Dear InstaCrush

Dear @InstaCrush,

You know those people that you follow simply because they’re hot? Welp, you’re one of mine. I know I shouldn’t follow you because you do nothing but post thirst traps — but I’m parched and I can’t look away.

Let’s be honest here: this whole relationship began simply based on your physical appearance. The big brown eyes. The sharp jawline. The bright smile. The whole
package. . . 

Wait, that came out wrong. Not what I meant.

I can’t help but think that behind the whole physical exterior clearly lies a complete idiot who is used to just having girls fall at their feet. You probably flex your muscles, flash those pearly whites and sing some pretty song — and before you even finish the note they’re wetting themselves. Okay, who am I kidding? I’d probably end up in the same position.

Man, not again.

The point is that this fictional relationship is all in my head. I got so caught up and distracted by your physical appearance that I was willing to overlook your cringe-y captions filled with thinly veiled attempts to appear deep and intellectual. But no more. I am a self-confident, independent black woman that don’t need no InstaBae! Or at least, that’s what I tell myself as I scroll through your feed and convince myself that I’m completely fine.

I know that this relationship wouldn’t work out in real life. You’re basically a walking thirst trap and I’m barely a drip trap. I mean, don’t get me wrong; I know I’m cute. I don’t need nobody to tell me that. But if you’re anything like your Instagram profile, you’d probably spend most of the time posing in the mirror and Googling inspirational quotes or Drake lyrics to use as Instagram captions. I have too much to do. More specifically, too many things to eat, and I need to sit around and watch you prepare your photos for the ‘gram.

Now, I have to be honest. I really don’t care about any other parts of your life. I don’t really care about what you do for a living or where you live or where you ate dinner. I’m really just here because your face is hotter than the desert in July. That’s it. Is it shallow? Yes. Do I care? Nope. Sometimes you need some things to keep you happy in this crazy world where reality TV stars run countries, avocado toast prevents me from buying a house, and millennials keep ruining things.

However, I think I have to unfollow you. Why? Because unlike the fantasy land of Instagram, where you and I fall happily in love and raise our family of five dogs, this is the real world and you have no idea I exist. Instead, I’ll just melt into the melee of other thirsty women and let my passionate desires be suppressed. Although. . . if you called me, I’d come right away.

Damn it. I give up.



read Dear Instacrush part 2 here!
read Dear Instacrush part 3 here!