense of style. And today you show up looking ridiculously smart in that shirt, black blazer and those black shoes. Despicable!

And that disgusting gorgeous smile of yours, I hate it! Do you know how hard it is not to stare when you do that?

So I have just one thing to say, and I mean it: Don't you ever let me see you in a shirt or combed hair again. I can't take responsibility for what I might do it happens again, whatever it is it won't be nice.

For now I'm just going to pretend you have a girlfriend and possibly never make eye contact again. Ever.

Yours truly,
Tiffany