I just had a really good idea, which in effect might be a really bad idea in the end. Right now it sounds just about fabulous. I've never had sex in a very public place, but today I am wearing a skirt with a red blouse and pretty little red shoes that would look real good in an indiscreet situation (up in the air, white thighs flashing).

How about I have an eating my words sandwhich right now along with some I could be wrong sauce and down it with a I might be falling for him milkshake all with subtle reference to the booty call. Yes, the same crazy, audacious, irreverent, fun, lying, creative, unnerving dude I've been boning on the side for the past 10 months. So, how have you been? Fuck me.

I consciously decided to give him another chance. It was a blatant decision to either step it up or erase it all together. He kept chasing after me. He was phoning, texting, e-mailing me stupid fucking shit that I found terribly endearing. We've been hanging out non stop since last Friday. At this point I haven't slept alone for a week now. It has been so easy and so normal and it is scaring the panties off me because he is not what I envisioned in my life, for my life, but in a strange way I can see him in my life with me. I see it very clearly. There is this feeling I have in my throat and it feels like a pleasant nausea. Like a string pulling down into my navel and filled with jittery apprehension and happy unease. I'm walking on a tightrope and I'm afraid of heights. I'm about to fall and I am not heading the warning signs, speeding straight ahead into oblivion.