My pride won't let me do it.
I was surprised when I heard your voice. I'll give you that. Unfortunately for you, that's where your assumption and my reality go off on different tangents. The reason I was willing to let you ride with me, go get a drink or two, is because after what happened, I wasn't upset. I'm sure your "my shit don't stink" attitude led you to believe that I was hurt, or even saddened for a minute. At best, I held my breath for a second... and that's it. You have to understand that the degree of your attractiveness is overwhelming only to a lesser minded man. I was fascinated by your potential, but that's as far as it ever went.
I'm sure that you have your theories about why I pulled back. I can already hear you trying to convince me that I shouldn't feel resentment or anything... and honestly, I'd fight back laughter if you gave me that speech. Truth is, you don't interest me. You, your delightful body... it's nice to look at, good to touch, but, I've had great girls in my life... far more substance, even more attractive ones, even though I'm sure you think you're it. I'll chill with you anytime. I'm comfortable. You did what you had to do, and I respect your honesty more than you know... but, I'm not one of these primitive cats you like to date. You're not enticing, and even on the nights where I'm full of lust... I would never hit you up for that, as much as you may be willing. As a matter of fact, it gives me a certain satisfaction that you can only wonder what if, as you hear stories from your girlfriend about how "intense" my sex was.
What is sad is that when I first met you, I saw you as more than a fuck. I searched you for far greater things, and I truly thought you were inspiring. Few girls can claim that... and you hesitated with it, and didn't know what to do, so you went back to your ex... didn't answer my calls for a while, and I just shrugged it off. It was never nearly as devastating as you'd tell yourself it was. You know what did get to me? That night, when you called and apologized for it all, and explained your feelings. It was bitter sweet... too little too late... and eclipsed by your disregard for my intelligence. It made me so sad to see someone I respected do what you did, and then come back, apologize, and then have their apology seem less sincere by your obvious attempts to indulge in what your girl fiends for. There was envy, ignorance, and emptyness in you that evoked my pity.
So when you tried to kiss me, and I turned my cheek... it wasn't a hurt man. Bluntly put, you don't do it for me. And when it comes to fucking you, like I did your girl... my pride won't let me give that to you, because I want you to remember what you passed up. That's reality bitch...