Several weeks after the dreadful pleasure, I saw Darren again, my best fuck buddy. Sexually, we're in perfect harmony. Shame that he's older than me (less than the double of my age, don't worry!) We saw each other quite a lot at some point but we stopped because he had feelings for me. However, he invited me to havet a drink with his friends that night at the bar where he works and lives, and when they closed, he suggested me to wait for him in his room. I was drunk, I took a little shower and I fell asleep on his bed, on my stomach. I was completely gone, completely elsewhere.
When Darren arrived, he jumped on him. I woke up with the conviction that it was the object of my obsession! For a few seconds, I was shocked, with a sentence in my head that was repeating like an alarm sound: "He came back!". And then I managed to turn around and... disappointment. It brought me down for the whole night. Worse, I realised my desires had evolved and that we were not on the same wavelength anymore.
The day after, I behaved, as usual, in a inhumanely cold honesty and I told Darren I was thinking a lot of someone else and that at the moment I realised it was him, I had been disappointed. Once again, I proved myself I'm really incapable of lying and really capable of a ruthless selfishness.
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C'est vrai que tu es relativement dur, mais bon c'est la franchise à l'état pur, on ne peut pas lutter.
J'aime.
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