Ran into Old Standby. The one of late-to-Easter-dinner-and-my-mom-is-blowing-up-my-phone fame. I don't even really know him. Clothes on, running into him on the street (it does happen somewhat frequently, I must say), I'm not sure what to do or say. So I act awkward. I say vapid, nonsensical things. Why am I so on edge? Why do I care?
I come across as superficial. But the thing is, that's all he's seeing, the nervous, superficial side of me. I have things to say, I do. Intelligent, sarcastic, funny things to say. But somehow, somewhere along the brain waves, it comes out wrong.
It's not just him, it's just that he's the latest case of this superficiality. And he's seen me naked. If anyone should think you clever or intelligent or interesting, shouldn't it be a bedmate? How did you end up in bed otherwise?
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