I thought it was going to be a beautiful dalliance, the kind you see in old black and white movies, brief but romantic, full of champagne, sunsets, and beach walks. At first, it was somewhat like that with a few fancy dinners and upscale venues. But soon it morphed into a measly taco and soda with a tumble afterwards at a cheap motel. It’s funny how I kept lowering my expectations because I felt invested in that handful of sparkling memories and a dreamy cloud of vague hopes, while trying not to notice that the present moments were rushed and tawdry. An insidious disrespect for each other began to creep into our conversations, since we both knew what we were doing was wrong. Instead of a love story, our relationship turned into one of those DTMA columns I read from Dan Savage.
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