Little white lies

I was raving about you yesterday to a friend.  She wanted to know all about you.  I told her you were everything that I thought I wanted.  There had been this moment.. carnal and animalistic, where we first saw eachother and I knew I just had to have you.  We caught eyes.  He locked on and kept walking, never faltering with his stare.  I was his prey.

And then I got to know more about you.  I was intriqued by you.  Every facet of you seemed to entice me more and more the more I found out.







Imaginative and childlike.

A man, but still a boy.

And then I met someone different.  I met ~L.

He once wrote me (back in those 3 glorious days that were ours once upon a time):

“As I see your time as valuable and your hands with which you hold the mightier as future artifacts, forgo spending your time with boys. Valor, chivalry and romanticism can best be found in a man. Perhaps I am mincing words, but having spent most of my life as a “boy,” I can feel the difference.”

But this panther, I thought.. I was blinded by as it turned out.  He wasn’t all that I wanted.  He was a facade.

I went out with the panther the day after my magical night with ~L.  For reasons unknown, I said to myself, if I had to choose between the two of them right now, I think I’d…

The panther was a boy.  Childish and imaginative alright.  But not the man I made him to be in my mind.  I needed to experience last night’s moment before I was finally able to accept it.  It was something I’d already known though.

He’d said he wasn’t over his ex girlfriend.  He’d broken up with her around the same time I’d parted ways with the grip.  We’d gone to have drinks with my best friend, and come back to play video games and talked until 6:30 am.  That was Friday night.

Sunday we went out to a movie.  Which turned into “Surprise my roommate and his girlfriend are there holding our seats.”  Followed by dinner.  If that wasn’t a double date, well then I’m  boggled.

The encounters like this only continued to get further romantic in nature, although never physically romantic at all.

We went on a walk through Venice.  Through alleyways of magic and lights, arm and arm.  We made flirty remarks to eachother.  Told stories about our lives.  Poured our hearts out.

I did it because I thought I felt comfortable with you.  I thought that you were genuine.  Now I don’t know.

Yesterday I was talking to a friend about you.  I showed her your picture.  She said…

Oh no.  We were… about a month ago.

For about that same time, you were telling me you weren’t over your ex.  I believed you.  I remained friends because I adored you.  I wanted to be a part of your life.  But now I don’t know what to do.  I don’t know what to say.

A little white lie?

A huge white lie.


I’m glad that I found out, what apparently I already knew.  ~L. is completely right.  I’ve spent too much time on boys, not nearly men.  And now I just wish… and continue to fold my cranes.

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