Home > Uncategorized > My cold, black heart

My cold, black heart

So, Saturday, during the blizzard. I had dinner plans with a guy friend from an outer borough. I hinted strongly that maybe he didn’t want to come all the way to Manhattan in the snow, but he wouldn’t take the hint and said he really wanted to see me no matter what, and that it was up to me.

Years ago, I told him an irrevocable no, and he seemed to take it well. But when I saw him on Saturday, he said that there was something about me that made him want to take care of me and make sure that nothing bad ever happened to me, and that he really cared a lot about me. It’s very awkward when you can’t bring yourself to say “I care a lot about you too” because you’re afraid of what someone will infer.

It’s no one’s fault that he can talk for hours and hours about things in which I have no interest and that he doesn’t understand me at all. It would almost be easier just to give up and say yes, sleep with him now and think about throwing myself off a rooftop later. It’s not like I haven’t done it before.

So I said “Thank you.”

I’m such. A bitch.

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