7:45

Before we meet up this evening, I answer your call as I reach for my heels…

You need to talk to me
About
‘your needs’ and I wonder
exactly which nerve of yours
made the decision to show up to the party this evening

Where is it located?

Is it behind your eyes?
Black pupils slowly contracting as your blood pressure rises, gathering that the response you were hoping for simply doesn’t exist.
Not in this room.
Not with me.
In stead, I present you with a slight smirk as I lay back on my couch with patient amusement.
I witness your eyebrows furrow realizing that these precious needs of yours
have now turned into nothing more

than your left hand
and
the dot com of your choosing.

And as I reach for the softest blanket I own, sliding the heels off my soft feet, two thoughts run through my head
much like the sweat running down your face
I question, in unison
Which sweatpants will I be wearing this evening
and
exactly
What your next move would be

Because i truly wonder

I wonder
how you plan to spin this.
Thin strings of imaginary logic
Pink with charm.
Blue with uncertainty.
Cotton candy threads
meant to dissolve before I could taste the desperation

I glance around the room
just to verify
that
I am,
in fact,
the only one here
because who precisely do you think you’re fucking speaking to?
it certainly can’t be me…

And so i do a double take

I turn behind me to see only the shadow of the curves of my silhouette and the flickering of my favorite candle on the wall
I take a deep breath and sink deeper as I enjoy
The front row seat
of the reality show
that is your slow disappointment that my body will never be touched by yours.

Ah there it is!
The nerve
I found it
Sitting, pulsing in the middle of your forehead
Splitting your desperation open as you attempt to backpedal the bicycle of your entitlement
Your “needs”
Slowly morphing into nervousness as you hear my heels hit the floor
and I start to think about
what will take the place of the dinner you had planned
You know the one
The one that ends with your ‘needs’ being met

Pizza… YES…
Doordash expands

I get distracted and you notice
”Are you still there?”
I laugh…
you don’t
Oh no! Did I hit a nerve?

I must have, because I see it… pulsing harder, faster, more prominently as you tell me that I don’t have much longer before you start to “make choices”
Putting other women above me that will, in fact, meet those precious little needs of yours
willing and wanting to relent
moments pass as I let your regret hang onto your last attempts

I don’t interrupt…

With relief, I listen and slowly unzip the back of my dress
Ahhhh
Oh, you’re still speaking?
Sorry, please continue

Don’t mind me as i minimize your face
And add garlic bread to the order

Within these lines of hilarity, allow me to be perfectly clear
Access to my body isn’t, and never will be determined by any nerve that pulses
for any reason.

I thank you because I had already gotten my cardio in for the week, and was simply just a little too tired for your theatrics
and
As fun as this has been, I truly need to go
which is great for you too, no?
because you have phone calls to make…right?
dialing and texting the roster of women waiting with baited breath
tight dresses, pinching heels
and prayers of meeting your oh so special ‘needs’ this evening

Ugh, you’re adorable but again, I really should get going

I, once again apologize for laughing at you
and in final amusement, I watch that blue nerve of yours pulse for the very last time



”Thank you for your order!”
Should be there by 7:45….

Fantastic