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“Can i spend the night?”, he asked, as he was washing the dishes for me. It was a simple question, yet i couldn’t give an answer. Something inside me didn’t feel right. “Well?”, looking over to me. “I don’t know.”, i replied. He turned the faucet off. “What’s wrong? And don’t tell me it’s nothing because i know there’s something.” All i could do is look down in shame. “June! Talk to me.”, he demanded, beggingly coming over to me, placing his hand over mine. “It doesn’t feel right.”, i sprouted to my own surprise. “What doesn’t?” “Us, this thing we are doing right now.”, i angrily replied. “I see. So the actual answer is a “No, i can’t be with you tonight”, right?” he asked, looking at me with puppy eyes. I immediately stood up and started walking towards the living room: “You annoy me! Stop being so sweet. It’s unnatural. It’s not you. And exactly because of this i can’t answer with neither a “yes”, nor a “no”. I don’t want you to go but at the same time i can’t stand the way you are acting right now. Cursed love!” I let myself fall on the sofa and of course, a few seconds later he appeared. “So, you don’t like it that i’m in love with you.” “That’s not what i’m saying. It’s the way you act when you are in love that is stressing me out. Just don’t be sweet.”, i said, trying to clear the misunderstanding. “So you want me to be mean then. Treat you like i don’t care about you. Is that is?”, he asked. I placed a hand over my eyes: “I can’t. I just can’t anymore.” A few moments passed and i heard the front door of my apartment being opened and then slammed shut. He had left. Why does it always have to be black or white with men? I needed to calm down so i took a bubble bath. Coming out of the bath, i heard him screaming my name from across the balcony. As fast as i could, i opened the door: “Stop screaming my name, you lunatic! You have my number. You could’ve called or knock on my do… “, he interrupted me. “But i did call you. About twenty times.” As i looked at my phone it showed twenty-two missed calls. “Oh, you did. Twenty-two times.”, i looked up from my phone to him. He was smiling. “You’re crazy. Come over to talk or fuck or whatever. I don’t care anymore.” I turned my back to him and went inside, grabbing a book and snuggled between the pillows on the sofa.

Two hours had passed before i noticed that he didn’t show up. I called him: “Where are you?” “Look outside your balcony.” He was smoking on his balcony. I hung up and went outside. “What are you doing?” He raised his cigarette. “Smoking a cigarette, obviously.” “Weren’t you suppose to come over?”, i asked with a somewhat annoyed tone. “That was the initial plan, but then i decided to go for a walk to clear my head. After i came back i felt like sitting here to enjoy this beautiful sunset and smoking one or two or… ” He looked inside his cigarette pack. “Fifteen cigarettes.” It was already dark outside. “Are you even trying to kill yourself?”, i asked ironically. “No, what i’m actually trying, is to understand how you managed to metamorphosize yourself from that sweet light-bringing girl, who was afraid of opening her front door to me, into… this.” He pointed his cigarette at me, waving it up and down. He added: “Did i actually manage to fuck your brains out or was there no love or attraction from the very beginning?” He leaned back into his chair. My blood boiled. If i had a gun, he would have been dead two phrases ago. No point in exploding now. I kept my cool and answered: “After hearing that rhyme of yours, i decided to give up on writing and chose love instead, or what i thought would become love. So i unshackled from my self-imposed control and the fear of impending madness. Even in the past with other men, i never enjoyed that teenage lovey-dovey Christmas, New Year, Easter, “Hey, come meet my parents” and… what am i forgetting? Oh yeah, the Valentines Day shit. So if this is what you were expecting from me, then i’m sorry to disappoint. That’s not me.”, i replied calmly, having a sense of triumph. “You could be kinder.”, he etched on. “And you…”, my voice became thunder, “…could be more of a man! Not a boy, clinging to his mother’s robe, asking for attention and appreciation every time he feels too insecure and uncertain about the influence his own emotions has on others, which in your case is almost permanently!” I stepped out of my balcony, slamming the door and breathing in and out deeply. He must be thinking that i’m a bitch now. Five seconds later: “YOU FUCKING BITCH!”, could be heard in the night. Nodding, i whispered to myself: “Well, that was close enough.”


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