Story time: When I got ghosted by a boy on MySpace and why I know all the lyrics to every @Nickelback song prior to 2008

So when I was in 11th grade I thirst added this guy on MySpace. He lived in Branson and worked at @OldNavy.

He’d send me pictures of his abs over MSN Messenger and I’d load them on my @HTC Tilt. True love.

So you know how every gay has a queen? Like that one celebrity, typically a female singer that they are just die hard stans of? Yeah? Cool.

His. Was. @Nickelback.

So 11th grade Archie strolls up to Walmart and buys every single @Nickelback album.

I wanted to bond with him over something. I didn’t have abs. He did. Nickelback was all I had!

I get home and listen to all the CDs with the lyric books and they are on heavy rotation in my car for a good few months.

I’d make lyrics my quote on MSN Messenger so he wouldn’t forget how much we had in common. He’d send me another picture of his abs.

Flash forward to December 2008. I go to Branson with my youth group for this weekend long concert called Winter Extreme.

Of course we go to the mall. Branson’s outlet mall is dope. And I stole my parent’s Old Navy credit card.

I go into Old Navy to see him. We make direct eye contact. I smile and start walking towards him.

He doesn’t acknowledge me but he does walk to the back.

I’m super depressed. I’m also super confused. I had to have looked like my photos or he wouldn’t have recognized me. I MEMORIZED 6 NICKLEBACK ALBUMS FOR HIM AND MADE HIS MYSPACE COOL AS HELL.

What was I not doing right?

I get home, a couple of days later, login to MSN Messenger and he blocked me. Login to MySpace. He blocked me there too!

So what do I do now? I made this my MySpace profile song.

Yes. To this day, I’m just as petty/depressing.

So I’m in Branson a few months back and go to the outlet mall. Of course I had to hit up @OldNavy. And guess who still works at Old Navy.

That lil bitch twink that now has a receding hairline and scraggly facial hair.

We make eye contact AGAIN. He doesn’t recognize me but I spent wayyyyyy too long on his MySpace listening to “Photograph” to not recognize him ten years later.

He messages me on Grindr. Still not knowing who I am. I block him.

Moral of the story is: Men are trash, Nickelback spells their name wrong according to auto-correct and I’m cuter than every boy that’s ever ghosted me.