"I do not want you sick of me ..."
something so scary.
Who says and who hears it.
"I do not want you sick of me ..."
do not know, now, if I get bored or not.
Meanwhile, I kiss you.
They had talked about spending the night apart, and Philip was afraid of being able to sound too full of expectations. "Tell me the truth" said hour. "You want to be with you tonight? I mean, we eat, then I could go back up-town. There would be no problem. "
Eliot looked at him. "Philip," he said, "do you know what you're talking about?"
Philip was silent for a moment. "I do not want you sick of me," he said finally.
"If I'm sick of you, I tell you," said Eliot. She took his hand and turned to look out the window.
Philip looked at the profile of Eliot. He felt like one of those crazy vivisectionists Eliot had mentioned, I decided to know the exact boundaries of pain. How much can I stand before you feel it? How long will it take before something happens to me it hurts?
(D. Leavitt - The Lost Language of Cranes)
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