Wednesday, June 17

Her and I, and the mountain

I said all these fancy things, and they were meant to come out like a joke. Like I'm being charming, like I'm impressive, like I'm an interesting human being.
It all sounded like bullshit from her end. Can't say I blame her.

Over time I began to realize that I'd built the whole thing up like Everest or something. I set up base camp upon tales of an awkward boyhood and poorly delivered compliments. I dreamed of escalating up high towards trite physicality, two hands touching with the safety turned off and reaching that ice cold peak. The shortness of breath that'll surely come with being at such a high altitude and the pace at which I'll have to move.

A mouse makes its way across bedroom floor as we talk, I hope she doesn't notice.

We spin some more yarn and I'm dreadfully aware of the cadence of my voice, all too concious about the way my words fall out. I chase her eyes a little as the gaze trails away from me. Interest fades a little, then flickers out like a light.

I hear a spring click back in to place and a mouse trap flip over. We get up and leave, I tell myself better luck next time.

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