Destitute Illusions

Him: Are you hungry?
Her: No, I had something to eat. So go ahead, I’ll just have a smoke.

Him: Should you be smoking after what happened?
Her: No, but I’ve been doing so anyway. This is funny.

Him: What is?
Her:  This whole situation, you know…

Him: No I don’t, tell me.
Her: This whole thing where you are my knight in shining armour, the whole hero thing.

Him: It’s not like you’re in any state to take care of yourself, you know.
Her: No… You’re right. It’s pathetically adorable and what’s worse is you still keep trying. I have one thing for you; you might as well direct your feelings to a brick wall.

Him:  OK, I’m gonna fix myself a drink.
Her: Sure, get me one too.

Him:  OK
Her:  Anyway, why do you keep coming here?

Him:  Because I worry about you.
Her:  That was rhetorical, by the way. You’re like a doormat.

Him:  A what?
Her:  A doormat. You’re always there, ready to take the dirt of my shoes and because all you do is just lie there, I think of more and more ways to get dirt on my feet so I can watch you take it all in.

Him:  I guess I came at the right ti –
Her:  – and what kills me is the fact that you never have anything to say when I tell you stuff like that, so you do this whole silent thing – which I can imagine is you feeling hurt and you don’t have the guts to tell me I’m being insensitive.

Him:  You certainly are in a good mood.
Her:  Then again I take it that when you’re in love or care for someone you’re ready to take their shit, am I right?

Him:  You really need to get out.

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