(improvise to a keyword written on each paper)

Romance.
Allergy.
Control.
Archeology.
Mystery.
False:
It’s not you.
It’s also not you.
It’s never you.
It’s been a long time,
but it’s not you. Hundreds of it’s-not-you.

According to this article, there is this magician who was
so good at pickpocketing, well-respected among magicians.
But the magic show critic once wrote him down.
One day in Las Vegas, they ran into each other.
The critic was wearing this polo shirt with pocket and a pair of casual short pants. Off business.
The critic challenged him,
“You know what, I think pickpocketing is a low form of magic. Why don’t you try to impress me?”
The magician humbly declined,
“No, no, I don’t wanna upset the good critic like you.”
But the critic kept pressing on him at this resort place.
So the magician went,
“I don’t wanna do pickpocketing. Let me show you a trick.”
He asked the critic to put his ring on a piece of napkin and trace it to begin with. So he took off the ring, took off this pen from his shirt’s pocket to trace,
“Damn it!”
His ink cartridge was stolen…

So I have a sort of partner. Well I think I have a partner.
But it’s weird. I don’t really know what the opposite sex thinks about. Or any opposite person, really.
The other day, I saw him after a few months. He brought lots of gifts. Food mostly. It was so nice that I drooled with joy. I said,
“Thank you, food is what I love.”
I have been dormant or single or promiscuous or broken heart before that, so I was feeling warm eating this barbecued fish with grated ginger with this another person that evokes familiarity. Well, I was just discovering it’s not that bad. No frill, but I like the person, I love the food, he doesn’t smell as bad as other male creatures.
We didn’t drink enough, and the conversation goes weird, and at some point, this person says,
“Do you think you and I had romance, ever?”
“Ahhh…”
A) He probably had a random bar conversation with a cognitive scientist the day before, and got introduced to the concept.
B) His neighbor is a romance novelist and he just opened one of the fan letters that stray occasionally into his post box.
C) He got a call from an ex.
D) It’s a product name for fancy food.

This partner I used to have, seems to be me. All the similarities of her started to point me towards destruction of the circle. I will taint it.
I knew all the buttons to push to upset her, who was basically me. I get joy destroying my own construct, and by the time I successfully kill my own construct, I have also disengaged any warmth and attraction between us. I destroyed the partner, I destroyed you.