Justin Huang

A hangover is beginning to sink over me like a wet blanket of regret. I need coffee. Or food. Maybe both.

I can’t beat myself up about it now, because I’d already fallen for him when he told me about the other boy.

Whenever I come across a hot Asian couple – as in, a couple that consists of two attractive people of full Asian descent – it’s akin to witnessing a solar eclipse.

What people hate the most is indecision. Even if I’m completely unsure, I’ll pretend I know exactly what I’m talking about and make a decision.

Last month, Curbed LA came out with a somewhat depressing article called What $1,200 A Month Can Rent You In 5 LA Neighborhoods.

Much like a butterfly, the life and subsequent metamorphosis of the Unrequited Crush (Amore peribatus) has five stages: the Hint, the Spark, the Smoke, the Burn, and the Fire.

Not even my closest friends know this about me, but I was once engaged.

“Just answer me this. At any point of the night, have I seemed intoxicated to you?” I ask him, staring him dead in the eye.

Once in a while I find myself sitting across from a couple, and I can’t help but think they are space aliens.