http://collegecandy.com/2011/07/09/an-open-letter-to-my-rebound-guy/# Dear Rebound Guy, I would like to take this time to 1) say thank you, and 2) apologize for using you at my own discretion. You see, there comes a time in every girl’s life when she gets dumped. Dumped so hard she can only listen to Bon Iver, curl up in a ball in her bed and turn off all the lights. Oh yes, and sob, did I mention that? But there also comes a time when it’s Friday night and her best friends drag her out of bed, put her in a killer push-up bra, a mini-skirt and take her to the most populated bar in town. And that, my friend, is where you came in. To begin, I’d like to thank you for approaching me…or rather the alcohol induced, suddenly-confident-yet-secretly-broken version of me. Right now you think I’m this great girl who you were so lucky to stumble upon and, sure, I may seem completely level-headed and down-for-whatever, but you have no idea what you’ve just gotten yourself into. So, after a few sloppy dances and sweaty hugs, my friends finally find me and let me know you are, in fact, not as attractive as I had thought, and I depart. Without you. (Tease move number one). But not before you whip out your iPhone4 and I shout my number over the music. And that’s how it always begins. Over the next few days, as you’re contemplating how to play it cool with a sly text message, I am completely unaware that we’ve ever met. And so normal life continues; facebook stalking my ex-boyfriend, creeping on girls he’s been in photos with, listening to sad music while crying and looking at old photos, deciding whether or not to burn that teddy bear he gave me, discussing what went wrong with my roommate while eating KFC… Needless to say, Rebound Guy, you are the furthest thing from my mind. All of a sudden my phone’s text alert rings and I lunge hoping it’s my beloved ex! But it’s you, and you want to take me on a date. A blurred image of you pops into my head and I remember enough information about you to find you on Facebook. Okay, you’re decent looking, business major, look clean…I’ll give this a shot. I quickly run out of my room and into my roommate’s and we discuss how much better you could be than my ex and how this could lead to something real and all that B.S. we tell ourselves and each other, when really we all know deep down this will just be a free meal, a potential new friend and another reason to miss the ex…because well, you’re just not my ex-boyfriend. Saturday evening rolls around and you pick me up at my apartment. You look handsome, tell me I look pretty and even open my door. We have awkward car conversation and pick a place to eat. I think to myself, “Alright, this is going fairly well! Maybe I really am ready to move forward!” But as the night wears on and my pseudo-happy self surfaces (which, by the way, you are really taking a liking to), deep down I am acknowledging the fact that I am not yet ready. As you pull up to my apartment complex I lean in for a kiss and thank you for dinner. Why did I kiss you? It’s hard to say. Possibly because I haven’t kissed a guy (sober) in quite a while, maybe because it’s just the normal thing to do if the date went well, or perhaps to try and convince myself that I’ve moved on. Regardless, none of the reasons are because I actually like you in a romantic way. So as you drive away grinning from ear-to-ear brainstorming your next witty text message, I am rushing into my apartment, headed straight to my room to blast Ashley Tisdale’s “Alright, O.K.” as I jump around trying to convince myself to give you a chance and forget the jerk before you. More quickly than expected, the Ash-Tis jams turn into James Morrison’s songs of heartbreak and I’m back to square one. The next few weeks you text me frequently and I play along simply because I don’t want to hurt your feelings. Though we had a great time, it just wasn’t there on my end, but it’s not like I don’t want to be your friend. However, it’s too late and I’ve led you on. Now, a year later, you have messaged me wanting to hang out. I gave myself the time I needed and am with someone wonderful and new, but you are still trying… So here it goes: thank you for allowing me to use you as a stepping-stone to getting over someone else. I think we’ve all been there before, too. Unfortunately, you were just completely unaware. I’m sorry if I chipped your ego or made you feel self-conscious, but it was simply terrible timing. Sincerely, Olivia
I feel sorry for rebounds. People need to be more upfront about this and not bulls#it play games with people. P.S. I'm a girl.
That's why there are shot clocks. Any rebound held onto beyond a certain time period results in a violation. Duh. You get a rebound, you better put that back up QUICK. Tip it in, dunk it, lay it up, whatever you do make your move and make it ASAP because as soon as other defenders find out you have the ball it's a wrap. A year, hell 3 mos later is stalkerish. But then again, this is a female who purposely admits to using the guy so maybe the poor chap was being led on. In that case, if your led on beyond 1 month, then it's not worth it. PS: I'm also a man.
I could totally write a blog in the guise of a mid-to-late 20's chick and get followers. Their mentality, the way they write, the way they look at things, their emotions... its so easy. I should write copy for some alt-woman's magazine or something. I need a good female pen name.
I once extended the rebound way too long, but her grandmother died right when I was going to break it off......
How about Greedo McQueen? My rebound lay was so hideous I have trouble even recalling the details now because I was constantly under the influence. Suffice to say I got a couple bad ****s and she got Burger King. I found out quickly she was penniless and probably just using men on the internet to support herself.
Dear rebound girl. Last night was awesome, now it's time to let you know I am leaving for Africa in the morning for peace corps. Let's not forget the great time we had and the places we went; bedroom, bathroom, neighbors truck bed. Sincerely; whatever name I told you, do not try and find me on facebook.
Dear Resident, The time we spent together, however long it was, meant the world to me. I would love to see you again, but unfortunately I cannot. You see, I... am a ghost. I can only materialize once every decade, on the anniversary of my death. I chose to spend my one day among the living with you, sweet Resident. Perhaps we will meet again in another decade, provided you keep your figure. Until then, all my love from the beyond. - Barney
