Remember when I told you he still liked me? I was wrong. We were sitting in his car on the fourth of the July after spending all day together. It was two thirty in the morning. I went to kiss him, and he turned his cheek. I asked him, “you don’t want to kiss me?” and he shrugged his shoulders and said, “I think just friends. I think friends is best.” I paused, and thought of course, the signs were there. But there were mixed signals. It wasn’t just my infatuation for a summer romance. I guess I was suppose to ask him why, but it felt desperate and inconsequential. He just wasn’t into me. Anything he said, I wouldn’t believe. I would believe something even worse, and does anyone tell you the truth? The truth is as I sit here with a heavy heart, he is relieved, happy, it’s probably the best he’s felt in two months. He doesn’t have to spend anymore time with me, see me ever again, even though he still owes me three hundred and sixty dollars. Yes, I really did lend someone five hundred dollars that I knew for a month and a half. But I don’t regret it, I was happy to help, it’s who I am. I helped make his first show happen. And maybe years from now, even though he told me once that he never looks back, he will be reminded of me in some way, and appreciate my kindness and generosity. Because I am, kind and generous. I have to believe that.
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