The Personality Vampire

You can see him in the bars any night, buying drinks for the most attractive person in the room. He knows what to say to get invited home. It’s an instinct, a tropism like plants turning toward the sun.

He likes to go to their places rather than bringing them to his. That way, there’s more for him to devour. More about who they are and how they live. The photos on a refrigerator door can sustain him for days.

All his partners tell him how good he is at lovemaking, but he hardly feels anything when he’s doing it. He doesn’t suck their blood, doesn’t kill or beat them, doesn’t really want their flesh at all. What he feasts on is their personalities.

What he craves is what he’s missing. Craves it without understanding what it is.