The Girl

So.

I'm a pro. I know exactly what to do to attract your kind. It's all extremely meticulous: the height of the heel, the length of the skirt, the amount of makeup, the shade of hair color...

You don't even know there is a trap set when you wander into the bar with your friends. When we make eye contact and exchange our initial smiles, I know you're hooked. I may not be the most beautiful or sexiest woman to have ever conversed with you, but I'll make you believe I am.

The rhythm of my voice, the number of times I laugh, the way I turn my body toward yours, the amount of times my hand sits on your forearm or knee...

My dear boy, you don't realize my actions are all a part of a ploy to gain your attention and break your heart. You see, I am the woman who will make you distrust all women. I will be the example you use to defend your misogynistic actions in the future. After I detonate your beating time bomb of a heart, you will be sure to rip out the hearts of many. You will lay these poor hearts to waste, all in the name of justice.

Or revenge.

Dear boy, I will become your Eve, your precious Delilah, your lady Guinevere. Because I made you love me, you will allow others to fall and purposely not catch them before their frail bodies crash at your feet. You'll simply walk away.

After all, where were no strings -- no pulleys, no suspension, no bungee cord. I hadn't offered you any, so why should you be gentlemen-like to these women you only wined and dined to trick into your bed?

You had a few laughs, and she thinks you're getting serious? Silly rabbit.

Blink, dear boy. You'll see we are not in a bar at all.

We met in a sandbox.

In high school.

In a college frat house.

In the grocery store.

At your brother's wedding.

At Coney Island.

In the hallway of our apartment building.

Dear boy, I am your excuse. It is very nice to meet you. Now you'll never be able to forget or forgive me.

And the funny thing is that I won't even know that I had done anything wrong.