As I work late into the night memorizing my poems for this Thursday day poetry event that I’m going to be featured in, he messages me, “The one that has a thing for red heads.”
Messages me on Facebook asking me to drive 45 minutes to go see him. To make out with him, to be naked but no sex, because he’s waiting for marragie. Which I don’t fully understand when I’m bent down giving you head but ok…that’s your forte.
But the fact remains that it hits me, “I am just his warm body pillow.” Because he hasn’t spoken to me in two weeks and out of the blue he decides to message me at 12:15 and see if I will drive over to see him.
And the fact remains he has never driven to see me.