The 'Good' Guy

"I'm a good guy", that's what he always says.

We knew each other since we were in grade 6. We were seat mates and my best friend had a huge crush on him. We talked a lot. Like a lot. We used to have so much fun making up stupid stuff about our teachers and our other classmates.

We got together at the beginning of high school. We kind of tried it out. I guess we wanted to be each other's confidant, not lover, so we broke it off. I'm happy and very relieved that we did. Because if we didn't, I'm sure I'd die of jealousy and anger. He had so many girls. I cannot understand why all of them keep falling for him. He never gets tired of saying, "She's the one, I swear, she's the one." If ever I'd get money for every wrong girl that turned out, man, I would be filthy rich by now.

He would tell me all about his escapades! Crazy. He told me who is good with what. We were THAT close. I told him my stuff too!

He went away for the States for a while and when he got back, he slept, went to the gym and then went straight here in my house to raid our refrigerator. I loved our random food trips here at home so much. Unfortunately, he had to leave again.

We keep in touch to this day and he still tells me how much of a good guy he is. Really conceited, I'm sorry. Good Guy is an ass. But I love this ass. Haha.

See ya Good Guy!