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SOME MEN THINK WITH THEIR cocks

You know the type Quick s for a nice pair of legs, a set of full tits, or a tight arse they can pant after

Other blokes think too ly careful, slow- their words like they already knohatever they’re saying is going to come back and take a bite out of theut When it clenches with a warning, I act--no hesitation When it tugs and nudges, I pause and reevaluate When it twists and writhes, I know, guaranteed, I’ve cocked up big-tiut is my best friend, my conscience, my ut that drags ives ladly say to ut is brilliant, so idiot

Yesterday was one of those times

"Ellie It’s me--open up, we need to talk"

I sense movement on the other side of the solid oak door--not in sounds or shifting shadows beneath it, but more of an awareness I can feel her in there Nearby and listening

"Go away, Logan"

Her voice is tight, higher-pitched than usual Upset

"Ellie, please I was a twat, I know" I’ from the hallway, but if that’s what it takes"I’er, quick to forgive; she just doesn’t have it in her to hold a grudge So her next words fall like an axe--cutting ht The princess’s sister and the East Auard don’t make sense--we’ll never last"

Did I actually say that to her? What the fuck is wrong within my life that makes sense That matters

But I never told her that

Insteadinstead, I said all the wrong things

I braceto be as near to her as possible "Elle"

"I’ve changed an"

If a corpse could speak, it would sound exactly like my Ellie does now Flat, lifeless

"I want the fairy tale I hat Olivia hascastles and carriagesand you’ll never be able to givefor you You’ll never be able to make me happy"

She doesn’t mean that They’reback inhurts to hear Physically hurts--stabbing deep into the pit ofmy bones I ht now, it feels like I arab the doorknob to walk inside, to see her face To see that she doesn’t mean it

"Ellie--"

"Don’t come in!" she screeches like I’ve never heard her before "I don’t want to see you! Go away, Logan We’re done--just go!"

I breathe hard--that’s what you do when pain wrecks you, breathe through it Then I s bile, straighten up, turn around and walk down the hall Away from her Just like she wants, like she asked Like she screaet the hell out of there, cut my losses and lick my wounds And my heart--Christ--that poor bastard’s too battered and bloody to express anything at all

But then, just over halfway down the hall, utit strains through the hurt Rebels It shouts that this isn’t right This isn’t her So is very, very wrong

I glance up and down the quiet hall--not a guard or a ht I look back at the door Closed and silent and still

Then I turn and ht back to it I don’t knock, or wait, or ask for permission In one move, I turn the knob and step inside

What I see there stops , it sure as fuck wasn’t this