Just a Girl

I caught his eye from across the room.

I tensed up as he walked over, but was pleasantly surprised that he talked to me like I was just some girl. We chatted, flirted a bit. It was all so unusually normal.

He was charming, but not smug, and against my better judgement, I accepted his offer to go back to his place.

More talking, more flirting, with ever-heightened intensity.

The sex was good -- not great, but good -- made even better by the delicious normalcy of it all.

Then he asked for my autograph.

I smiled, and signed, and died inside.