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That might've had something to do with answering the door with my hair down. It falls just right, after all I always get more feminine haircuts, but there's a difference between a utilitarian ponytail and letting the bangs fall over my eyes and flow down my shoulders. It also might have been the girls t-shirt that almost showed my tummy when I moved. Or that I was wearing tights.He took it in stride, he most definitely did. He's always fun to tease! Despite being hot as fuck, he was single. Though there was a girl he was interested it. What a shame that would've been, huh? Had to nip that in the bud on the spot.He wasn't shy but it's probably pretty distracting when I kept finding ways to make contact with him. Y'know, borrowing a pen and touching his hand just a bit longer. We were sitting on a couch, but I was just next to him and somehow my hip kept bumping into his. Or that I had just washed my hair before he got there and it smelled sooo nice and flowery. He was trying to be. It was as if she were on television, reporting from some remoteplace by satellite, delivering a report from a foreign country andspeaking on a tape-delay. But I already knew what she was going to say.Like I had already reviewed the written transcript in preparation forthis interview.She had this nice life, she was saying, and she'd put the past behindher. She was sorry, she'd wanted to keep me, blah blah blah, but shecouldn't, she struggled with the decision, don't think she didn't, shecried and cried, but in the end she'd done the right thing, she was sureof it, why just look at me now. I'd turned out just fine, hadn't I?She didn't know the half of it.Well, she hoped I was happy, that meeting her would heal whatever oldwound I still had, provide me with closure, but that she'd appreciate itif we just left it at that. Meaning, I guess, that we left it right hereat the table where we were sitting, among the half-empty coffee cups anddirty spoons and the sad confetti of her torn-up.
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