A tear rolled down my eyes as I realized that I'd packed up the last of my stuff. Nothing of mine was left in his room. I took a deep breath, wiped my eyes, and walked to join him in the living room. He took one look at me, and the tears started to fall again.
He walked over to me and took me in his arms, holding me close. "It shouldn?t be this hard, " I whispered. "We've been over for months." I pulled away and looked into his eyes. Those beautiful, blue eyes. The eyes that made me fall in love with him the moment I met him.
"One last kiss," I thought. As I leaned in to kiss him, it was as if he was thinking the same thing. I kissed him softly on the lips and pulled away. He leaned towards me again, and kissed me. He kissed me the way he did after I first confessed my love to him. He kissed me in a way I hadn't been kissed in a long time. Gingerly, he took off my backpack put it down, and pulled off my coat. He led me into the bedroom and touched me all over my body, kissing me everywhere. He made love to me, gently, touching me in ways he hadn't in months. And when it was over, he held me close.
I knew this was it. The end. I couldn?t do this anymore. As I hugged him goodbye, I almost couldn?t let him go. I walked out the door, knowing things would be different. Feet from my car I stopped, looking over my shoulder, back towards his apartment. I noticed him standing in the window, watching me leave.
Months past, I e-mailed him daily, a habit I could not seem to break. Occasionally, I would receive a reply. I met another guy; tall, dark, handsome, perfect. After a few months he confessed his love to me, and I wanted to do the same. But I couldn't. When he asked me why, I could only apologize. What was I to say? I can't fall in love with you because I'm afraid. Because I fell for my ex, and I fell hard. And I got hurt big time. He hurt me so badly that I'm afraid to fall in love again because I don?t want it to end like that. I can't. He'd think I was nuts. So I only said I'm sorry, I can't.
The phone rang, and looking down at the caller ID, I almost fainted. I almost didn?t answer it. But curiousity got the better of me. "I wanted to see you. I missed you." I didn?t know how to react; flattered that he missed me, or angry that he hadn't called in months. "Can I see you tonight?" he asked. I had no plans as of yet. I was going to call one of my girlfriends, go out for ice cream, and a movie, then out for coffee. But I hadn't made plans. I could go see him..."Yes...I'll be there in an hour."
As I pulled into his driveway, I thought about changing my mind, calling my girlfriend, leaving him forever. What was I doing here? I took a deep breath, and walked to the front door. He answered, with a huge grin on his face, hugging me tightly. He led me upstairs, and just held me.
He made love to me. It was perfect. He touched me and held me and paid special attention to every part of me. When it was done he held me, and smiled. But there was something hanging over us. Something in the air that needed to be said. "We can't do this anymore," I said. "You have to make a choice. Because I can't come over here and have sex with you anymore. In a little while I will walk out that door. Choice #1: I walk out that door and never look back. Choice #2, I walk out as your best friend, and only that. Choice #3, We start something again." He looked at me, unsure of what to say. "Only one choice allows you to backtrack. If I walk out as nothing, you'll never hear from me again. As as a friend, I will stay a friend. But if we start something, we'll talk. And if we decide that it's not worth starting something again, then we'll be just friends." He looked at me square in the eyes, and gave me his answer.
I walked out the door, knowing things would be different. But where the future would lead, noone knew. As I walked toward the car, I stopped a few feet away, and looked over my shoulder. I saw him in the window, watching me walk away. The choice was made.