Anna was going to stay with me for a month, but that month turned into two. Then three. Now the new twelvemonth was approaching, and she had not left yet. I did not give care, of track, as I was madly in love with her, but the doubt had consumed me. Was she a roomie ? champion ? Lover ? More ?

The time to take"the talk"was that first calendar week, after she blew me twice. But we did not. She blew me a few Thomas More times, and I ate her out, and yet we never really discussed the point of our human relationship. Anna did not seem to 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 swap meet in early November. They went on a engagement. Then two. Then three. Soon she was no longer sleeping in my bed, and we were certainly not fooling around. She did not even come dwelling house a few dark a week. Fucking Clive.

We'd still hang out, and she'd say things like,"God, you're such a with child guy. You deserve to match someone."It killed me. I DID deserve it, she was right. And I had met her. Unfortunately, she had met Robert Clive. Fucking Clive.

By Dec she was talking about finalizing the divorcement from her husband and finding her own place in the new year. She was very brighten that she felt like she was a burden to me, and that she"owed it to me"to get out. I was JUST as crystalise 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 shooting at Christmas Day. Robert Clive was going to his parent's dwelling house in Colorado. Anna was driving to meet him on Dec. 26, but she had no programme for Xmas day. I blew my own parents off and pretended I, too, had nothing to do. I suggested we stay in and drink wine and lookout man TV. She agreed.

I knew the gift I got her was crucial. I mean, just getting her a present was not enough. I needed a statement. There's a conflict between a friend gift and a lover endowment. I wanted to get her a lover gift. I wanted a fucking substance to be sent in big, bold, capital, thank-the-baby-Jesus letters. No doubt. No confusion.

I got her a twosome of baseball field earrings. It was the form of thing she'd never get herself. I wrote a speech, too. I had facts on how tenacious it takes a rhombus to be formed, and how attention and precision and luck had to be exactly right for it to happen. It was a miracle, really. And just as miraculous, I segued, was how practically she meant to me. I explained that I had loved her for most of my life, and I wanted to show her how special she was. I had this memorized and tucked in my sack, in case I stumbled. It was my moment. I didn't want it to go wrong.

BBBBUUUTTTTT … just in typesetter's case, you know, I got a safe gift : warm socks.

So on Yule day, we were finished with feeding bottle two. She got that happy-kid smiling on her typeface and said she had gotten me a show. 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 room. She was giddy. I grabbed her two gifts and put them behind my back, under the cushion, almost sure I would kick in her the lover gift, BBBBUUUTTTT … just in case, I put the wind sleeve back there, too.

five minutes later, she came back to the keep elbow room, tears streaking down her face. Clive had hidden a little wrapped box in her nightstand. She had just found it. It was a pair of lovely adamant earrings. She glided around the room, calling him on her cell to secernate him how lots she loved them. I swallowed my tongue. FUCKING CLIVE.

I opened my gift : A $ 40 gift notice to GameStop. I gave her the wind cone. I had lost the fight, the battle and the war.

***

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

I really wanted to pitch blackness out before Ryan Seacrest showed his roll in the hay tanned face on the blind. Clive looked a bit like Seacrest. blonde hair's-breadth. highlighting. short. perfect tense grin. Extremely decent and civilised and charming and suspect. He had always been sweet to me. A actual valet, actually. I hated that guy.

I poured myself a large glassful of liquid poison. 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 stripe that was pointing right at my liver and stomach. I tried to discount the smell and took a big gulp.

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

"hello ?"

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

"No. Why ? You OK ?"

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

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

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

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

***

Anna did not talk much on the way home, just a few thank yous. By the time we got back to the apartment, it was a little after 10. She looked stunning, even with her war paint running down her cheeks. Her tight green dress hugged her bend. I felt underdressed, what with my jeans and a t-shirt.

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

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

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

"Do you require to babble out ?"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."

"beginning my married man, now Clive. I must have a special attraction 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 can, and I picked up his cell. She was as surprised to line up 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 baseball club. No money. No ride. Fucking Clive."

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

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

"He looked like Ryan Seacrest."

Anna looked at me. Sort of stared. Then a snort. Then a full jest. I started laughing, too. She spilt a small of her deglutition on herself and laughed more. We were both doubled over.

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

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

"Stop."

"I mean it. Look, you WANT to get laid someone. You want to so badly that you ignore the bad things. There are worsened qualities."

"Like what ?"

"Like NOT wanting love. Like being closed off. Like giving up on Bob Hope and destiny and all that early fairy tale stuff. Listen, you should never be ashamed about your desire to be well-chosen and to want the best in others. We live in a misanthropical world. We need More ‘ you,'to a lesser extent ‘ them.'”

She smiled and curled up beside me, resting her head on my shoulder joint."You are a serious friend,"she said. My center sank. I was such a sucker. It was five till midnight.

We watched Time Square on TV in secretiveness, Anna taking the occasional sip from her wine meth. Her head stayed on my shoulder. We watched the countdown, the felicitous faces screaming and yelling. When the clock ticked one s, Anna turned and gently grabbed my head, kissing me, tenderly. I had kissed her before, but nix was like this. It was sweet and blue and packed with significance. For me.

She pulled away and bit her lip, her hand caressing my brass. She put down her wine-colored glass and started to move, straddling me.

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

"What's wrong ?"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 friends. It's OK …"

"FUCK Anna. We are NOT ally. We're not. I mean, we are. But … you HAVE to sleep together I love you, right ? I mean, you are a voguish female child. 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 take it."

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

"Why, Anna ? Why Clive and all the others but not me ? Huh ? Why not me ? You want someone to love you and treat you flop and be there for you ? It's me. It has always been ME."

Anna took another sip of her vodka, running her bridge player 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 get laid me,"she said."I'm not blind."

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

"I can't …"

"shag, 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 give birth 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, but I can't sit back and spotter you date 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 give you what you want. And I can't sit back and watch this parade of failure. I can't be your safety net."

"I know."

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

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

"No …"

"I could've waited."

"Don't apologize. I should."

Anna reached out, taking my hand again. She pulled it to her breast, against her heart. I turned to look at her."Kiss me,"she said."Kiss me. Let's figure the rest out later. I promise. I want this. Please ?"

I swallowed hard. Anna was a mender. She hated pain in citizenry. I wasn't sure if this was actual or her way of healing a wound. But I was fallible. I leaned in and kissed her.

I have had sex circle, but I am not sure I had ever made love to individual. I had never connected with someone on a primal level. But I did with Anna that Night. It was gentle and raw and emotional. On my sofa. As Ryan Seacrest spoke in the background.

I stripped her clothes off and gazed at her, drinking her in. She gently stroked my cock as I wrapped her legs around me. I eased into her, slipping my weapons system around her waist so I could pull her tight against me. It was the first clip I had been completely inside of her. I tried to cause the import last.

Our organic structure responded to each former. When she thrusted, I pumped. When I pumped, she squeezed. Her lips never left mine. I could sample the table salt from her binge on her sassing. Her tongue was strong-growing but soothing. When she came, she sank her nails into my back and kissed me grueling. She said my gens 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 pill. I looked at her as I got close, pulling my drumhead back so I could see her eyes. She stared back. We connected. I smiled slightly. So did she. A grin of acknowledgment. I kissed her as I came, my cock exploding into the abyss of felicity and contentment.

Afterwards, we lay on my lounge, wrapped in a blanket. Her stage wrapped around mine, her head 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 capable to wait 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 intellect raced. I squeezed her and pulled her tight."It's OK,"I said .