NOT to drive over to your dorm at 2 AM plastered. I’ve learned to be wary of men with dog
photos in their profiles. The dog is a distraction,not an asset. But by god there are so few openly
bisexual men that I swipe right on him, and we match.The message comes not a minute later.
Eli: Could you tell me more about what you’relooking for?
Me: I’m honestly not sure.
Would have to be a really patient person
Eli: I would be interested
Me: Have you gone through something similar?
Eli: Yes
Never told anyone that until now
I don’t know what to say to that.
Me: I don’t know what to say to that.
I’m sorry.
Eli: It’s fine.
We agree to meet, which makes my stomach do cartwheels,which makes my knee
bounce up and down while I sit at my work desk allweek, which makes me use the bathroom a
few times within the span of an hour before the scheduledmeeting time. How romantic. How
attractive.
We meet on campus, in public. The picnic table benchI’m on is cold against the bottom
of my thighs, courtesy of a cold snap dashing hopesof early Spring. I barely feel it, but also feel
it too much. I’ve brought two warm coffees so thatwe will have something to do with our
mouths during awkward silences. My knee is still bouncingup and down up and down to the
point of almost vibration. I trace the grains of woodwith my index finger instead of looking for
him, so he has to say something first when he finallywalks up.
“Mae?” his voice is deep, graveled like he hasn’tspoken all morning. He clears his
throat.
“Hi.”
persephelia
(persephelia)
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