Fuck dude. No wait, that is all you want. You want to fuck me. You don’t care about me. We work together, sure, but we’re hardly friends. Friends talk when they’re not fucking or trying to fuck each other. They go out and do stuff together. But you don’t want that. All you want is my body. You want me to please you and are upset when I refuse.
Maybe I lead you on. But everything is so secretive. It’s hard to get a clear word in on what my feelings are. You have code words for sex. I know what they are and I don’t respond to them. But I don’t think you pick up on that. I guess any response responds to those cues in your eyes.
Here’s the truth: I don’t want to fuck you. I don’t want you to fuck me. All I want is friendship because I do enjoy talking with you. But you won’t let it be just that. You drunkenly text me about my ass or that you want me to come over and “watch a move.” Bullshit. I know what you want. Tonight you tried to drag me out of the cab we split to go to your place. No. I told you. My friend is in town and we’re doing a lot of stuff tomorrow. No, I’m not doing that. And what, you just get mad? You think you should take priority over one of my closest friends of four years? No. I met you a month ago. We work together. You are not important in my life. Sure, I might mistakenly fuck you when I’m drunk. But that doesn’t mean it’s going to happen again just because you want it to. What’s the point?