Bartenders

I wish I could lie…No, I really don’t.

You fell too easily, and it might be too late to turn you around, but you understand where the door is located, where you can make a graceful exit. And it doesn’t matter if I watched you sleep for half an hour. Your chest moving up and down, your feet twitching back and forth. Are these things I could learn to love?

I don’t know.

You’re not as pretty as the last one; you’ll never be as pretty as you should be. But you’ll find love before I do because I’ve got a bad habit that shows no signs of breaking. And I don’t know how to fix it. I tell myself it’s okay. I tell myself a lot of things.

Tell me all your worst habits. Tell me that you love me.
Don’t tell me anything. You’ve got a body, and I’ve got needs. That’s all we need to discuss. Before I’m disgusted.

I’m almost sorry the cards were stacked against you. Almost. But, truthfully, this is good enough, even if I never see you again.
I would never lie to you. And I won’t say it if I don’t mean it.
I could never love you.