Midas

It’s not working out again. Before we left for dinner, I kneeled over my best friend and blew a raspberry into his stomach. We’re playful. We’re “comfortable” with our intimacy the same way Midas was “comfortable” with the fortune that ruined him. I pressed my tongue as deep as I dared, then made Andy tell me that he didn’t want to be my boyfriend. Sometimes I get confused, so it’s good to have reminders. We did it call-and-response like a corny game show while I wiped my spit from his belly. What don’t you want? What don’t you want? That night, I played text roulette in our DMs. Text roulette is when you write daring things and hover your thumb over send. What if I can’t want anyone else? Could you love me then?