I bought her chocolates

I don’t know what’s wrong with my brain.
I don’t know why I did what I did.
I don’t like it.
I don’t condone it.
I don’t think it was right?
Or nice, or smart, or necessary.

I bought her a box of chocolates.
And thought of things to say.
I handed them over neatly,
And then whisked her away.
I spent all that money,
on a gift that was especially fancy.
I never buy gifts.
People never return those generous glimmers.
I’ve learnt that.
Don’t be kind, or something like that.
Rubs and rolls,
thunders and boils,
In the back of my mind.
But I did!
I bought her chocolates.
I rode home.
I reconsidered.
I thought “fuck it, i’ll keep them”
Then I thought again.
Why would I spend this much money on chocolate for myself.
What the hell is wrong with me.
This was a nice idea.
Be nice.
Full fill your promise.
Your thoughtful idea.
Considerate, appreciative boyfriend.
For all the things she does for me…
Like…
Nothing.
So we went out to dinner.
We split. With me paying the majority and drinking the least and driving the car and paying for fuel. Then we went to a comedy gig.
I bought the tickets.
So it was mostly me.
She was just there as a money sink. And company fodder.
We went home. We snuggled.
It was nice to have a warm body next to mine.
I was tired.
I rolled over and dreamt.
I awoke at 5.30 and went to work.
When I got home she sent me a message.
Her dog had eaten her chocolates.
“oh well, pets”.

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