Self destructive behavior.

I met Jake over a year ago. It was the same night I met the architect.
I could have had either of them. But I chose the architect.

Second chances happen for a reason I am told.

I caught his eye as opened the door. He smirked and walked towards me.
Do you remember when we met last? I asked. Indeed, he replied.

Later, when he held my hand I didn't protest.
When he kissed me I didn't pull away.
When he asked your place or mine I said get in my car.

Sometimes, well most times, nice houses, fast cars, expensive wine,
fancy dinners, presents, security, stability, predictability are too
much in the way that they could never be enough. I realize that
genuine love cannot be faked, or bought, or replicated, or one-way.

For the past few weeks I couldn't understand that while everything
appeared perfect I felt so miserable. But it was because I was trying
to make myself feel and believe in something that was not there. I was
being pushed into a situation that was not my design. I was being
asked to be someone I am not and pretending to be that girl was
tearing me apart on the inside. I was suffocating slowly while someone
was trying to give me a life I was not ready for. Nice guys don't
finish last, they just get married. And I'm so far from marriage that
any reference to cohabitation, running errands together, and putting
up picket fences makes me run the other way.

This time this girl needs a smoking, drinking, dirty talking kind of
guy who would rather just see you naked. And right now, that's all I
need.