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Someone Else

Updated on September 18, 2017
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I casually entered the clean-cut, averagely creative home of a great lover and an alright friend.

We kissed, my lips pulling away a tid bit quicker than she would have liked.

So I hurriedly bit her lip with a cute, instigative smile, and said hello.

We talked briefly about nothing, gazing lovingly and lustfully, respectively, in or at each other's eyes, or something.

I wasn't playing games.

At least not intentionally.

I wanted to be there.

I wanted company, conversation, companionship, or collaboration.

She said she did too.

She didn't seem to want to say she cared.

I didn't want to ask.

I don't need answers to questions I can intuitively understand.

But maybe I need distance from opportunities that only partially excite me.

She's... a good person.

Has ambition, intellect, and privilege - a decent recipe for success.

She's damn good looking, with a feisty side the average guy wouldn't guess.

Quite feisty,

Slides nicely.

And if this all added up to something near perfect,

Well I suppose I wouldn't be here writing this.

So thanks to you, someone else,

For listening.


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