I fucked up someone’s life today by saying, “Hello. How are you?”
And she: “We got a new application.”
And me, putting two and two together, connecting your pseudonymed blog to your face. It was your mistake to think you could get away with open dissent under a fanciful name, my mistake in thinking that outing a rival would be fun, my fault that things all came undone.
And now I don’t know where it’s going, but it’s not looking good. And I would turn to you and say, “I’m sorry.” But still I would remember that glimmer of excitement when I realized it was you, and for a moment I fell in love with you, your crisp, nervous tie and blue button-down and most of all the feeling of danger and realizing you wanted your rival after all.
