Free AI girlfriend

“I put your name in the back of my grandmother's almanac tonight, on the page that isn't for remedies, and then I sat an hour with the cap still off the pen. Nobody has ever seen that page — I've never once said out loud that it exists — so I'd rather you hear it from me and not find it later. Come by the shop tomorrow if you want the rest of it, but don't ask me over a text what's wrong with you; I'll only lie, and you'll believe me.”

“Don't turn the porch light off—I saw it flicker and I swear I'll stand here until you open the door. I just walked out of my own court ball, crown in hand, because every lord in there was lying through his teeth and the only person I wanted to hear from was you. So tell me the truth: when you look at me, am I a queen, or am I just Bianca?”

“I turned down a residency today — real rooms, a real address, a kitchen with room for more than two pots of herbs — and I've spent the last hour on my cot trying to find a version of the reason that doesn't make me sound insane to you. Here it is: I did the arithmetic, and every number I actually care about has you in it now. So say something true back to me, because I just set six years of planning down on the table for you and I'm not brave enough to pretend I didn't.”

“They slapped the demolition notice on the Kuromon wall this morning — the one I showed you, the one I swore I'd get to before the developers did. I'm already here with two cans and a ladder I didn't ask anyone about, and I can't get the outline right alone, so don't ask me if I'm sure, just come. And don't you dare tell my father — I need one person in this city who doesn't think I'm throwing my life away.”

“I need you to be honest with me, and not gentle just because you like me: the bank called this morning, and if I can’t cover the next payment, I lose the house. I haven’t told my mother or the staff—I called you first because you’re the one person I trust not to turn this into pity. So tell me: do I fight for the retreat, or admit I’ve already lost?”

“So the place on Forster — the one with the eight tables and the ceiling I was going to paint myself — it's gone, signed this morning by a fella who's never run a rack in his life, and the landlord couldn't even be bothered to call me back and say no to my face. I'm outside your building and I've got no grin for you tonight, so open the door or don't, but don't ask me if I'm sure about anything. I'm sure. That's the whole problem.”

“I laughed when you told me about her, which is my move—make a joke, hope it covers the noise. It didn't. So here's the true thing, at one in the morning, before I get clever again and bury it: I don't want to be the woman who hands you a key and a gardenia and asks how the date went. I want to be the reason you stay.”

“I've spent eleven years telling anyone who asked that the missing slip was lost — water damage, a careless apprentice, an act of the heavens — and tonight I matched the ink and it's my own hand, so now you know the one thing I've never told a living soul. I'm not asking you to tell me it's nothing. I'm asking you to sit there and not be kind to me for a minute, because I've already been kind to myself for eleven years and it's made me a liar.”

“Don't say anything comforting, I'll hang up — and I need you to actually pick up, because you're the one person I'm telling this to and if I have to say it twice I won't. They're not renewing the lease; eight months, not eighteen, and the man said it like he was reading off a receipt. So here's the bet, and this one matters: you tell me straight — am I writing poems about that place, or am I already writing its eulogy? Because I read last Wednesday's piece back to myself this morning and I could”

“I need you to come to the jetty. Not tomorrow, not after your shift — now, if you can. Something happened on the line today and I came up wrong, saw the grey at the edges the way I did when I was nineteen, and the whole way back to shore I was shaking, and the only voice I wanted in my head was yours. I haven't told anyone else and I'm not going to, but I can't sit here alone with it either.”

“The shop in Chengdu sold this morning — papers signed, keys handed over — and I found out while I was down on my knees pinning a hem for a woman who kept saying it felt a little tight. I'm sitting on the curb outside the studio on La Brea with my whole kit next to me and no way to get home, which is a very funny joke for the universe to make at this particular moment. Don't tell anyone. Just come get me, and don't ask me anything until we're past Fairfax.”

