I am absolutely besotted with him, he is charming, and manipulative, and glib. I am wholly delighted with him, he is worthy of being taken home to meet the family, this would be just such a welcome, wanted dream. I am absolutely enamoured with him he has, with haste, pulled the wool over my eyes, my darling, I am obsessed with him, won’t he let me take him home with me tonight? His attentive glances, his wide smiles, his hands, how they gently gloss over mine, his soft-spoken introduction, his brass, hearty laughter a welcome contradiction, he taught me his bliss from the flicker of his wanton tongue which spoke shapes in vowels and oohs that would make any woman come undone. His pronunciation anything but a contrivance at the time, he certainly got his reaction, his sympathetic looks when I told him how complex it was in the all the manners in which I had been broken, his promise of how he’d fix things with the superglue from his heart, my sweetness, how clichéd he is but how endearing is his enthusiasm to fix this broken women not as a project but restore me as a work of art. Perhaps I have misjudged this man who sits before me, open and seemingly honest, listening to my stories, head cocked gently to the side, a sign of listening carefully? He clasps my right hand softly, with eyes widened, sympathetically. I cannot help feeling safer now, that perhaps this is not manipulation but genuine care and concern, who he really is, there might be much more to learn, just as I have so much to reveal whilst we rest upon bar with elbows, sipping our drinks and getting to know each other’s worlds, maybe he is right for me, let’s throw caution to the wind, a casual visit home soon to the family, let’s see what my loved ones have to view, assess, and tell. © 2020 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved. Photo by cottonbro from Pexels
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