In the beginning, a guy asked a girl for her number…
Day 1: The girl said, “Let there be hope.”
Hope that guys aren’t all bad. The hope that he doesn’t turn out to be a douche, or married, or gay. A hope that I won’t die alone with twenty-six cats.
Day 1 and a half: The girl said, “Let there be anxiety.”
What if he doesn’t text me? What if we never date? What if he was just humouring me to get me to leave him alone because he actually thinks I’m super annoying? Or, what if he was the one? I bet he was and I was weird, or I said something stupid and fucked it up and now he’s going to find a different girl to marry and have babies with and love forever and it’s all my fault. I should facebook stalk him.
Day 2: The girl said, “Let there be self-doubt.”
Did I even give him the right number? Did he write it down wrong? Is my phone working? I should test it. I should message my mom. Mom’s always text back. I should go buy a new phone, just in case.
Day 2 and a half: The girl was over that jerk!
Yeah, he’s never going to text me at this point but, whatever. He probably has a girlfriend but still asks for other girls’ numbers because he’s the world’s biggest asshole. It’s obvious he thinks he’s better than me. He’s so wrong though cause I’m the one that’s too good for him! He’s a trash person.
Day 2 and three quarter the girl said, “Let there be independence!”
I’m way better than that! Pffft. I don’t need him because I’m an independent woman! I don’t need no man. I don’t need anyone. I’m just going to listen to ‘Single Ladies’ on repeat for the next couple hours. Just me myself and I, I’m good.
The girl saw all that she had done, and it was good.
…On the third day, the guy texted.