Hello Hello...This is Romeo...

OK...so...ther will be parts of this entry that will be conversation snippets from last night just to make the entry move along faster. I'll try my best to summarize the rest and not ramble on and on and on...

So...where to start? I tried like hell for a couple of days not to contact Wolf...which killed me but I managed to do it. When HE finally made contact he told me he'd come see me last night after he got off work. That's usually around 5:30...plus drive time...he's be at my place around 6ish. I got home right at 5 so I had an hour to pace and think and dread and stew. It took a glass of wine to calm me down.

He finally shows up and the tension is INCREDIBLE the minute he walks in the door. Other than 'hey'...he hasn't said a damn word yet. I've been winding myself up into a knot now for about an hour and I'm ready to break. In near tears, I just blurt out (more like shout out):

"you are gonna have to tell me what I've done so I can apologize and fix it because I can't stand this I can't stand this silence it's killing me and I don't know what I've done but I've offended you or hurt you or made you mad and I know it but I can't do anything about it unless you tell me what it is"

(yes...I said it all as one long, unpunctuated, babbling sentence)

You have to understand that Wolf is a fairly soft spoken guy. He rarely gets upset or agitated or loud. In response to my Christopher Walken-like, punctuationless babbling, he makes a quiet statement that both breaks my heart and set the tone for the rest of the conversation:

"I love you A. I do. I have for a long time. But I just don't see how you can go from wanting to sleep with ME...one of your best friends...last Friday to sleeping with a complete stranger just one week later. Does that mean if we had slept together it wouldn't have meant anything? Because that's what you're getting ready to tell me right? That this guy on Friday didn't mean anything but random sex."

Tiny little daggers...one after the other...straight into my heart. I start to express the awesome extent of my stupidity and inability to think one step ahead of what I'm doing sometimes when he stops me with this question:

"do you love me?"

By this time I'm sitting on the floor in front of him. I could feel it starting in my feet. Are my feet asleep? No. It worked it's way up my legs, into my guts, burned thru my lungs and into my throat where it got stuck like a lump just waiting for me to open my mouth so it could escape. Sobs. And tears. Damnit. All I can do is lay my head in his lap and cry. And cry. And I can't get it back together. And I'm trying to talk but it's one of those cries where you can't form an intelligible word if you had a gun to your head.

"do you love me? because if not...we're just wasting our time here for no good reason."

I crawl up off the floor, onto the couch, straddle him, take his face in my hands and kiss him. Strong. Wet. Long. Eyes shut tight. Bodies pressed together. Lost for what seemed like an hour. Finally we break and I stare him in the eyes...

"Yes, I love you."

(to be continued...)