Monday, December 11, 2006

Two five

Dear Colin,

You just saved your ass, did you know that?

When you called, I was dressed and ready. Your present was wrapped and sitting on the table next to the door. I made cupcakes. My hair looks good.

I didn't want to go out. Not at 10:00 pm on a Monday. Not when, taking my commute from the East Side into account, I won't even get to the bar until 11:00 pm. But you'll only turn 25 once. And I am willing - as I'm always willing - to sacrifice sleep for you.

When you first called, you mentioned what time Jeff was picking you up. You told me where you were going. You gave me no indication that I was invited. Or welcomed. I was confused. And pretty pissed. But I didn't say anything. I never do. Not until after I have a chance to stew in my irritation. I'll yell, but first I must reach my boiling point. You know that.

It didn't take long for the disappointment to settle in. Tears sprung to my eyes as I snapped my phone shut.

I'd just dropped it onto the table, in disgust, when you called back.

"You're invited, you know that, right? I'm not trying to be a rude and inconsiderate bastard."

Nice save.

And to follow it up with genuine and sweet concern for me, for the time that I have to be at work tomorrow and for the hour it will take me to get to you - that was smooth. I bought it. Every word.

I didn't want to go out tonight, anyway.

Drink with the boys.

We'll celebrate properly on Friday. When I don't have to share you with 20 of your best friends. When you don't have to share me with a rapidly approaching workday.

I'm not mad.

We've got all the time in the world.

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