We lay together on the banks of the stream in the cemetary. It was not dark that night, because of the cloud cover and the reflected city lights. Through the leafless tangled waving willow branches I could not see the stars nor the moon, but still I wished and prayed that I would not stray. But like the weak-stemmed willow I let the wind pull me aside, and I sank my roots deep into the damp earth across the way from you.

The last night that I saw him I handed him the photographs from our roadtrip to Oregon. He touched my shoulders and when we hugged goodbye he burried his head in my neck. I did too, and I meant it. I told him that I was sorry, that I wanted it to be like it was before, but he said No. Does that take the fault away from me? Was it all really his decision? No.

After that I didn't show up, and I haven't returned his calls. Heartless.

One day at work I talked with Sven in the hallway. In my mind I tore through a fabric of neurons and exposed a realization He only said 'I love you' when he thought I was alseep. Sven looks at me and says, You just had an epiphany, didn't you.

Love. Sven says, Maybe it's time you just let go and admitted that you loved someone - even that you love the person that says they love you right now. He's right, but what will it do to me if I tell him that I love him?

I will find out tonight.