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One day she'd look back on this day and really remember it. It was the night she rubbed her researching eyes and finally opened them.
Her natural inclination had been the usual - to castigate herself and take the punch first.The sun was setting again. It was Day Two of 2026, and she was going to write about him again.
She couldn't understand how she had been so all over the place. The thought that brought her back to reality is one that her second Ex helped her with "you either accept this, or you leave."
He was not physically attractive to just anyone perhaps, but she thought he as the most beautiful of men. Who knows, maybe he was attractive to others. Her sister's only comment had been "he looks intense."
He was intense. He suffered exactly zero fools, and she was quite the flitter.
"People don't realize how serious you are when you talk." was one of the first things he said to her when he met her at the Globe. She loved his style. She loved his not giving a single fuck and his earned confidence.
It had been a long road for her from placeholder rumination to here. So, she was a placeholder. Fuck it. So, he played on the apps to not feel so trapped with everything, fuck it twice. The only way she was going to be in his orbit again is to understand that this is how he is.
His head glowed in the candle. She loved looking at it. She didn't have really any fotos of him. She had written a fucking scathing piece when she had been so butt hurt, but he really was the life of the party and had so much of a Leon Appreciation Society.
This happy robot had seen so many things she had written about him. She was so tired. What was she trying to say here?
She loved his bounce. She loved his boundaries. She had flipped the fuck out when she imagined he was chatting up other girls to play. The truth of it? what was the truth?
He was awesome. He talked to her so much with no words. His presence really was a compliment. She understood now.
When she had been so confused and what the fucking, it had been mainly at - yet again - her mother's instigation "why won't he let you meet his friends. he must not really like you."
She had spun him a cocoon. He may never touch her besides specific ways, and that made her happy. She wasn't doing this correctly. She was trying to write this to say that she saw him. He was completely complete exactly the way he was.
The measuring cup, the whisk, the meat beater, the baseball, the Roku, the knives sharpened...
She had flipped the fuck out, and now she understood. This wasn't going to be like anything she had experienced before. He was unique. He was ... look, when she really felt in to what she had done by sending him her voice - she didn't regret it - except maybe feeling bad about the satire - but when she really sat in the "oh fuck, you've lost this man. you will never be in his world again."
She realized that she didn't care about labels. She didn't care about position. She didn't care about the fucking hi-lo. She just wanted to be with him. And she understood the deal now.
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