We’re young and we’re alive and we have feelings that should not be tamed. There’s no question, there’s a reason we met tonight.
We’ve shared a few drinks and I think I’ve known you like forever or maybe from a former life so yes I do know you cos you’re Funny Smart Smoking Hot and you know me so fill in the blanks don’t take any time cos you know YOLO.
Now is enough. You feel it too? See, I knew you would.
We’ll go now, my place. It’s what people like us do: live in the moment, seize the day, follow our feelings, let things be as they may. We’re young, we’re hot. Let’s make love!
That done, it looks like we might have something here. Shall we now really get to know each other? Yes? Yes. Hurray!
Second date, where I learn you believe in nothing and I in too many things. But we can’t keep our hands off each other under the table, so it’s okay; we are our shared belief. Your family is small but tight and so you want to recreate that, only bigger; mine is too large and I hate the noise and I won’t... We make a silent agreement not to get ahead of ourselves, that a compromise will come.
Next time in bed I realise that you intend to keep doing that thing with my feet that tickles, and not in a good way. But everything else is fine. Except that I hate that you let me pick up the cheque so often. I think your friends are rowdy and pretentious, you say my best friend is a snob. But they all say we’re ‘good together’. And so we are. Good together. It doesn’t matter that you seem like a different person whenever we’re not alone, or that I have to make you into one when my family asks about you. But at this point we’re sharing a flat and a bed and we need a mindless escape… So, sure, let’s make love.
Fast forward a few weeks and I’m ready to admit it: I don’t like you very much. You feel the same way about me, I can tell. We don’t talk; we don’t even fight. We navigate around each other, timing our schedules so we never have to meet. Like polite strangers, when contact is inevitable we say please, thank you, excuse me, far too much. Even in sleep we’re awake to the invisible line that divides our bed. Do Not Encroach.
We know we’re done; we’re just marking time now. One of us will have to make the move, say the words that will free us to go out and do the same things over again, with different people this time, thank God!
But for now, while we wait…
Let’s… have sex?