
Boyfriend gave me his Insta password thinking he was slick, forgot he was writing Shakespearean poetry in another girl's DMs the second I went to sleep. Enjoy being single, Romeo.
Shoutout to my soon-to-be ex-boyfriend for providing the absolute peak comedy of the year.
We made things official at the end of May. By August, this absolute mastermind decides to hand over his Instagram password, presumably to prove what a loyal, transparent, golden-retriever boyfriend he is.
Well, I took a little stroll down memory lane to July 11th (barely six weeks into us dating, mind you), and what do I find at 1:20 in the morning?
The context makes it ten times worse: I had an early morning flight the next day, so I had gone to sleep early. The literal second my eyes were closed and I wasn't available to give him attention, our boy immediately scrambled into another girl’s DMs to drop the most aggressively embarrassing pickup line known to mankind:
Him: "Damn, queen traits"
Her: "But why queen?"
Him: "Only a queen can withold such a beauty in herself"
"Only a queen can withold such a beauty in herself." 💀
First of all, you can’t even spell "withhold." Second of all, what Wattpad fanfiction did you crawl out of at 1:20 AM while your girlfriend was resting for travel? The sheer, unadulterated cringe alone is grounds for immediate termination, but the opportunistic disrespect makes it effortless. The minute I wasn't texting back, his hand was shaking to get validation from a stranger.
The funniest part? He genuinely thought he was in the clear because he handed over his password a month later. Bro either forgot he was out here acting like a thirsty Victorian poet in other women's inboxes, or his brain genuinely operates on dial-up internet speed.
I’m not even going to waste my breath arguing, yelling, or listening to the inevitable "b-b-but it was just a compliment!" and "why would I give you my password if I was hiding something?!" rehearsed speech.
I am simply dropping this screenshot into our chat, telling him his "queen" is waiting for him, and blocking his number into oblivion.
Go roam free, Shakespeare. The streets are calling.