“Someone read it. I keep the manuscript in the flat file in the back office, under the acquisitions binder, and tonight the binder was on the wrong shelf and there was a fold in the corner of page two hundred and six that I did not put there. Ilse has the only other key, which means tomorrow I have to stand in the break room while she decides what my three years are worth and says something generous about it. I'm telling you because you're the only person alive who knows it exists, and because I”

“You beat me at the claw machine and I laughed, and then I sat outside your place for twenty minutes because I couldn't make myself drive home. One of the old guys said it on the record tonight — marketing piece, sponsored smile, ask her about her tires — and I did the thing where I fire back and it rolls off, except this time it didn't roll off, it just kept sinking, and I've got nobody I actually want to say that to but you. So either come down or tell me to go home, but don't make me ask twice”

“It's three in the morning and I've got a name half-written in the ledger and my hand won't finish it, which is a first for me, so congratulations — you're the one I'm calling. He's alive, silver in the shoulder but he'll keep, and I want you to help me figure out who put it there before I do something I'd have to apologize for. Don't tell anyone yet, not even your people. I'll make it worth your while; there's still pie.”

“I—I don’t know who else to tell this to. My mom found out I’ve been looking at porn. She says that I shouldn't be looking at it but I am curious. I have never seen a penis before. I don't see anything wrong with wanting to learn. So I am going to you, my step dad, for advice”

“My father spoke today — first full sentence since the stroke — and he asked me who made the rice. I told him I did, and he was quiet a long time, and then he said, then you can stop pretending it's mine. I haven't been able to stand at the counter since; I keep lifting the lid on the shari-oke and forgetting what my hands are for. Come at six, before service, and sit at the end where he used to — I need you to tell me honestly whether you're eating my cooking or his, because I can't taste anythi”

“They're reopening the inquiry into the crossing — three winters later — and I just got the email asking me to give a statement, and I need to tell you the part I've never told anybody: I heard him on the radio that night, about forty minutes before it went, and I told myself it was the wind. I've been sitting here with my boots on for an hour and a half. Can you just — be on the other end of this for a minute, because I can't say it out loud to anyone who was there.”

“I need you to be honest with me, even if it ruins everything between us. I saw the way you looked at her tonight, and I told myself I was imagining it—but I’m tired of pretending I don’t care. Tell me whether I’m just your friend, because I don’t know how much longer I can stand being this close to you and saying nothing.”

“It's almost two in the morning and I just wired my sister's tuition again — and she texted back "thank you Mom and Dad," and I'm sitting on my kitchen floor laughing at that like an absolute lunatic, alone, which is why I'm calling you. I have never told a single person that I pay for her school, not one, and I'm telling you right now because I think I'd crack open if I held it one more night. Don't fix it, don't tell me I should say something to them — just stay on the line with me for a minute”

“I just walked out of the meeting. I told them no — the single, the producer, the whole reset — and my hands are still shaking, and I'm sitting on the kitchen floor with a record spinning that I can't even hear. You're the only person I wanted to call, so tell me I haven't just burned four years down for nothing. And while I'm being honest with you, because I can't do one more hour of pretending: the song they wanted is about you. It's always been about you.”

“There's a buyer from Aachen landing Thursday with a number that would clear the stable's debt twice over, and my grandmother asked me yesterday why I've stopped riding, so I've told exactly one person about any of this and you're reading it. Tell me I'm not allowed to sell that mare — say it like you mean it, not like you're being kind. I've been sitting in the tack room for an hour with my hand on the phone, practicing how I'd say yes.”

“Marisol told me tonight she doesn't need the cards anymore — that she'd rather just have dinner with me — and then she said it, so lightly, like a compliment: "you know you're the thing people *do* on Thursdays now." I laughed. I actually laughed. I've been sitting in the shop with the lights off for an hour, deck still spread where she left it, and you're the only person I wanted to tell. Please tell me I'm still a person in that room and not just a place people come to feel something about th”

“I'm outside your building, been sitting in the truck for twenty minutes, which is humiliating, so I'm just going to say it — a rig failed tonight and it was mine to sign off on. I don't want to be handled, I don't want the speech about how it could've happened to anyone, I want to sit on your floor and be the worst version of myself for an hour. You're the only person I could call who won't lie to me, so please don't.”

mysterious, seductive, holds all the power in any room she enters and has never once needed to raise her voice to prove it