The Back Burner

"So, I guess I should tell you this... I feel like I'm obligated." Every ounce of blood in my body rushed to my face and I was hot. Sick nerves crawled through my stomach. "We went out last night and [LDC] was there and he brought this... girl. This Laura girl. This blonde, idiot... I just don't understand his choices. She was ridiculous and she was talking about how much she could drink. He was... well, I mean, I guess he was talking to her but he wasn't really that interested but the night went on and you know, she was trying to make her move. She put her hand on his thigh and then he took her back to his parents' house but apparently they only played pool. So. I don't know."

He had sent me multiple texts that same night, one specifically at 4AM my time that said he was crashing. I knew (or guessed...) that this girl did not spend the night but who cares? Her hand on his thigh. Her name was Laura. I felt so sick.

The kicker is that I was with someone that night, too. I met a guy who was nice, but young, haughty, native New Yorker, a little schmoozy. I was not in love with this guy but I let him buy me a drink, I let him hold my hand, I let him kiss me. So while LDC was letting a girl put her hand on his thigh I was letting some guy do the same to me.

When anyone asks me why I continue this I tell them it's because I like talking to him. "At the very least, we're great friends." "He's lonely, of course he'll hang out with other girls." I say it and I hear it and I don't believe it. So why, why, why do I let it continue when it has no future? Because sometimes being on someone's back burner is better than being on no burner at all.