Nothing but the Naked Truth

Melissa Falb



xxxxxIt may very well have been the stupidest thing she'd ever done. At the time, it seemed like a good idea. He wanted to know who she was, wanted to know who she was, wanted to be sure of her feelings for him.
xxxxx"Hell, why not?" she thought as she handed him her journal, stating earnestly: "I have nothing to hide. I want you to see me."
xxxxxThey were just feelings after all, just thoughts. Fading in and out, the way the seasons pass. Hot, then cold; raining, then dry. Just emotions-some good, some bad- totaling, in essence, everything, and absolutely nothing.
xxxxxUnfortunately, he didn't feel that way.
xxxxx"Fuck," the first text message read.
xxxxx"We need to talk," followed the second. And so, she called.
xxxxxHe demanded to know why she hadn't told him she felt that way. And not in just a curious way, but in an angry, "I'm really pissed off" kind of tone. What was she supposed to say? Given his response, it was probably good she hadn't.
xxxxxWhen she arrived at this apartment he threw the book across the room. "I don't know if I love you anymore," he stated flatly. "I'm not even sure I know who you are."
xxxxxShe realized then she'd made a mistake. Because the problem was that now, if ever, he knew exactly who she was.

The Elitists say: Melissa story is what sold us here. Granted there are a few problems with it, like the last sentence isn't really needed, but GEE WHIZ she only had an hour! I can't help but wonder what kind of story line Melissa could come up with if she had…let's say two hours.

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