You’re a lesbian, which is a big red flag because how are you going to mess with my head if there’s an actual possibility that you’d be interested in me?
When I was going through my breakup, I would sit in the park and watch you coach during my lunch break. I then got the nerve to actually attend one of your sessions and you said “Hello, are you Jenna?” In that banging Scottish accent you have, and I buckled at the knees.
Though I blamed that on meniscus tears.
I learned that you have a girlfriend – that’s to be expected when you look the way you do. I hear she’s Spanish. Great, I too am 13.8% Iberian.
Yay, I’m your type! (I hope you like commitment-phobic, overweight comedians with a disorganised attachment style too. Fingers crossed!)
Do you remember when we first started flirting? I drop-shotted you during a demo, and you smiled at me. That’s flirting, right? God, I’ve not done any flirting for so long I’ve forgotten how to do it.
I’ve just checked with my friend and she said that smiling at someone is not flirting. So, what… I should cancel the wedding?
But, what’s this… You’re moving back home to Scotland to become a police officer???
WTF? That’s giving me mixed signals. Yes, police officers are hot because of the outfit and the power, but Scotland is, like, north of London, and that seems pretty far…
I don’t do long-distance relationships; I’ve enough travelling to do each week when I want to get binge supplies from Tesco. I’m not driving over 500 miles just for sex.
No, it’s fine. You bugger off to Scotland because if I’m being honest, I don’t actually like hot blonde Scottish tennis coaches with banging legs and a cheeky smile anyway. They repulse me and I think it’s time you stopped thinking about me and move on with your life.
Now, let me go back to daydreaming about Aryna Sabalenka, the straight professional tennis player with whom I probably have more of a chance with.
Goodbye forever,
The one who got away