By Danny Horgan, Publisher of TheAwesomeCave.com -
In 2006, Taylor Swift wrote a song about me called “Teardrops on my Guitar”. The song centered around her obsession with me — how she would sleep with my picture at night, how she would sing made-up songs about me in her car, etc. For obvious legal reasons, she changed my name in the song to “Drew”.
Taylor and I met back in high school. She used to look at me oddly in class, and I did my best to ignore her. But one day when I was walking by, she looked like she wasn’t breathing. I quickly went over to see if she was okay, and she began asking very personal questions about my then girlfriend. I told her I was “so in love” and that I had finally “got it right” with the hopes she would leave me alone.
The girl I dated a girl in high school was a cheerleading captain who wore short skirts and high heels. We were happy together, and while we were dating, Taylor spent most of her time in the bleachers showing off her new t-shirts and sneakers to her imaginary friends. Never did I think I would date her.
But then the unthinkable happened: My high-heel and short-skirt wearing cheerleading girlfriend broke up with me, and I was left with no one to turn to,
Taylor was there. I took her by the hand, told she was beautiful when she was a mess, and our relationship started.
Things between Taylor and me started smoothly. She would sneak out late, tap on my window, and we would stay up late listening to Baha Men and reading the Qu’ran. The only minor complaint either of us had was that we didn’t have a song — things were otherwise perfect.
But one day things came to a crashing halt. Taylor was riding shotgun with her hair undone in the front seat of my car while we were on the way to her father’s house. We got out, and the first thing her father did was make snide remarks about my dog-collar tattoos. I flipped out on him and started throwing rocks at things that shine like windows and diamonds. Taylor tried to calm me down by assuring me his snide remarks would be ignored, and I believed her. We left with smiles on our faces.
But on the way home, the tattoo issue again came up.
“My father’s snide remarks about your tattoos are bothering me,” she said. “And I don’t know if I can go on with this relationship.”
“You lying bitch!” I yelled. “You assured me his snide remarks would be ignored!”
We broke up that day.
Though the tattoo issue was never resolved, Taylor and I were on and off again repeatedly for the next few months. Whenever she was upset, I would usually just tell her riddles, and she’d forget about why we were fighting. But things again came to a bitter breakup a few weeks ago, and Taylor assured me that this time, we were never getting back together. Like. Ever.
I got my friends to talk to her, but she wouldn’t budge. So I called her up myself, and I was like, “I STILL LOVE YOU.”
And she was like, “This is exhausting. We are never getting back together. Like, ever.”
And then she let out a loud “Noooo!” which broke my phone and shattered my right ear drum.
But the next day, I showed Taylor one of the greatest contemporary documentaries ever made — “Never Say Never”, starring #swaggie king Justin Bieber. The movie, coupled with the messages behind Bieber’s music, convinced Taylor that saying never was something she should NEVER do. I asked her out again, she said yes, and tonight we’re going to the Olive Garden.
Taylor Swift loves the Olive Garden.
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