Even Robot-Hearted Minxes Get Fucked Over

Dear Disappointment,

Congratulations you got under my skin, made me reveal myself, got me to like you. How very clever. You managed this while also getting me to eschew all others and patiently wait for you because you were most definitely, totally ready to leave your current squeeze. There were just a few hiccups, minor details that needed to be resolved but I wasn’t to worry about them, no, they were mere formalities and if I was just a tiny bit patient it would all be worth it. You, would be worth it, you promised.

You just needed to extricate yourself.

I said no. I said I had others I wanted to play with. I said come back to me when you actually are free. Waiting isn’t what I enjoy, waiting holds no guarantee.

But you’re very attractive, what you said was attractive what you offered was – covetable. And every time you came back and asked, my resolve faltered.

How could it not?

You were funny and kind. You were insatiable for knowledge about me, and nothing I said scared you. You learned all my friends’ names and all about my family. You were my brand of easy sexy – not my usual type, I go for dark hair but I liked you anyway – this new departure.

With your liberal open mind – I liked your politics, I liked that you had politics.

I liked that you had a brain, that you weren’t scared of me, happy to challenge but never berate. Calm. Level headed. Sure.

The opposite of me in a lot of ways. But portrayed the same in the important ones.

I didn’t stand a chance.


You called when you said you would, you called for no reason. You called when you were out with your others. Displayed all the right milestones, made sure to tick all the right boxes. It really was well executed, this chase of yours. And what willing prey I became. Offered you my throat.

And so I got attached; I became accustomed to it – the attention, the care, the feeling important to someone? I got drunk on it. I got high. I got addicted, a blissful Icarus. Unaware.

I got used to being cared about, I got used to being thought about, I got used to being considered. It’s so seductive, so pervasive. Started to see why this was so popular. It’s not easy to let someone in, to allow them to care about you, well, not for an independent like me. But you managed to do it slowly, got into my veins so that I didn’t even know how much you had taken hold.

What a mistake.

What a surrender.


I see now with clear eyes what I was. A fantasy; somewhere to run away to, to forget about whatever you needed to hide from. I was an indulgence, to be consumed. I hope you enjoyed it.


But I won’t beat myself up for too long, so what if I believed you, so what if I wanted what you were selling – what does that make me? Nothing but human. Vulnerable. Optimistic?


So please, stay with your safe lover in your safe life. No experience is without learning, I will lick my small wound and soon I will be better. I will know myself better and I will know you, wolf unknown to himself, when I see you again in sheep’s clothes. I may be foolish again, I will certainly make mistakes again, maybe even this exact one.

But not with you.


Don’t worry, nothing’s broken, this will leave no visible bruise.



And by the way, I checked with Debretts and your silence as well as being inexplicable displayed a shocking lack of both manners and common decency. Both of which I would have thought you able to afford me given how much patience and understanding you were happy to take from me.

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