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Maybe I shouldn't have. But you're still a douchebag.

Sometimes, I seem to recall these little memories tucked nicely at the back of my head, at the most inopportune moments. Y'know, those aforementioned tucked away memories that, when unboxed, lead to that "ah, so that's what it was" moment.

Cos there I was, minding my own business, going my own merry way... When I absentmindedly noticed the messy queue of people.

Glancing at the long line in front of the sushi joint, I correctly guessed that it was that promo again. Why would anyone want to eat at that lousy-ass sushi place anyway? And then I vaguely remembered the last time I stepped foot into that place. Oh well. Tucked that memory back. Shrugged it off.

And that was when the aroma hit me. That fresh, oven-baked scent. Butter and chocolate chips. When was the last time I had those to eat? I remember leaning against the railing, waiting. And then... You, holding out to me a little bag of that freshly baked stuff.

That was probably something you don't usually do, I suppose. So maybe, I shouldn't have. We're both adults, but one of us has the maturity of an adolescent. Yep, that's me. The other has the maturity of a 4-year-old throwing a sulking fit. Yep, that's you.

You can't blame me if you didn't do anything, and didn't plan to do anything. So, you couldn't - and didn't - blame me. Instead, you did whatever it was you did.

Granted, I suppose one part of me knew what it was. And what I was. So okay, maybe I shouldn't have.

But you're still a douchebag.