The thread of the conversation was lost on me. I didn’t know the language well enough yet to grasp a conversation half way through, to tie the pieces of the not said or heard to the words heard or understood.
It’s my own stupid fault that I ended up here. She told me twice that it would happen if I did it, and as much as I hate to admit it, she was right. What’s a man to do? I’ve gotta make my own experience. But it’s worse than she warned me it was.
He answered me too quickly. I’m not stupid enough to have believed his response, but I pretended I was. Everyone reveals themselves eventually, of that I can be sure, and I am prepared to wait to find out what I really want to know.