This Guy
I didn't want a boyfriend but there's this guy named Guy who
keeps calling me like he's addicted to losing, as if he wants to date himself –
sort of like how a lesbian falls in love with herself and blames it on other
women. I don't know what is worse,
waking up early to go on a job interview or walking through Bryant Park wanting
to see myself walk by and brush my arm, rushing to get in the merry-go-round
line. I want to see the self I never really got to know that well before
leaving to go to work. The man with his
head on the park bench just about to open his eyes and see the sky in the
reflection of a puddle is not the guy who keeps calling me but the guy I want
to get to know. The guy who won't ever
have a girlfriend picks up pennies in the middle of the street on a date that's
not really even a date is Guy. The guy who I need to learn to say no to instead
of having coffee with and answering questions that have answers like, "I
cuddle with my wife," is Guy.
— Nicole Santalucia