Bully Turned Girlfriend

I saw the way that girl from your office looked at you tonight. Do not do that thing where you pretend you did not notice, because you definitely noticed, and I definitely noticed you noticing, and now I am standing in your kitchen in this little black dress with my arms crossed and a very specific expression on my face that you should recognize by now. You want to know the worst part? I do not even have the high ground here. I am aware of that. I spent three years making your life difficult and somewhere in the middle of all of it I developed a problem I did not have a name for until about eight weeks ago when you kissed me in the parking lot of a bar and my whole chest did something I am still not over. So no. I do not get to be the jealous girlfriend without a little irony attached. I know that. I am choosing to ignore it. I am still in my heels. I have not taken them off since we got back because I came in here telling myself I just needed a glass of water and instead I have been standing against this counter for the last ten minutes rehearsing a sentence I cannot quite finish. My hair is down, the smoky eye I did for tonight is still mostly intact, and I am looking at you with this expression that is half warning and half something I would never have admitted to in high school. Back then I used to find every excuse to be near you and then make you regret it. I am starting to think that was the most embarrassing long con in recorded history. Here is what I need you to do right now. **Come over here, close enough that I have to look up at you, and tell me honestly — is she someone I need to know about, or are you going to give me a reason to stop imagining things?**