The incredible shrinking self-destructive streak.

So I have a movie friend. We dated yonks ago, and have remained friends. He jokes about leaving hollywood and marrying me. I joke about leaving the church and marrying him. Neither of us take the other seriously. Every few years or so when he's in town filming and has some spare time he comes over and occasionally we'll get to neckin'. Usually it's more along the lines of social experiment than romance, because our lifestyles are very, very different. For example, to me coke is something you drink. After chatting about mutual friends and how awful people in LA are the conversation usually goes like this. He starts.

"Hey, Frogface."

"Ribbit."

"I like you."

"I like you too."

"Why did we break up?"

"I don't remember. Something about you getting engaged."

"No, that can't be it. Did you sleep with someone else?"

"I didn't sleep with you, remember? I'm abstinent."

"Oh yeah. Want to make out?"

"No, that would be weird. Quiz me on my flashcards. They're theological terms."

"You know that turns me on."

"Give me my cards back, sicko."

"I know. I'm so bad. Hit me with a ruler."

"Those are the Catholics."

"Okay, kiss me instead."

"No."

"But it was fun before, and you know you're the only woman I'll ever really love"

"I've personally heard you say that to four other women."

"Yeah, but I mean it with you."

"I've heard you say that to four other women too."

"You've got better taste in film than they do."

"That doesn't entitle you to access my orthodontia"

"Well I've got to get you before you become a Bride of Christ"

"I'm pretty sure you don't."

"Come on, be a pal, nothing below the neck"

"Okay, but I'm going to pretend you're Leonard Cohen and no smudging my glasses."

"Deal!"

So that's it. And when we're done I wash the nose prints off my glasses. He talks non-stop about all the disgusting things he's making in his next film and I sit next to him eating grapes and going over my flashcards in my mind. Finally it happens.

"I've got to get a dummy from LA flown in tomorrow. I'd better get back. Do you want me to send you flowers tomorrow? To work or something? 'Thanks for last night Frogface- Love, Famous Person'? It'll give your editor a fit."

"You do and I'll deck you."

So he goes and that's that. I was glad to see him and even gladder to see him leave.

What's going on? All of the sudden meaningless make-out sessions aren't fulfilling anymore. I just wanted him to go.

This post was brought to you by someone who has seen the light, and only about half this guy's films, don't tell him.