So. You're a lesbian now? Was I one of THOSE guys? The ones lesbians always talk about in disgust when they sometimes try to qualify their .. conversion? Did I weigh upon you with sweaty indignation, indifference and self - focus. Was it all about me? Did you make it that way? Was I clumsy? Young, dumb and full of cum? A blind ox in a cabbage patch, A bull in a china shop? Did I force my pleasure upon you. Was it a one way ticket? No, I was never one of THOSE guys.

Did you love yourself before you tried to love me?

My hot breath on your wet skin; did it accumulate and suffocate you in a smoke filled room of confusion?

Why didn't you just admit the truth in the first place? To me, to yourself?
Why experiment with agony? Why not just say no to one thing and yes to that which you truly desire?

If that bothers you, let me know; I'm a man and I can handle rejection. Just don't equivocate.

If it's any consolation, you can always come back; clothes still look good on you. At least, they look the way they should. You've got all the right bits in the right places; I mean, parts is parts, right? I suppose that's too terrible an imposition; meeting my criteria.

Why did we use love as a metaphor for just plain fucking, anyway? Where's the love in you calling me at 230 A.M. and saying:
"I'm not going to sleep tonight. Wanna come over and get slippery together?"

I mean, I was born to fuck you, but did love really have a part in it all? Doubtful.

Everything I say is overstated.
Everything I say is overwrought.
Everything I say is overrated.