Monday, October 03, 2005

 

quiet

When I saw the boy on Saturday, we were pleasant and artificial. I picked up, we saw the movie, and I brought him home. 10:30 on a Saturday night, and I didn't even ask him if he wanted to go out drinking, even though our standard modus operandi is not to pack it in until at least 2.
And I'm not even sure why I just drove him home and let him get out of the car. Maybe it's because I'm mad. Or because I'm trying to follow his rules of clinging less. Or because my roommate was there, and she was not really that thrilled about being stuck between us in the first place.
Or maybe I was just afraid if I did ask, he'd say no, that he preferred to just go home.

And letting him go so quick, without anything, made me so sad. And I doubt it made him sad at all. Is this what I'm supposed to be doing? I don't know.

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