The Worthless

My nervousness made me too blunt, too harsh.

He startled at the question, his scowl conveyed, surprise? No, anger? Disgust? I’m bad at this game of emotional judgement. As I’m unable to determine if his berating me about my incompetences is a deflection or actual concern.

He rambled about who he was as a person, trying to change my mind. And then back to yelling about how little I know about the world. Which clearly thrills me to the core. And steadily I become closer to being done with our conversation via force.

I’m once again disgusted by him.

And then suddenly interested again.

You see, I feel drawn to him. Maybe it was by the chase? To uncover what he is made of. If my disgust at his words are genuine or if he deflects because he knows I judge everything he says. Is that all that makes him clever, his ability to deflect my interest?

I shouldn’t have told him. I had sat on these feelings for so long though, not knowing if they were true. Every word he says blurred by the unknown. The constant questioning if how I feel about him is real.

How was I going to face him in public now?

I could see him trying to figure it out, trying to place my wants and desires. What answer would make me happy, content for at least a while so he could weigh his choices.

That’s the funny thing though, I don’t know what I wanted.

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