This is how I met my right-hand man: when I was sixteen, I met a boy who could read me better than anyone else I've met, before or since - better, in fact, than my immediate family. Well, I figured at the time, if he's going to read my fucking mind anyway, I might as well just tell him what I think.
Socially, you could imagine him as a guy with the eye of a master craftsman but whose only tools are - on the one hand - a wood chipper and - on the other - a sledgehammer.
"So I like this boy," I said to him today. "He's kind of... Open. I don't smell any calculation on him, and it kind of makes me let my guard down."
"Yeah?" He says.
"Yeah," I say. "I don't meet a lot of boys like that."
"I've never seen you let your guard down with a boy," he says.
I say, "--You haven't?"
He says, "I'm a man. I've been to war."
I say, "You know what I mean."
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"I'm a man. I've been to war."
?? I don't get what he means. But you do. Is he saying he likes you?
Then you say, "You know what I mean.."
So basically this is an example of chick logic? You let your guard down around this guy you like, just because you like him, and you don't know why you like him so you make up reasons for it?
Did you happen to catch the recent NY Times Magazine article on female sexual desire?
Would be FASCINATED to know your thoughts on it.
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