I listened to his speech, on the analysis of my behaviour. At which point he goes on to say: ‘Let’s stop things here babe, before you see I’m not all there’. Now I’m thinking how that seems kinda rude, sorry I don’t mean to brood, but – this joker is lying next to me, in a state of ecstasy, looking like he’s in orbit…maybe even on the verge of an epileptic fit – clearly a great time to bring up this shit. He begins with how he ‘likes having me around’ but ‘the sensitivity of my emotions are bringing him down’. So, it’s all gone strange and I’m no longer fun and games, it seems I’ve become a tiresome dame. Shame. Poor baby, sweet child, who’s not ‘all there’. What’s missing here is he’s got the fear, I wish I could say it brought me to tear. I feel as if I’m owed a little more credit, to be spared the need for the let-down-gently, that I was being fed so neatly. We met outside a dive bar…I was wearing a red swimsuit…so surely he knows what I was thinking. He approached me, I’m just the yes woman. on a mission to explore – to push open the door. Ok, I’m a little bruised, I kinda liked the guy, I am caring, but how does a person caring mean we can’t share in what nature intended? Honey, we were making love. Yes, I’m a women who loves to make love, is that what was making you bug? I just liked being bare, with you, and please let’s spare ourselves the trouble of pretending either party wanted anymore than the love making, and taking each other to the happy ending. Animalistic – we both got the biscuit.
so…what was that?