115 Days

Do you know that the happiest moments of my life have been the times we’ve spent together?

I feel perfectly content and satisfied just sitting next to you on the couch and watching tv, or strolling through the mall, or sitting in the movie theatre, or riding our bikes, not even saying a word.

Whenever your name appears on the Caller ID of my cell phone…when I get your text messages...when you rub my feet as we lounge on your sofa…when you plant a sweet little kiss on the back of my head while we stand in line for water ice…when you feed me bits of your soft pretzel at the mall…when you hold my hand as we walk together...when you gently guide me through a crowded place with your hand resting on my shoulder…those are the moments that I live for.

Isn't this what love is...when you'd rather be with one person more than anyone else in the world? When the little things mean the most?

I just don't get it. You say you're a runner, but I don't know why. I would never hurt you and I would never lie to you. I'll always love you and I only want what's best for you. You don't have to pretend to be someone or something that you're not; I know you almost as well as I know myself and I adore you. Why would you run away from that?

I took this picture of us at the Def Leppard concert on 7/14/07.

You'd been trying all evening to get physical with me, even after I told you that we could only be just friends unless you treated me better.

We ate dinner al fresco at a corner pizza place at 22nd and Spruce. I studiously avoided your eyes and tried to keep the conversation light.

Then you stared at me and said, "Your breasts look great."

I'm sorry, but none of my other male friends ever comment on my breasts.

When we got to the Tweeter Center, you purposely tried to steer me towards a quiet, secluded back corner of the concession area, but I wouldn't even come near you.

So then you glanced way up the hill of the general admission lawn seats and feigned curiosity.

"Hmm...what's that deck all the way up there?"

"I don't know," I replied.

"C'mon...let's go up there and check it out."

We climbed the seemingly endless steps carved into the hillside until we reached the top, where we found a large, empty deck with a deserted tiki bar overlooking the Delaware River. The sun was still fairly high over the city skyline across the river, and I said, "There's my shot."

Leaning on the deck rail, I pointed the camera at the Philadelphia skyline and started taking photos.

You came up from behind me and pressed your groin into me. You were rock hard. Slowly, your hand snaked up my bare right arm and softly pushed aside my hair. Your mouth fell upon my neck. You must have kissed, licked, and sucked my neck, shoulder, and ear for fifteen minutes.

And I ignored you completely. For the first time ever in my life, I didn't give in to you.

How did that feel?

You sensed defeat, so you switched gears. Pulling away, you looked at me and whined, "Can we make out?"

"No," I said firmly.

"Why not?"

I sighed. "Because nothing good can come from that."

"Actually, I was thinking just the opposite," you giggled.

I sighed again, deeper this time. You resumed working over my neck with those soft, juicy, luscious lips of yours.

Finally, I murmured, "Why are you doing this?"

"Because," you whispered as you traced the outline of my earlobe with your tongue, "I'm selfish...and self-centered...and you're beautiful."

AND I PULLED AWAY. Despite feeling almost unbearably weak in the knees and soaking wet in my panties, I pulled away from you. Score one for me.

"I'm not doing this, David," I said. "I can't do this anymore. Because I never get what I want."

"Well, what do you want?" you returned.

I snorted. "Oh, I'm not even gonna get into that right now."

And so we wound our way down through the lawn seats and found our spots in the covered pavilion.