Do you remember when we first met?
I asked you a question, remember?
"Why are you late?"
And mischievous imp that you are, you told me you had gone to HR.
Only now do I realize that I might as well have been a damsel in distress, asking a knight in shining armor, why he was late.
I’d been beaten up and left for dead before you came. And I thought I WAS good as dead. Until you came. Until you found me.
Do you remember the second question I asked you when we first met?
That’s how I picked you up.
Do you remember?
I asked, “are you, by any chance, bisexual?”
You probably were too shocked to speak, when earlier you’d been talking a lot about this ex of yours.
I thought you were gay because real men don’t talk about exes.
But it disturbed you, so it stuck.
So girls, it does work.
And that’s how it all began.