It is better to sleep. Tossing and turning does nobody any good. What’s more, staying awake means dealing with my new friends: the cough and cold. Staying awake means freezing on the floor of a friend’s house. Surrendering to sleep lets me travel a little.
Unfortunately I am awake after some abbreviated sleep, my mind travelling just round the corner. I keep replaying the scene in my memory; how it went, how I had hoped it would go, and what ensued. I knew as soon as the words illuminated my phone screen: “we need to have a chat”. I expected it would happen; I was wondering when it would slither in and was prepared for it. I didn’t think I had anything to lose; wasn’t in love, was just having fun really. It was probably my pride that was left tainted anyhow, because I knew that regardless of how much fun we had, we were just passing the time till you returned to him. Even if you said you didn’t trust him. Even if you said you didn’t see yourself in love with him. It doesn’t hurt but I guess in spite of my preparation, some small part of me hoped that you wouldn’t choose. Some small part that wondered if it was possible you would want anything to do with me in the first place. I guess I hoped we could have fun for a little longer. But hey, we can still have fun. Just not the same kind we had between the sheets. After all, we are just friends and friends don’t sleep together. Friends don’t want to kiss each other.
It’s always the chat that destroys things; things that were already broken but just need to be untangled and revealed, like bright daylight bouncing off the pieces of a smashed clock.
Even avoiding having “the chat” as I tried with a previous partner, it just doesn’t work. Why do we call it the chat anyhow? It’s not actually a chat but rather an ultimatum, much like bringing an enemy the terms of a treaty. One party makes demands, the other has to accept them or walk away. Sometimes it is smarter to walk away.
For the record, it was fun. It only existed in the darkness of your bedroom and now the recesses of my mind, but it was fun.
Thanks for the ride and the lesson. Back to the floor it is! And no, that’s not a guilt trip, it’s the truth. Truth is i am writing this on my mobile phone, under cover of a sleeping bag. Does the truth matter? Probably not. After all, we create our own truths and write our own narrative. It’s just some truths are more inconvenient than others and the reality of using people to our own ends doesn’t really stop.
Like you said, he became jealous and seemed upset when you mentioned me. On my side of things, I guess I had a chance to see if I had charm or whatever you want to call it (not like that means anything) and I got a chance to sleep with someone who actually didn’t mind my gender status or the absence of putting effort behind romantic behaviour. Of course, that didn’t last long; I am back where I started.
Glad to have been of service, ma’am. I would say if you need me, you know where to find me, but I don’t think you will require my company any time soon. Stay safe. Time for me to bow out graciously before I trick myself into thinking I’ve become rather attached to your lips in any way. I would be lying if I said I didn’t want to kiss you anymore, but what are either of us supposed to do with that? It’s not exactly a basis for scrapping the potential of happiness with the other guy just to hop back into bed with someone like myself: unstable, fickle and generally what you could call emotionally inept. Not worth it. Not for a few kisses more. Not for wolf boy, anyhow.