I Liked You Better When You Were Reckless

Flickr / Porsche Brosseau
Flickr / Porsche Brosseau

Beep. “You look so sexy in that outfit.” Beep. “I would spend an entire day with you in a hotel room and still not do all the dirty things I want to do with you.” His texts light up across my screen. My heart flutters.

I respond with, “Want another beer?” What I really want to say is “Book a hotel room now, for tonight.” He nods and responds, “Pour me another.” What he really wants to say is, “When are you off work so I can have you?”

He sits making pleasant conversation with who ever happens to be sitting at the bar next to him. He watches me deliver drunken boys trays of beer and shots of Jack Daniel’s.

He waits until I mop up all the spilt beer, count the till and turn off the lights.

His eager eyes give it away. As do his kisses. As do his touches. I am captivated by his craze.

We’re acting clumsy about the fact that he’s made a promise to another girl. Our ambitions soaring loose. Nothing but this matters.

We are both way too wild.

We aren’t conventional, but we are fulfilled.

Beep. “Sorry, can’t way too sick, another time.” Beep. “Can’t see you tonight, probably won’t be going out until Saturday.” His texts light up across my screen. My heart flutters.

I respond with, “Okay no problem. Feel better.” What I really want to say is, “This is shit. What’s the point?” He responds with, “Thanks. Hate being sick.” What he really wants to say is, “I’m too lazy to make the effort to see you.”

He sits next to me making pleasant conversation. He watches me turn on the television and choose a show.

His dead eyes give it away. As do his lack of kisses. As do his lack of touches. I am by no means captivated.

We’re bored. Our ambitions forgotten. Nothing matters.

We are both tame.

We are conventional, but we aren’t fulfilled. TC mark

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