I paid to skip the queue and still got dry lines. Ping looked like hope. Statement looked like warning. Company should not need a subscription.
Tag: apps
A good morning. A song. A nearly. Then silence for three days. I am not starving. I hate being fed in teaspoons by a coward.
Everyone worships chemistry like it is proof. Sometimes he is just nervous and I am performing. Slow burn is less sexy. It is less fake.
We swap memes and late voice notes. Nobody asks what this is. The talking stage is just two people auditioning without agreeing the job exists.
Hinting is not mystery. It is cowardice with better lighting. I would rather a blunt no than a man performing confusion all week long here.
Sometimes it means he has sense. Dinner with a stranger is tax. Meet, clock the vibe, then spend. A cheap soul shows later, not first.
If you want sex, say sex. If you want me, say that. Lets see where it goes is a man keeping the exit door oiled.
Same number waiting. Still I open the app again. Hope is a stupid habit. So is thinking some random transfer is about to appear tonight.
Say casual. Say dating. Do not hide behind we will see. I can do filthy and still want a sentence that does not wriggle away.
Anyone will touch me in the dark. Fewer will hold my hand by the bus stop. That gap tells me more than those late texts.