The following is for bellpickle's challenge, Snapshot. (Woahhh, first challenge submission ever.) I made two drafts for this last night, only to type it all up and realize I've got 399 words exactly -__-. fffffff, so I fed it some laxatives; it's at a perfect 300 now :]

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365 days ago, I boldly shot Cupid’s arrow. I recall the weeks prior. Your locker stood aligned with others, crowded by generic high school cliques, their noisy chatter between bells. But it was easily found as I had so easily found you. I envisioned you a suave man followed by a wave of intoxicating admiration. With a tug I felt my heart squeeze as you devoured it.

That day, I sent you my love in boxes and chocolates. I shoved my hopes and fantasies into the well of your locker, thoughtfully securing our future dates and prom.

My days were filled with hateful rumors instead. I had mean-girl glares follow me down the hallway. Obnoxious whispers swarmed like killer bees. My demise was recorded on bathroom stalls. Admittedly, my heart strings popped at every cruel word you spat.

Anyways, I get it. It’s much too difficult to break from your egotist friends, hence you’ll be too busy kissing their asses and chasing sluts to respond decently. Perhaps the heavy cologne choked my common sense.

So for this Valentine’s Day, I made a few things to show that I truly understand. An abundance of cards in every lovely shade of pink are signed by rouge lips. There’s a ribbon on each one, tied tightly in a bow.

I’m afraid I wasn’t awfully creative this time around, but I couldn’t risk obscuring the message. Consequently, the insides of each card contain a plainly written “Fuck you” in black sharpie. And to be sure not to disguise any animosity, I explained everything in this note (posted on the largest card so you wouldn’t miss it). Because I’m sure you won’t read it, a simpler message is toward the bottom, also in sharpie.

“Just so you know that I don’t love you, fuck you too.”