venusless

as i was staring off somewhere i could feel his eyes on me, but i couldn't look at him.

he asked, "would you believe me if i said that i wanted to marry you?"
to which i replied, "yes." (pause)
"i would believe you."
"well, it's a good thing that couldn't convince you to marry me because then i never would have met [my fiancee]."
"yeah. i wouldn't have ever married you. you're crazy. you're nineteen."
"but," he replied, "it wouldn't have worked out anyway. you would have ruined me. you would have been wrong in all the ways that make long-lasting relationships work."
i scoffed. "thanks a lot!"
"it's true! we would have had a lot of hot sex, though. that's for sure," he said.
i laughed out loud until i realized that he wasn't even half-joking.
"that's not very nice. are you saying that's all i'm good for?"
"well, kind of."

i'm too young for that conversation. i guess it's good that i've always said i'm "not the marrying type," because obviously i'm "not the marryable type" either. at least the world and i can agree on one thing: i'm a fickle, fickle whore.