Strangers on a Train

**brought to you by our lovely guest correspondent Ash Hole**

Dear Slime Boy:

I'm very sorry for not responding to you the first time you tried to say hello to me on the train.  Looking back on it, a very large, unkempt man waving frantically in my direction should have caught my attention in a good way, a way in which true love would instantly form between us.  It was so rude of me to continue looking at my phone, rather than acknowledge your existence.  I'm sorry it took until the next stop for me to finally get the hint that your flattering (not to mention very cool and suave) wave was intended for me.  And when I quickly waved back and immediately looked back down, I can see how you might think that I was being coy and shy, while secretly planning our vacation wedding and our children's names in my head.  I can see, then, why you thought I would have been disappointed when my stop came and I had to get off the train without meeting the future love of my life.

I am so very glad, then, that you decided to wait at my stop a few weeks later, and rush right up to talk to me in the pouring rain.  Looking back, it should have been the perfect moment for our eyes to meet, and our true love vows to be spoken...just like in "The Notebook."  Given the all too perfect set up, and the fact that you had waited around just to talk to me, I can see why you wouldn't believe that i really meant "No" when you asked me out that day.  Who was I to deny our fate? Who was I to deny true love.

But wait!  As luck would have it, as I was sitting on the train a few weeks later, I got another shot at true love.  As I saw you sit down directly across from me, I'll admit my heart stopped.  The look of shock and fear on my face was clearly not, as I had originally thought, stemming from my fear of imminent death, but really it was fear of the unknown-fear of the shot at true love that had come so suddenly into my personal space.  You asked me out again, and again I said no.  Why...WHY did I do that?  Now you are probably busy stalking another young girl on the train, and now every time I board that train my stomach will drop and my heart will stop-not out of fear of being stalked, killed, or raped by you, but at fear of having lost my one true love.  My slime boy.

Forever Longing for Your Embrace.