There's nothing to encounter when we're counting on the house of cards to fall, fall, fall.

Before we had reached the sand, he asked me if I was satisfied.  He said, "no one ever really checks in, you know?  And I am, but I just want to make sure you are."  I never know how to react to questions as absurd as that one.  Of course I'm not satisfied in a relationship.  So I said, "yes, absolutely," because the conversation that would have ensued if I told the truth would probably have brought an end to things that are - more often than not - satisfactory.

We stopped before the water where he gave a long-winded explanation for his behavior, then he asked my advice and I could think of nothing to say.  On an interest scale of one to ten, I was at about a two.  I was sitting on the sand, watching the occasional boat drift by; and he could not hold my attention.

It's unintentional, but whenever I catch myself giving an unreciprocated lot, I am scared into regression.  I wonder what happened to my drive, my ability to persevere, that reassurance that says a storm doesn't last forever.