Intentions

“I just don’t know what your intentions are. Like, if you have my best interest at heart or if you have some sort of agenda.”

I’m texting with my quarantine boo, and I am really, really pissed off at him right now. Mostly because, um, excuse me, is he questioning my god damn intentions!? What the fuck! He’s acting like I’m some sort of snake woman who only has bad intentions in her heart. I mean, he’s right, I definitely only have bad intentions, although not necessarily for him, just in general. My entire personality is built on top of my bad intentions, so I figure that he’s started to pick up on some of my more malicious personality traits. Fuck. Did I lay it on too thick? Was I too much of myself? Should I have pretended to be nicer and more naive?

Ugh. My agenda. Huge eye roll. Who the fuck dares to say something like that to me, of all people. I’m the queen of agenda. Of course I want something out of him. Mostly because I’m cynical and understand the transactional nature of romantic relationships. But it’s not nearly as bad as he thinks it is. All I want is to be fucked right and told that I’m pretty. He probably thinks I’m a man eater, which I am, but I’m the good kind of man eater (I think) and not the one that is going to break his heart and take his money, which he honestly does even have enough of so why would I scheme to take a couple thou? He needs to *calm* *down.* Is this going to hurt? Why, yes, of course it’s going to hurt, human relationships by their very nature are hurtful. But I’m adept at the art of human relationships, so it’s not going to hurt any more than it has to. All he has to do is trust me. And once he trusts me, damn straight I’m going to do whatever the fuck I want. But, don’t worry, dear reader, he will have a good time, too.

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