Him: I don’t really want to kiss you. Is that okay?
Me: What? No. No, it’s not okay. You called me up and asked me to make out with you.
Him: Yeah, I know. But I have a cut in my mouth.
Him: My cheek. I bit my cheek. It’s not bleeding or anything, but it was sore yesterday and part of today.
Him: “So.” I’m worried about germs.
Me: Oh shut up. Kiss me.
Him: Can we not?
Me: Yeah. Fine.
Him: Can we just get naked and cuddle?
Me: Yeah. Of course. You’re beautiful. You can have whatever you want. You can have the world.
Him: I just want to cuddle.
Me: Sure. I’ll shut up.
Him: Yes. Please.
Me: You’re supposed to say, no, keep talking.
Him: Who want’s that?
Me: Nobody. Nobody does.
(pause. we are in our underwear. we cuddle)
Him: What’s different?
Him: What’s different? Something changed. Something shifted. What happened.
Me: I don’t know. Sometimes we’re just different people sometimes. Sometimes part of me goes away and a different part comes around.
Me: That sounds stupid. I don’t know how else to phrase it.
Him: Can we just have sex?
Him: Maybe not. Let’s not. I shouldn’t keep having sex with you. You can’t commit.
Me: I can’t commit? You don’t even like me. We have an amazing chemistry but if we dated we would argue non stop.
Me: Because you play games. You say, come make out with me, and then you won’t kiss me. But then you want to have sex. But then you don’t.
Him: I just don’t – I’m a hypochondriac. I worry about getting diseases.
Me: This is wonderful. I come over here and compliment you and cuddle you, and then I leave feeling like bag of Hep C. Thanks.
Him: Come on. It’s not that bad.
Me: It’s not. But it is. I don’t know. Maybe you won’t see me for a month or two.
Him: Are you angry.
Me: Kind of. No.