Pick Your Poison
I’d sworn off brilliant men and their very particular academia-equals-intelligence biases, but this man’s banter was exciting, which is always my weakness. The conversation was fast-paced and wildly tangential. I liked that he said he was charmed by me, my wit, my intelligence. I’m just kind-of-maybe, I guess, having trouble not being slightly irrationally (or not!) terrified by the fact that his last three relationships have ended with a stroke (hers), a terminal disease (hers) and a permanent bodily injury (his).
Hi Sweetie!
You presented me with so many choices, each beautiful alone, but disordered on a platter. Still, I’m willing to take a bite. But as I lift you to my lips I wonder if your blossoms–presented so innocently–are edible or if I’ll choke.
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