Date the dad

My all-time favourite god has three sons, and sometimes I wonder which one I would date.

Zeus strikes me as a jock, so I’d rather not. Besides, he is the manwhore that impregnates everything that moves. Poseidon abandons you after a one-night-stand. And there is Hades, who gets the leftovers of what is no longer relevant.

Sounds familiar?

Eventually, you’ll choose to go for dinner with their dad instead because you prefer someone you can talk to. He happens to be the only one who really knows you. You fall in love when he says,

“We’re like parallels.”

You swallow the lump in your throat and knock over the wine glass. Are older men less likely to hurt you?

The sound of broken glass resonates in your ears; it vibrates inside a healing wound or splits your brain in two.

I’m tired from this headache. I can’t sleep in a bed. However, dozing off when on the train or sitting on the staircase at work seems to do the job. That’s when I risk having my cigarettes stolen.

Yet, I love the sunlight, but I’m more awake when a set of halogen lights shines upon the white sea. When I swim in the white sea, I seek love and freedom.

Free love, yes!

Consolidation. Warmth.

I don’t want to be scared of that warmth anymore, even knowing that it will one day escape me because I care too much. That’s why he left.

To avoid that, I’d rather not feel the warmth at all.

One gets tired of how things slip away.

Replacing fear with indifference is coward. But how else do you protect yourself?

“It is easy to ignore the rain if you had a raincoat.”

I just want longer foreplay. That’s how two people get to know each other. It’s all about foreplay…

BUT IF YOU SAY WE’RE PARALLELS, IT MEANS WE WON’T EVER MEET!!!

Fuck!

Forget this story.

Bin it.

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