Look at the poor sap, sitting on the front porch. The Dead on the radio, half a pack of Marlboro's and half a beer on the armrest while he reads Thompson's "Hell's Angels". But He's not really reading, not with her swirling around in his head like a hurricane. He asked her to go to the baseball game tonight, but she said already had plans to go. That rot gut instinct told him it she was going with Bill. "Easy" His mind told Him, "sometimes she goes with her cousin and his girlfriend". He knew it instantly, however, after the last text about Pink Floyd wasn't responded to. Pink Floyd is her Kryptonite. She never responds when she's with Bill. She can't, she tried once and he broke her phone. "Fuck it, time to go to the store for dinner" His hunger told Him. They've only known each other for about two months. Met on Tinder, of all places, after both of them swore they would never use something like that. "We're normal people after all". A few text messages and a week later, they met. He was hooked. Her smile, her laugh, and those Bud Light blue eyes pulled him in. Her taste in music was impeccable to him, and his to her. He swiped right because of her Floyd shirt. She, because of the Dead shirt he was wearing. Over the next few days everything seemed to be heading in the right direction. Conversations got deeper and longer into the night. She had some things to deal with, personal issues. And Bill. But he was undeterred.. He'd never really met anyone like her before. He'd dated girls with the same tastes in music and personality, but never one who looked into your soul when she was looking at you. Never one who made the whole room disappear for him when she spoke. Whether it was ordering a beer or a conversation about the Braves. He was captivated.
He made a fatal mistake, He showed his cards. No longer did he have the upper hand. He slipped one night and sent a 14 year old love drunk teenage girl text message. "You make my heart flutter when I know I'm about to see you" or some such bullshit. However it was a lot better than whatever Bill sent her when he knew she was with Him. "I just don't think I'm ready for a relationship right now" She said. They had talked about it previously and had agreed to take it slow. He accepted what she was saying, but there was no way He was going to let Her go without a fight. He pleaded, "I'm sorry, I know that I shouldn't have said that. It just came out. We can go back, just two people hanging out with no pressure and no expectations". It worked. time was bought, and things returned to a semi-normal state of affairs.
Trivia was played, beers were shared on the very patio He's writing this story from. She was short with Him sometimes, but He understood why. Or at least He bought Her reasoning because why wouldn't He.
He took a different route home from the grocery store tonight. The chicken is in the fridge. The half pack Marlboro's and 6 pack of beer have disappeared, and Her car is in Bill's driveway.
Sorry if that was rambling. I'm not a writer by any means. I needed to get that all out and I found this prompt. So, there's a slice of my actual life.