It was a weird night, it was a good evening.  We met on Tinder, you were sweet. Ton français n’était pas très bon, mon anglais faisait pitié. On se comprenait pareil dans notre conversation bilingue étrange qui ne ressemblait plus vraiment à grand-chose. Tu avais décidé de quitter ton Alberta natale je sais plus vraiment pourquoi… Je sais même pas si j’avais vraiment écouté ce que tu me racontais. Je ne me souviens plus de grand-chose sur toi. We saw each other for the first and only time at Berri-Uqam, went to eat mexican food. We had so much things to say but were so awkward at the same time. Both shy people. Decided to go for a beer after the lunch, to continue not talking together, looking at each other awkwardly, not knowing what the other one wanted. You smoked, I didn’t really at this time mais je sortais me les geler avec toi, parce que je suis gentille comme ça. You had beautifull eyes, thats what I remember about you, your eyes. And your smile. You smiled like you were in love.  I loved that. I love feeling loved. That’s probably the only reason why I took you back home this night. Cause you weren’t really my type. To ‘’good guy’’, to ‘’Canadien’’.  We went out for you to smoke, I didn’t took my vest cause I wanted to feel the cold on me. It was something like Febuary or March, when it’s still cold but not to much. Still a little bit of snow outside. The end of winter, when you search someone pour te réchauffer un peu en attendant le vrai printemps, pour réussir à survivre les dernières nuits froides de l’hiver.  I was cold, so you told me to come closer to you. You took me in your arms, kept me with you under your coat. It was warm and comfortable. I would’ve stayed there for hours.  You gave me a kiss on the head, so I looked up, to smile at you. You just smiled, touch my cheek and kissed me. You kissed really good. On est resté vraiment beaucoup trop longtemps comme ça, dehors, à s’embrasser au milieu des gens qui fumaient. Comme si on était seuls. Comme si on était amoureux. On était beaux.

I took you home with me. Cause I wanted to be loved. Cause I wanted to love you. I was in love with the idea of love. Wasn’t a good idea tho. Mais je l’ai fait pareil. 2h de bus interminable. Tu étais beaucoup moins beau, beaucoup moins intéressant, beaucoup moins sexy quand tu n’étais pas en train de m’embrasser. Tu redevenais trop ‘’Canadien Anglais’’ trop ‘’good guy’’.  We fucked for like a minute. It was a minute to long. Weirdest fuck of my life. Didn’t know if you were hurt or liked it. I think you cried. Maybe you were in emotional pain. I don’t know and I’ll never know. But when you finished, I just kissed you, waited for you to fall asleep and got up to take a long and hot shower. Just stayed in there. Realizing what I just done. Realizing that I really fucked you and that I wasn’t interested in you at all.  Not the first time I did this, not the last either, but this time I really felt bad. I don’t know why. But I felt like I did something really bad, like I’d hurt you more than I could think. I’m sorry sweetie if I did. I’m really sorry.

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