Good Guy
Night, Sophie.
I freeze when I see my name. Partially due to panic. And partially because my clit is suddenly throbbing. A stranger typing my name shouldn’t be erotic. But it is. What the fuck?Maybe I’ve been reading too much dark romance, and it’s warped me.
How do you know my name?
Good Guy
Your profile. Is it okay if I call you Sophie? I felt like the insta-friendship had morphed into actual friendship. I’m so sorry if I overstepped. I didn’t mean to scare you.
Goddammit, I’m never smoking again. I can’t think straight. Of course, he knew my name. My profile reads:
Sophie she/her
I’m an idiot. And I tell him so.
Sorry, I’m an idiot. The friendship is/was both insta and actual, of course, you can call me Sophie. I feel like the polite thing to do is ask your name, but is it okay if I want to call you Good Guy for now? I just went through a breakup, and I feel like I need the reminder that good guys still exist.
Good Guy
Better he’s your past and not your future if he wasn’t good for you.
I read it twice before I respond. He’s right.
I think future me is going to realize this was a wake-up call in many ways. Present me is still a little lost.
Good Guy
I’m sorry if you’re sad. Breakups are never fun.
It’s hard to nail down an exact emotion because it feels like they’ve all been dumped into a washing machine that agitated aggressively, rinsed briefly, then launched into one helluva spin cycle, but sad, strangely, is not one of them.
Good Guy
If grief is a washing machine, then the spin cycle is the final stage. The storm before the calm.
I needed that reminder. Unless there’s a second rinse cycle. Because MORE spinning.
Good Guy
What kind of stain did he leave? Are we talking grass? Red wine?
Shit.
Good Guy
Shit stains only require a single rinse. Hang in, you’re almost there. Seriously, I know we just met, but I’m always here if you need to talk.
Are you a therapist? Or do you just play one on TV? You’re good at this.
Good Guy
Far from it. Just a guy who’s been through some stuff. Same as everyone else.
Well, thanks. I’m really going to let you go now so you can get some rest and I can sleep off Bruce Banner. Until tomorrow, night, Good Guy. Sleep well.
Good Guy
