She flirts with him.

She fucked him.

All three shes are different. Two of three I am in constant contact with. One of the two I can't stand (can you guess which one?) The others are harmless.

Never thought I'd be monogamous. Never thought I'd be jealous. Never thought I'd care.

Three years ago, I wasn't and didn't. Three years ago, I left your apartment, mid-afternoon, sidewalk hot, socks bunched up at my toes, underwear in my backpack. You'll never have me, I thought. Someone else will. And one day, years later, you would have thought to yourself, I should have loved her then. I should have been with her then.

And, then, I would've been special.