My friend says I need to stop imagining what it feels like to be Pumkin ("What's the chance he will be really devastated?") and just tell him it's not going to work out.
So, yeah, another Saturday, a week or two later, we're supposed to meet again. As it draws nearer, he sends me txts about how much he is looking forward to seeing me, and I am kind of cringing, but I tell myself it could be OK; if I don't do it I might miss out on something (his OKCupid profile is awesome, of course,t he didn't mention anything about bad breath.)
He comes over and I spend the day watching him smoke pot and eat my lorazepam. When 6 pm comes around he passes out on my bed. He wakes up around nine only to go outside and smoke another "bowl". The next day he tells me he is sorry and "what a lousy date I must be", and I am too lame to say "yes, motherfucker, you are," instead I say "nah, it's OK, you had a headache...." He asks if he can see me tomorrow night to cook me the meal he was supposed to have cooked the night before, and I say yes.
The next day I txt and say something's come up. Some people think I am an honest, straightforward person, but I am still working up the courage to say "this is just not going to work out, and for fuck's sake, stop using 'poop' as an exclamation."