You’ll never see it coming because I genuinely like people, and I’ll genuinely like meeting you. I’ll show up at the bar, late, and you’ll think that I’m pretty. You’ll probably be a little nervous and maybe not quite know what to say. You might say a little too much or just not enough, but I will smile and I will order a drink that surprises you and I will ask questions that keep things interesting. I’ll be disarmingly charming but blunt, which will make you feel like it’s somehow a different kind of date. You’ll talk free-flowingly because I’ll ask you specific things, things you’ll find you enjoy thinking about and sharing because maybe no one has asked you before. Certainly not on a first date.
You’ll never see it coming because I’ll say yes to a second drink or switch to water while you have one. I’ll share food if that’s what you want, and I won’t be looking for an immediate exit strategy. I’ll keep myself positive & keep learning about you. I’ll also tell my own stories and maybe check my phone periodically. I’ll use it to respond to texts but also to show you things – a photo on Instagram or to google that movie you’re talking about. So it’ll feel like it’s bringing us closer.
You’ll never see it coming because I’ll let you come over. I’ll probably have to please myself while we sleep together, but I generally like sex and that will be obvious. So you won’t be any the wiser that this is not amazing for me, that it will not be memorable. You’ll kiss me and touch me, and I’ll return the affection on autopilot because it’s what I do best. I’ll smile happily when we’re finished, and you’ll think that our chemistry is special. I’ll let you hold me as we fall asleep, or I won’t, but I’ll be endearingly apologetic, and you’ll attribute it to a quirk, a vulnerability that I’m choosing to share with you.
You’ll never see it coming because the morning won’t have changed my demeanor. I’ll be sweet, and maybe we’ll have sex again, maybe we’ll grab coffee together. I’ll be unabashedly myself, walking around naked or in your clothing as I get ready. I’ll do my makeup in front of you and sing along to Taylor Swift. You’ll feel like I’m letting you in on a secret, a glimpse of my life that makes you wonder if our morning routines might someday merge. When it’s time to part, I’ll kiss you goodbye. You’ll say something like, “I had a great time with you,” and I’ll say something like “You’re okay,” but my playful tone will make you grin.
I might respond to texts after that, or I might not. I might go out with you one more time for good measure, but that good measure never turns into real feelings. I won’t remember the funny jokes and genuine laughter, or the moments of connection that we shared. No – instead, I’ll remember the minutes of haziness before falling asleep next to you. Having finished from thoughts of another guy. Flashbacks to a different set of adoring eyes, caressing hands, and warmth in my little twin bed. Realizing that maybe those ghosts will always be with me, but also knowing in my heart of hearts that they’ll be indefinitely chased away with the right person.
I’ll be gone, and you’ll never see it coming.