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"I think I love him."
"I think you're sick. Rat-a-tat-tat... Is anyone home? I think you just said the equation to why you're still alone."
"But I could be his everything."
"You've never even spoken to him."
"Technicality, technicality... I can... ... ... And, I will!
"Start slow Red Corvette. Men don't want to be married before you both say hello."
"This will be different. He is a different kind, more mellow. I can feel it. He'll know I'm the one without one word leaving my tongue."
"Oh really... Don't you think you're selling yourself short? Chasing after love so hard. You look like you're..." "No, this guy is different. I can see it in his eyes."
"Yeah? What color are they?"
"That's what I thought. From 20 feet away you have no answer because you can't see them clearly. So tell your lady parts, hush, you're sounding stupid, not smart."
"No, I'm really not. I'm real with you. I won't sugar coat a raw deal. I'm not trying to make light of how it is you think you feel. If you knew him, I would speak sweetly of your romantic words. But of all of the above that I have heard of you perception of this love, it's foolishness I hear souring up my ear. You think quick. You speak quick. For once just think it over a bit."
"Why don't you believe in love at first sight?"
"I never said I didn't believe in it. I might if the situation was right. But do you hear the words that flow freely and quickly from your loose lips. Words that activate the free-flowing stream of your loose hips. The word Love is for someday, the right day, after you've said "Hello" day and know his name day. Okay?"
She was a wildflower that sat outside the windows of my soul and a woman I couldn't control. So carelessly she screamed for attention. She wore her continual heartache on more than just her sleeve. It was her constant, relentless want... ... ... No, need. She was at this point, no surprise because she was she. My debutante. A friend of many years, many fears, and a river of tears. She was beautiful and by her own doing, on display, for all men, in an alarming unnerving way. She was, as she drunkenly would point out, "chasing down a train routed for suburban, responsible, structured, controlled, wife-life". How she got there she did not care.
"Tick-tock, tick-tock. My uterus is demanding. I grew up poorly without love. Please be understanding."
"Everyone has a rhyme, reason and/or excuse for the decisions they justify as remedies for abuse. You're trying to rush what might not be right and the outcome may be more than you can fight."
"You're always so negative. I don't know why I bring you along. You always sing the sad song to bring me down. Just let me go."
"I have. You cried. I wiped away you're tears. I've been sitting here all these years. I let you be you but it's me that you come to when your world turns blue. You ask me along because you know I'll come and never let you fall flat. I mend together your pieces every time with my own tact. But I can't say anything about the fact that it's your sad song we've been playing all along."
"If what I am doing isn't giving me what I want, then what should I do, oh please, oh please tell me, magic all-knowing love guru."
"You mock. So I'll walk."
"No! No! Don't go!"
I was a tractor trailer and she a fawn on the road. I couldn't help myself from blurting it out but I could see it put her mind into overload. All was silent as she sipped through her cocktail straw. No more eye contact or words to be said. Not a single one... at all. All her drama had been put to bed. It was at least an hour maybe more before we headed for the door. She was thoroughly wasted using my body as a crutch as I brought her safely to her front door, my debutant lush. Much like I had done many times before, I stripped her of her guise and wiped the make-up from her eyes and put her into bed kissing the top of her head... and then left.
The next day she didn't call. Nor the day after that. My words stopped her act and my words I wouldn't take back.