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It's your favorite day of every month, because your favorite number is twenty-seven. But your lucky number is 42. Your favorite color is green, but your lucky color is pink.

And I guess those are all of my favorite things too. Because you said so.

I wish I could show you this, Mac, and tell you how truly sorry I am.
Because I truly am sorry. I didn't mean to end up in a relationship with Tom, but I didn't want to fight. A couple dates, sure, but not this. I didn't want this. I didn't even want those dates. I don't like him. And I know, what a horrible person I am for dating him, for being with him, when I don't like him. I know. I'm trying to let him go. I just don't know how. I'm trying not to make it worse. But what does it matter now?

I've lost you. What else do I have to keep around?...

I want to explain this to you. Without being vague or using terms like something or mysterious gender concepts.
I liked Tom the moment I met him. He was interesting and different, despite the boyfriend. We hung out, and I thought that he was cool; you should know, you were there to watch me flirt. Eventually, I got rid of Lance and went on the rebound. I liked Tom. Or, was he there for me? (I haven't exactly decided yet.) I jumped from Cenric to him and there I was, falling into another relationship. One I knew I didn't want to be in. I like someone else. Who is he? Well, he's you. He's always been you. I've liked you since before I broke up with Lance. I liked you the moment I met you. Feelings have certainly changed, but I like you all the same.
I watched Bread break your heart. I watched you flirt with Lindsey. I heard all the stories about how pretty Marlen was. And I was (still am) happy for you. I want(ed) you to be happy. Every time Jess, you, and I hung out, I asked her if she'd invite Lindsey along. I friended Bread on Facebook and tried to make invisible amends. I made friends with Marlen. Everything. Jess didn't want you around Lindsey, partially, because she knew I like(d) you.
I remember, at one point, you told me you were color blind and I stopped wearing red and green. Then, you told me green was your favorite color and I wore it again. I was/am so pathetic. I blogged, and I tried/worked to get over you.
SO, back to Tom. I got with him, because in the back of my head, there was this voice saying that maybe you would pay me some bit of attention. Maybe you would actually recognize that I was a girl, that I was dateable. And then everything blew up. You couldn't stand me, and I lost you.
Now it's over.

But what was ever there?