wine whine wine

"so how was your evening? i feel like i've been talking about getting laid all morning."
fucker.
"oh please, like i ever get sick of hearing about you get a hot load in the face."
"good. i wouldn't want the conversation to get stale."
"with you? never. how could i when i have so much to learn from you?"
"learn? how?"
"learning about how The Other Side lives. You know, hot people."
"you have a low opinion of yourself."
"ah, child, it's realism. grounded in the understanding that you wouldn't think i'm hot so... you know, just filling in the gaps. plus self depreciating humour is my favourite."
"but do you actually think you're ugly?"
"yes of course i do."
"i wouldn't... say..."
"don't feel like you have to lie to me."
"no! fuck... you make it really difficult to give a compliment out."
"it's not a compliment when you have to search time and space to think of something relevant."
"you didn't let me finish!"
"at this point i'm just going to say everything that comes out of your mouth is bullshit."
"Forget it then."
"already have!"
silence. the wall of fury circulating around him. i know full well he likes to hear himself speak and doesn't appreciate getting cut off. i understand it too since people that trim my elaborate tales down make me want to punch them in the throat.
he dragged his mug on the cement for a few wobbles and looked up.
"saw Paul on my way in this morning. did he stay over?"
"mmhmm..." my stoned eyes would mask the onset of misty damp eyes.
"why do you keep bringing him over when you're so hell bent on hating yourself after?"
"i love hanging out with him."
"love it so much you're in a horrible mood after?"
"at the time i love being around him. it's just when i'm curled up in a ball on the other side of the bed listening to him sleep that gets me upset."
"that's even worse! you let him share a bed with you and you're that broken up about it. don't you see how fucked up that is?"
"ah DUH it's fucked up. what would i torture myself with if i didn't do stupid shit like that?"
"so... you've never fucked?"
"no."
"not even a kiss?"
"nope. nary a peck, cuddle or suck to be had."
"and you think he's the best guy in the universe?"
"not the best... but the one i want to be with."
"how can you even think that this guy is a match when he doesn't want to sleep with you or do anything but be a pal?"
"because i know him and all i want to do is be beside him."
"ew, that's corny. you're just being condescending to me."
"i wish i was. no, this man is smitten."
"how many years has this gone on??"
"four? five?"
"do you think this sabotaugues any flexibility in you finding a guy who wants to be with you?"
"terribly! no, let me change that response to overwhelmingly."
"have you ever TALKED to him about how you feel?"
"sure sure. i got hammered and messaged him one night about 3 years ago and barfed it all out on the keyboard."
"And...?"
"and he said he didn't find me attractive or interesting in that way."
"owch."
"indeed. owch. but i'm not going to turn away a good friend just because i'm a fool who gets fixated on things. most of it's my inner only child having a lengthy tantrum that i can't have what i want. i'm insistant on having what i desire."
"wow. i just didn't think you had it in you to carry a torch for someone that long. you're so chilly and indifferent to humans as a whole."
"i like suprising you."
"sheesh.... roll another one please."