I barely shut the door. They wanted job, bill, and whether he sulked after. Dating is public now. The jury lives in a WhatsApp thread.
Tag: situationship
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.
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.
Five opinions, three voice notes, one screenshot. By the time I text him I am not me. I am a committee in a tight dress.
He replies just enough to keep me warm. Never enough to make a plan. Benching is the new ghosting with better manners and worse timing.
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.
The practical bit was easy. The sentence after was not. People handle a condom and still panic at do you like me. That is everything.
Giving it time is grown. Stretching a maybe for months is not depth. Some people call it patience when they just enjoy the attention buffet.
Vulnerability is treated like an ick now. I joke instead. Then I want to say it in daylight and my mouth does that stupid freeze.
The chase was fun. Then I texted first in daylight and the spark died. Some men only want the me that leaves at dawn anyway.