It doesn’t mean anything until it does, like saying size doesn’t
matter, when it is all there is, like that time when she took a long ride
through New York State with her boyfriend when she stumbled onto the perfect
job, only the dean there has already offered it to someone else, all this from
an account by an admirer who did not see the forest for the trees, or suspected
something might have been amiss when she campaigned to get that job, and mysteriously,
the dean took back his offer to that other person and gave it to her. It meant
something then.
Or that time when her girl friend’s boyfriend began his campaign
to get her, and she eventually relented, thinking it didn’t matter, until the
SOB decided he wanted more than she offered, and then it meant something.
And so, when she told me how it didn’t matter with that guy
she picked up at a bar, I believed her, even though I wondered whether or not
it mattered when my time came to bat, and how I still wish it did since it
mattered to me.
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