No hedging our bets. No half-measures. There can’t be. She’ll always make me feel like this. If we can’t be together, we’ll have to be completely apart. Anything else will be impossible for me. At least for a very long while.“I should go.”“I understand. You’re welcome to stay, of course.” That sounded needy, even for me.“I know. Thank you. I’d like to. I want to. I feel safe here. Happy. Content. And yes, I feel the other thing as well. I’m apologizing a lot tonight, but I’m still sorry. Anyway, I really do have to go.”“Okay.”A few minutes later, they were both asleep, knotted against each other.At some indefinite (to him) time of the night — he’d made a point of keeping visible clocks, including his phone, away from the bed — he struggled to semiconsciousness as she carefully extracted herself from his enveloping arms. With a sigh of regret, he rolled over and went back to sleep.When both the sun and he arose, many hours later, he was alone. Only her scent and the memory of her. Blazing red hair told of her inner fire. Her expressive, sweet face spoke of her womanhood. She never used the mannerisms of a girl. Not a giggle emerged from her mouth. Batting eyes and blushing were beneath her. Even relaxed she stood straight and proud. As a new person I merely stood and watched at first. Occasionally I would interject something into one conversation or another. I stayed away from her. I was afraid I would be too much of the drooling, inarticulate male. We circulated through conversations, sometimes staying to chat a bit and move on. I became a regular patron of the establishment, so we saw each other more often. And I soon learned I couldn’t have her. The people we were would keep us forever apart. Such things have happened before. I sighed internally, shrugged my shoulders and continued to visit where our lives intersected. But this wasn’t like before. Other times, my feelings would fade eventually. On accepting the inevitable the object of my desire and I would.
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