| O. and I meet for the first time in a doorway, the second time on a stairway. I noticed the ring and expressed my disappointment immediately. He could have been perfect. But his moral strength far exceeded mine, even though he was a conflicted man. I told him I'd kiss him the next time we met, and I didn't. Had to test myself, and I suppose I passed. Though I couldn't help but slip an absurdly steamy love note under his door as I hit the road, loved the idea of his waking up in the morning to have a laugh and an extended hard-on. I wanted to leave him exhausted - dizzy and tear-jerking exhausted. I wanted to sear my impression on him, and never lay eyes on him again. He fell a little in love with me, I think, after he'd asked what I'd have done had he been open to an infidelity. I told him that one of the things I love about myself is that I love men in so many different ways. What I didn't tell him is that I have to, short of having found it for real. Oferheavensake. Save me. I'm getting old. |