deep water

didn't go out with number two. clearly. it's fucking twelve-fifteen and i'm here writing to you. how sweet.

'have to move really slow. deep water' he said. you mean you are deep water? or i'm in deep water. is that the same as being in hot water? 'no, i'm deep water. have to move really slow. you're like a little creek.' oh you think so? i ask. i don't think you have any idea. 'oh i know. i'm good at figuring people out.' shit, well since you've got me sorted, maybe you can explain me to me. 'sure, i'll explain you. someday.'

oh sweetie you have no idea. look at you making the same mistake everyone makes - taking what you see on the surface to be the sum of who i am. do you know how long it takes to get below? do you have any idea? i never thought you, of all people, would underestimate me. i think that hurts more than anything. interesting, though. it maybe gives me the little piece of contempt i need - the little piece of contempt i usually find beneath the blankets of another man's bed.