Anna was going to stay with me for a month, but that month turned into two. Then three. Now the new year was approaching, and she had not left yet. I did not like, of course, as I was madly in passion with her, but the doubt had consumed me. Was she a roomy ? acquaintance ? buff ? More ?

The time to have"the talking"was that first workweek, after she blew me twice. But we did not. She blew me a few more than times, and I ate her out, and yet we never really discussed the details of our human relationship. Anna did not seem to bear in mind - she clearly did not want it defined - and I pretended not to as well, though it killed me.

Then the window closed. She met Clive at a swop meet in ahead of time Nov. They went on a escort. Then two. Then three. Soon she was no farseeing sleeping in my bed, and we were certainly not fooling around. She did not even come home a few dark a calendar week. Fucking Clive.

We'd still hang out, and she'd say affair like,"God, you're such a great guy. You deserve to meet someone."It killed me. I DID deserve it, she was decent. And I had met her. Unfortunately, she had met Baron Clive. Fucking Clive.

By December she was talking about finalizing the divorcement from her married man and finding her own place in the new class. She was very clear that she felt like she was a core to me, and that she"owed it to me"to get out. I was JUST as clear that I didn't care. But I knew it wasn't really about me. It was about her. And fucking Clive.

I felt like I had a injection at Christmas. Clive was going to his parent's home base in Colorado. Anna was driving to meet him on Dec. 26, but she had no plan for Christmas day. I blew my own parents off and pretended I, too, had zippo to do. I suggested we stay in and drink wine-coloured and lookout man TV. She agreed.

I knew the gift I got her was important. I mean, just getting her a present was not enough. I needed a statement. There's a difference between a acquaintance gift and a lover gift. I wanted to get her a buff gift. I wanted a fucking content to be sent in big, bold, cap, thank-the-baby-Jesus letters. No doubtfulness. No confusion.

I got her a yoke of baseball field earrings. It was the kind of affair she'd never get herself. I wrote a speech, too. I had facts on how long it takes a infield to be formed, and how care and preciseness and luck had to be exactly right for it to happen. It was a miracle, really. And just as miraculous, I segued, was how often she meant to me. I explained that I had loved her for most of my life, and I wanted to testify her how special she was. I had this memorized and tucked in my air pocket, in vitrine I stumbled. It was my moment. I didn't want it to go wrong.

BBBBUUUTTTTT … just in case, you know, I got a safety giving : Warm socks.

So on Christmas day, we were finished with bottle two. She got that happy-kid smile on her look and said she had gotten me a present. I told her I had gotten her one, too. She asked if I wanted it now. I said yes. She smiled big and popped up and ran in her way. She was giddy. I grabbed her two giving and put them behind my back, under the shock absorber, almost sure I would give her the devotee natural endowment, BBBBUUUTTTT … just in case, I put the sock back there, too.

Five bit later, she came back to the livelihood room, tears streaking down her face. Clive had hidden a slight enwrap box in her nightstand. She had just found it. It was a pair of lovely diamond earrings. She glided around the room, calling him on her prison cell to state him how a good deal she loved them. I swallowed my tongue. shtup CLIVE.

I opened my gift : A $ 40 gift placard to GameStop. I gave her the drogue. I had lost the fight, the struggle and the war.

***

I had very specific program for New Year's Eve : I was going to drink heavily. This is how heavily : I went to the liquor store and bought a twenty percent of vodka. As I was about to check out, I looked at the 70-proof bottle of loud hooch and though,"Hmm, is this enough ?"I bought two. And I don't even drink vodka.

I really wanted to melanize out before Ryan Seacrest showed his fuck tanned cheek on the blind. Baron Clive of Plassey looked a bit like Seacrest. blond hair. highlighting. short. Perfect smile. Extremely Nice and polite and charming and mirthful. He had always been mellisonant to me. A real gentleman, actually. I hated that guy.

