I started lying to myself.
I can’t tell you exactly when this practice began.
It was either that or trying to communicate more, but to be perfectly honest I’m sick and tired of getting lost in translation.
I like you because you’re easy to understand.
Plus you’re not totally automated which is a huge bonus for a man like me who prefers the do it yourself approach over the wait around until someone else does it for you approach.
If these words prove to be ineffective I’ll go hide in the corner praying everyone forgets I was here or was ever even born.
My parents tell me I was planned which I find rather surprising considering my life up till now has had no blueprint and for escape hatches I’m afraid even those have long been wallpapered over.
Thinking about calling it a day.
Thinking about eating a cherry cheese Danish and drinking a glass of Coca-Cola.
I’ll settle for the latter and wish I’d done the former when all is said and done and the laundry is brought in from the clothesline.
I like her freckles and her emoticons.
I was going to give her my cell number and tell her to call the next time she couldn’t fall asleep but didn’t want to give her the wrong impression or maybe I did.
I’ve never stopped telling myself exactly how it is.
I can tell you the precise moment the light started to shine and a dark night of the soul was placed on permanent hold.
Writing is not an exercise for me nor is it a hobby or something I take lightly like riding the Silver Beach Carousel or swimming in the great white shark infested Atlantic Ocean.
When realizing deceit and treachery were her idea of foreplay that is when I should have run for the hills and never looked back.