How we relate to each other

I sat at the bar, I vowed not to go to
That I'd been to three times that weekend already,
I'd had too much to drink,
And could feel my heart pound under too many sulfates,
When He came over because I bought him a drink.
I thought of course he'd not sit quietly
He doesn't understand my relationship to money
(My desperate hope it'll be the thing that will allow me the privilege to be left alone.)
Of course he wouldn't just sit back and relax and enjoy what I bought him
Not when in guy world this means truce.
So he comes over there
And immediately comes too close.
I sit my bag on a chair
I desperately hope he doesn't sit on
And I lean back, wearily, like a dog whose tail's inching the back of their thighs,
Stiff as a board
And it hits me.
His silence, his inexplicant, expectant, very desperate silent look I take for full idiocy/borderline psychotic.
And as I looked at him, I saw, as though from a distance, my own reaction to him
And thought this is how we relate to one another
The same way he's seeing me, I'm seeing him
No matter how vastly our different opinions
He wants me to save him.
Or in the least make it alright
As I'm screaming inside my head F if I'll be your three minute fad!
So I go about giving in
Giving him a good night
We laugh
We roar
The sulfates strangle my heart
And he says _____ you're something else!
And I feel unique.
He asks me if he can walk me home
I politely, from some place I didn't know I kept sincerity towards men like him anymore
Say It's not far, "I know" he says
But accepts Because it's been an exceptional evening in his mind
All he really wanted.