Dating: Boundaries and Endings, One and the Same Sometimes

“I knew this would happen,” he says, “…and you wouldn’t want to talk to me and we’d go to dinner and you wouldn’t look at me and then we’d be at the concert and you’d …”

“Stop. You need to stop. You’re making up a story.”

“But that happened. I came to your apartment and you didn’t …”

“…we’re talking…we haven’t gone…anywhere.”

“But you’re not…”

“This is ridiculous. I’m done.”

He follows me.

“What are you doing?” I say.

“Walking you to your door,” he says.

“Nuh-uh, this is over.”

“Thank you for saying that,” he says seriously, “Thank you.”