I poured myself a turgid ice of liquid poisonous substance. When I say I am not a vodka guy, I mean that. I never drank it straight. It smelled like rubbing alcohol. Still, I had a destructive streak that was pointing right at my liver and stomach. I tried to ignore the smelling and took a big gulp.

My esophagus was still burning when my cell rang. It was 8:03 p.m. I thought about ignoring it, but I glanced at the phoner ID. Anna.

"how-do-you-do ?"

"Is this a bad meter ?"she asked. She sounded distant.

"No. Why ? You OK ?"

"Um …"her vox cracked. I could order she was choking back bout."I, uh. Are you home ? Are you out ?"

"I'm house. What's up Anna ?"

"Could you … pick me up ? I mean, I hate to ask. It's just. Clive he, uh … we had a competitiveness. You know ? I just need to get home and I left my debit entry card at rest home and I can't get a cab and I don't have anyone …"

"No, shh. Look, it's cool. Where are you ? I will leave behind now."

***

Anna did not peach much on the way home, just a few thank yous. By the time we got back to the apartment, it was a niggling after 10. She looked stunning, even with her makeup running down her face. Her compressed green dress hugged her curves. I felt underdressed, what with my blue jean and a t-shirt.

She went back to her room, only to reemerge a little before 12. Her hairsbreadth was up, makeup off. She wore her cow PJs and a tight T. I wanted to kiss her. It was the outfit she wore the minute night we were together.

She sat down beside me on the lounge. She had a wine glassful in her hand and motioned toward my bottle of vodka, which I had not touched since we had gotten back."May I ?"

She filled her glass up and sank back, her ft curled under her. Her eyes were red, but she was no yearner crying.

"Do you want to let the cat out of the bag ?"I asked.

"No,"she said."Yes. Maybe. God. You probably think I'm such a fucking idiot."

"No. No I don't. I won't."

"first-class honours degree my husband, now Baron Clive. I must hold a special attractor to assholes."

"What did he do ?"

"It turns out he wasn't visiting his parents in CO over the weekend … but his wife. She called when he was in the john, and I picked up his cellular telephone. She was as surprise to found out about me as I was to found out about her."

"Wow,"I said.

"Yeah, well. Anyway, when he got back, I confronted him and he had the nerve to get mad at ME for ‘ snooping.'He left me there at the gild. No money. No ride. Fucking Clive."

She slipped slowly at her drinking, grimacing with every swallow.

"And the thing is … I KNEW it. I knew he was a lying snake. I sensed it. I tried to block it out. There was just something so … fake about him. I don't know. Something phoney. God."

"He looked like Ryan Seacrest."

Anna looked at me. Sort of stared. Then a boo. Then a to the full gag. I started laughing, too. She spilt a little of her boozing on herself and laughed Thomas More. We were both duplicate over.

"God,"she said, wiping the rip away."You are right. I was dating Ryan Seacrest ! I am such an moron. Jesus."

"Anna, you are being too hard on yourself …"

"Stop."

"I mean it. Look, you WANT to roll in the hay someone. You want to so badly that you ignore the bad matter. There are worse qualities."

"Like what ?"

"Like NOT wanting love. Like being closed off. Like giving up on Hope and destiny and all that early poof tale stuff. Listen, you should never be ashamed about your desire to be felicitous and to want the best in others. We live in a misanthropical world. We need more ‘ you,'less ‘ them.'”

She smiled and curled up beside me, resting her headway on my shoulder."You are a dear admirer,"she said. My heart sank. I was such a sucker. It was five till midnight.

We watched meter Square on TV in muteness, Anna taking the occasional sip from her wine-colored glass. Her principal stayed on my shoulder joint. We watched the countdown, the happy faces shrieking and shouting. When the clock ticked one second, Anna turned and gently grabbed my brain, kissing me, tenderly. I had kissed her before, but nothing was like this. It was sweet and gentle and wad with meaning. For me.

She pulled away and bit her lip, her hand caressing my cheek. She put down her wine glass and started to displace, straddling me.

"No,"I said, jumping up and hopping across the way."No. No."

"What's faulty ?"she asked.

