I met him at an event, and we became friends. I mean, he approached first, started talking to me, even sat beside me, and by the time the program ended, we had become friends. I started to like him a lot during the time we were talking, and within just one week, I fell head over heels in love with him.

I told Janice about him honestly. I told all my friends, but it was only Janice who was ready to hear all the gist, so I told her everything—reading our chats to her, asking if she thought he liked me too. She would always tell me to slow down, that it was still too early. After about a month, nothing had happened, so I slowly started getting over him.

One day, he suddenly said he was in my neighborhood and wanted to come over. I quickly gave him the directions to my place, and he came. Janice was at my place when he arrived, and the three of us had a good time. I don’t know exactly when it happened, but at some point, they must have exchanged contacts. And then, it was Janice’s turn to be yapping about him all day.

"Hey, why are you talking to Carl?" I exclaimed.

"But you said you were over him," she replied.

I was not happy about that. They started talking, and at some point, they started dating. I was so jealous—I couldn't sleep at night. Janice expected me to be cool with it because, in her defense, I had said I was over him. I pretended to be fine, but I wasn’t. I burned with jealousy, and it was bad, so I stayed away from the two of them.

He thanked me for introducing them. She thanked me, too. I was the only one who was unhappy about their meeting. They created a YouTube channel and became "couple goals" in just a few months.

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Years later, I heard about their nasty breakup online. It was all over their channel, which had since been deactivated. The breakup had escalated into a police case. Janice accused Carl of domestic violence; he, in turn, accused her of chasing him with a knife. The whole thing was messy. Later, they settled out of court and went their separate ways.

Now, I know that I dodged a bullet with that one. But I still feel bugged sometimes—she stole my man and never felt bad for it. That’s why, honestly, I don’t feel bad for her either.