I asked if he was willing to hang out.
He said, "Yes. How about Sunday at 8? Is that too late for you?"
I said, "Yes, it's too late. I need to get home at a decent hour."
He, "How about 7 then? 7 good for you?"
I replied, "Yes. it would be good. I just want to hang out. I'm tired. I want to chill."
He said, "Yes I'm good for that. I'm a very chill person."
"Where to meet up?"
He answered, "How about my place?"
I hit the reset button. I had no desire to be anything more, anymore.
I missed the beginning, when I hung onto every word he said, every email he wrote, every glance he stole. He and I had great potential. He was kind and loving. Our sex life was mundane, but passionate. I could melt by the way he looked at me. I was spoiled and adored. He checked in with me and he wanted me as much as, if not more than, I wanted him.
We exchanged lengthy emails. He took great pride in his emails to me.
We created memories no other boyfriends and I ever did, in such a short period.
Then something happened, and just like that, my heart was hurt, and I felt numb and the next time we spoke, I was cordial and distant.
When we reconnected, he was surprised, and went into the same habit of familiarity. I didn't know how to make of it, but I felt more complete when he was in my life, even though, he was no longer my lover, my boyfriend, or anything remotely like that. He was just a friend, who happened to be a man, and I was to be in his life, like another friend, who he once perhaps felt intensely about, and then it ended.
Just like every relationship before this, and just like every relationship after this.
He said, "Yes. How about Sunday at 8? Is that too late for you?"
I said, "Yes, it's too late. I need to get home at a decent hour."
He, "How about 7 then? 7 good for you?"
I replied, "Yes. it would be good. I just want to hang out. I'm tired. I want to chill."
He said, "Yes I'm good for that. I'm a very chill person."
"Where to meet up?"
He answered, "How about my place?"
I hit the reset button. I had no desire to be anything more, anymore.
I missed the beginning, when I hung onto every word he said, every email he wrote, every glance he stole. He and I had great potential. He was kind and loving. Our sex life was mundane, but passionate. I could melt by the way he looked at me. I was spoiled and adored. He checked in with me and he wanted me as much as, if not more than, I wanted him.
We exchanged lengthy emails. He took great pride in his emails to me.
We created memories no other boyfriends and I ever did, in such a short period.
Then something happened, and just like that, my heart was hurt, and I felt numb and the next time we spoke, I was cordial and distant.
When we reconnected, he was surprised, and went into the same habit of familiarity. I didn't know how to make of it, but I felt more complete when he was in my life, even though, he was no longer my lover, my boyfriend, or anything remotely like that. He was just a friend, who happened to be a man, and I was to be in his life, like another friend, who he once perhaps felt intensely about, and then it ended.
Just like every relationship before this, and just like every relationship after this.
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