"You can't do that."

"Sorry."

"It's not fair."

"What ?"

"THAT. Again."

"What ? Kiss you ? I thought you liked that ? We're Quaker. It's OK …"

"shag Anna. We are NOT booster. We're not. I mean, we are. But … you HAVE to fuck I love you, right ? I mean, you are a sassy girl. You are fucking brilliant. You KNOW I love you. I've never said it, but you know. You know !"

"Tom …"

"Don't say it, Anna. Don't say we're friends. I can't accept it."

Tears were in her eyes again. I couldn't look at her. I felt myself welling up."But we are."

"Why, Anna ? Why Robert Clive and all the others but not me ? Huh ? Why not me ? You want someone to have a go at it you and treat you veracious and be there for you ? It's me. It has always been ME."

Anna took another sip of her vodka, running her hired man through her hair and pinning it back. I looked at her, briefly. I could not sustain a gaze. I was embarrassed at my emotions. I was afraid I had changed everything.

"I know you love me,"she said."I'm not blind."

"Then why ? Huh ? Why not me ? Why not us ?"

"I can't …"

"Fuck, Anna. You can. You owe me an explanation."

"Tom …"

"You have never been afraid to say what you feel. Don't start now."

"I guess I was afraid that if I lost you, then I would have no one left. And I am selfish. OK ? I am the asshole."

I moved to her, sinking on the sofa. I folded my hands across my chest.

"Anna, you ARE going to lose me. I am not doing this anymore. I need you in my life story, but I can't sit back and watch you day of the month guy after guy. Marry them. Then come to me with your problems. I can't. I know I can be the man for you. I know I can cave in you what you want. And I can't sit back and look on this parade of losers. I can't be your rubber net."

"I know."

I covered my center with my hand, rubbing them. I had not cried since Tommy Craig punched me in the nose in eighth grade. I brushed the hair back, off my os frontale. It felt heavy in the room.

"I am pitiful to do this tonight, Anna."

"No …"

"I could've waited."

"Don't apologize. I should."

Anna reached out, taking my script again. She pulled it to her chest, against her heart. I turned to front at her."osculation me,"she said."Kiss me. Let's physical body the rest out later. I promise. I want this. please ?"

I swallowed hard. Anna was a methadone. She hated infliction in mass. I wasn't sure if this was real or her way of healing a wound. But I was weak. I leaned in and kissed her.

I have had sex pot, but I am not sure I had ever made dearest to someone. I had never connected with someone on a cardinal level. But I did with Anna that Night. It was gentle and raw and aroused. On my couch. As Ryan Seacrest spoke in the background.

I stripped her dress off and gazed at her, drinking her in. She gently stroked my putz as I wrapped her legs around me. I eased into her, slipping my arms around her shank so I could pull her tight against me. It was the starting time time I had been completely inside of her. I tried to crap the moment last.

Our bodies responded to each early. When she thrusted, I pumped. When I pumped, she squeezed. Her sass never left mine. I could try out the saltiness from her tears on her lips. Her tongue was belligerent but soothing. When she came, she sank her nails into my back and kissed me gruelling. She said my public figure and I froze inside of her, fucking her gently as she rose and fell.

I was closed. I asked her where she wanted me to cum. She said inside of her. She said she was on the birth control pill. I looked at her as I got close, pulling my head word back so I could see her eyes. She stared back. We connected. I smiled slightly. So did she. A grin of identification. I kissed her as I came, my rooster exploding into the abyss of felicity and contentment.

Afterwards, we lay on my couch, wrapped in a blanket. Her legs wrapped around mine, her school principal on my chest and her fingers playfully running through my hair.

"I think this changes everything,"she said, looking up at me.

"I am OK with that,"I said, still not fully able to seem at her."Are you ?"

She smiled."Yes,"she said.

"And I'm sorry,"she said, a few seconds later.

"Why ?"

"I was selfish. I was a bad friend."

I smiled, my head raced. I squeezed her and pulled her tight."It's OK,"I said .