Pattern

You should know that it’s a pattern.

Details change only in minute ways. Sometimes I’m the new person learning thousands of names, other times it’s you. Either way, yours is the only name I want to remember and my name is the only one you need to know.

I can always tell before we’re introduced that this may be a problem. But even still, I ignore my intuition and steal a glance. A glance which leads to a smirk then to a word here or there and then a daydream and then that’s when I realize that it’s no longer up for debate: this is most definitely a problem.

Can we skip to the part where we don’t exchange pleasantries anymore? Not the fun stuff, but the period after. Fuck the fun stuff. If it was ever worth it, life would no longer make sense. But like I said, this is a pattern. I have lived this many times over and that’s how I know that life, at least how it pertains to us, will continue to make sense.

I CAN’T FUCKIN’ STAND YOU. That’s better. This feels safe.

“Hey, you must be new, I’m [Pattern].”

Shit.