Web sites like SomeoneLikesYou.com are wrong. In their privacy policy, you will find the following language:

Importantly, although SomeoneLikesYou collects and retains the information provided by the user about those people on theuser's secret list, we do not sell or market the email addresses, or any other personally identifiable information, of any unregistered user to any other third party.

We may sell or rent the email addresses of registered users only.

Of course, the only way to know who has the crush on you is to register and give them a list of e-mail addresses. Then those people have to register and so on and so on. Then SomeoneLikesYou.com turns around and sells your information.

Look at it this way: just because SomeoneLikesYou.com won't sell "personally identifiable information," there is no language in their Privacy Policy that states "We won't honor requests for all of the e-mail addresses we have for men between the ages of 18 and 24 who play video games and enjoy walks in the park." Even if you opt-out of receiving their messages, they still own your information and can still sell it.

And to the person who added my e-mail address to SomeoneLikesYou.com: I'm sorry you don't feel confident enough to just come talk to me. Hiding behind pyramid-scheme marketing ploys is not going to win you many dates, especially not with me.

Also, you probably know that I have a girlfriend. We have our difficulties like any long-term relationship, but I love her dearly. Perhaps that's why you are hiding. I would suggest that you come talk to me and tell me of this crush you have. Get it out in the open so you can deal with it instead of harboring it, letting it eat you up inside until you sit at home, humping a pillow and eating frozen pizza in front of the television, all the time crying and pining away for my hot body. The lust will consume you until it affects your job and you get fired from your job and you can no longer afford to buy frozen pizza, pay your cable bill, or wash your pillowcases. The only thing that fills the void left by your unfathomable saddness is smack, and soon you are robbing liquor stores to feed your addiction. You get evicted from your home and are forced to walk down North Avenue and earn your drug money in the cabs of so many 18-wheelers. And then you'll contract an STD and then you'll die.

Neither of us want you to throw your life away. So just tell me flat out that you have the hots for me. I'm flattered, and though I cannot return your love, I can care about you enough to not let you turn into a heroin-addicted whore.