hugo again because of course
02.02.20 | 3:52 am

tonight was... odd.

we went out for our birthdays. we drank a bit of wine in my tiny apartment, and then we went to the bar down the street.

and i know i said i wouldn’t talk about hugo anymore, but... of course he was there.

and we were cordial.

and he kept looking at me.

and when we were in line at the bar, he made me jump by bending down and asking me a question when i didn’t expect it.

and when i was standing with my friends watching the band, he was standing, alone, very close to me, only one person in between us.

so i had a good time being with my friends at the bar, talking, drinking, laughing. and then we decided to return to my apartment to eat the tarte citron that angela and olivia made.

we ate, listened to music, and at 1am, decided we’d go back out to the bar to look for the others.

so we do. and the others aren’t there. but hugo is.

and he comes up to us.

starts speaking in french, and then when olivia - the frenchy among us - stated that we were all foreigners, he said, “ah oui, je la connais.” i know her. me.

he invites us to walk across town to a club he knows. we concede. start walking together.

we talk a bit. and then we don’t.

and we arrive at the club.

we dance a bit. you close to me. and then we move apart. and closer together again.

i continually say to my friends throughout the night, “i don’t understand what’s happening.”

and then you go out to smoke, come back, sit on the couch next to me in the chair, and you just... don’t talk. not really.

and then we decide to leave, but you’re nowhere to be found.

so i go back in.

i say, “on part. bonne nuit.”

and we leave.

and you stay.

what the fuck was this?

did you realize my friends had to stop by my apartment again before they left for real? did you realize that might make it more difficult to fuck me? is that all you even wanted out of this night?

the answer, of course, is probably yes.

i don’t know why i care.

but my feelings are hurt.

what did i expect?

that you’d come over, that i’d say i didn’t want to fuck, that we’d just talk for hours and then fall asleep in each other’s arms?

when in reality, what would’ve happened is you would’ve walked in the door, taken my clothes off as soon as possible, and gotten to it without a word?

this is so stupid.

i feel so stupid.

you’re twenty-four and it fucking shows and i’m way too fucking old for this shit.

i don’t know why i’m so enamored, si interested in you. but it’s not doing me any favors.

this was a strange night. confirmed by all of my friends.

just strange.

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