We meet, we have a casual conversation, and we fuck. You tell me we could see each other the following week and I think that’s great. I try to meet up with you for three weeks, but it seems your schedule is incompatible and fixed. You always end up promising that the following week will be the one, so I stop trying on week four.

A few months later, I find our long lost WhatsApp conversation and I text you to know how you’ve been since you vanished. The conversation triggers certain comments and ends up in me showing my absolute immaturity, according to your very own perception of things.

So together with my lack of maturity, I took in your masterful know-how and your gift for words and I learn brush-strokes of modern semantics where you teach me that “I’ll see you next week” has converted into “I’ll see you around”.

Additionally, the endless wisdom of your acting skills has helped me understand the branches of language, since “I’ll see you around” actually means “we won’t see each other ever again”.

Grateful, I hope I’ll mature thanks to you in the near future.

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