I'm not as dumb as I look, but thanks for coming out

I see what's going on here. I get it. It's really obvious, now that I think about it.

You're playing me for a fool. But I'm on to you.

You "just so happen" to notice me sitting at the bar that Saturday night. You "just so happen" to come out multiple times throughout my short stay. You "just so happen" to be in the ballroom when I change venues. You "just so happen" to tell the bartender without uttering a single word that I do not have to pay for my own drink. You "just so happen" to sit down next to me and talk to me. You "just so happen" to determine that I'm there alone and waiting for no one. You "just so happen" to have time to get to know me over the blaring Latin beats while you're supposed to be working. You "just so happen" to have a business card in your pocket with your cell phone number scribbled on the back. You "just so happen" to give it to me. You "just so happen" to tell me that you want me to use it. You "just so happen" to make an appearance in the ballroom repeatedly, seemingly staying there just until I notice you and leaving shortly thereafter.

It "just so happens" that I decided to step foot into that bar that night; a bar I'd never been to, a bar I wasn't sure existed. It "just so happens" I noticed you when I was sipping my drink. It "just so happens" I felt butterflies in my stomach as I watched you approach my table. It "just so happens" I wished that you would pull up a chair and sit next to me while you were standing there talking to me. It "just so happens" that I felt happy when you did and disappointed when you pushed back from the table to leave. It "just so happens" that I was flattered when you gave me your phone number. It "just so happens" that I wanted to thank you for the third time. It "just so happens" that I looked around for you at the end of the night and couldn't find you. It "just so happens" that I decided to message you like you suggested.

You "just so happen" to respond. You "just so happen" to mention that you would like to see me again. You "just so happen" to be leaving for a month, exactly one week after that fateful night.

A month can be a long time. A lot can happen. In a month, I can either forget about you completely, or think about you constantly. It can go either way, really.

In a mere six days you made sure which way it was going to go. In a mere six days, you "just so happen" to infiltrate my life. In a mere six days, you "just so happen" to become a constant fixture; filling a role no one has occupied for longer than I care to mention.

I think there are way too many "just so happens" for it all to be a coincidence. Clearly this is part of your plan. You wanted to meet me. You wanted to make an impression on me. You wanted me to absorb as much of you as I could "before you left".

Congratulations, your plan worked. Your actions and your words clearly indicate your intentions. You want me to miss you. You want me to come running when you get back.

Congratulations, your plan worked. I've known you for nine days. I laid eyes on you three times in the week you were here. Despite that, it's been two days since you left and I miss you already. How did this happen? And then it hits me. It's all part of your plan.

But I'm onto you. I realize that it's all a ruse. Your "going away party" was a nice touch. Well played, sir, but I don't need the month… you can "come back from Thailand" now.