Boiling (A Letter to Lockjaw) by Angela Thomas Dear Lockjaw, I did a bold thing the other day. I was halfway out the door from never seeing him again, and something made me turn around and walk back in. I took all my courage and burst out, “we really should hang out.” Nothing could have been stupider. But he took my number and then a few hours later, he dialed it, Lockjaw, he dialed it. We ended up at the park, Lockjaw, sitting on a bench for hours just talking. He called me a nerd, poked at my dimples and made me blush. I liked it. I see something in him, like he’s a kettle full of potential and under the top, there’s so much boiling. Me being the brat that I am, I just want to lift the lid, stick my finger inside and taste whatever is in there. I’m sure it’s sweet. But, Lockjaw, at the same time, he could just be running game. He plays games for a living. Nothing ever gets me excited any more because all I’ve ever had to deal with was a disappointing ending. If I was one team, and the men I’ve dated were another, I would most certainly have a total losing streak. Because no, I’ve never been bought a drink, and no, I haven’t ever been romanced, but that’s another story all together. I came home after our night and lied down in my bed and let out all the stale air I had been holding in. I’m not playing him like the lesbian, not at all, and I’m not going to run my game on him either. But, Lockjaw, we are going to be some kind of special friends, because, surprisingly enough, I think he gets me, he really understands what I’m saying when I talk to him. With hope and smiles, Love, Angela 07/28/2004 Posted on 07/28/2004 Copyright © 2025 Angela Thomas Return to the Previous Page   pathetic.org Version 7.3.2 May 2004 Terms and Conditions of Use 0 member(s) and 2 visitor(s) online All works Copyright © 2025 their respective authors. Page Generated In 0 Second(s)