Our Song

 Two weeks after I narrowly averted some exactly-what-I-thought-I-wanted and I was still not working up the courage to tell my new girlfriend that I didn't think it was going to work out. I had agonized about it and tried to keep it as un-touchy as possible as I thought of a way to let her down easy. She, however was interested in taking it to the next few levels all at once. This was a mess and I was too much of a coward to call it off. She chased me down in the hall more excited than boded well for a quick and easy breakup. She side hugged me and kissed me on the ear and asked if I wanted to come over to her house that night. I mumbled, equivocated, but because she was most insistent and awfully persuasive I agreed. I got showed, dressed and made up my mind that I was going to tell her that we would be better off as friends. When I pulled up to her house I got a little worried because there were no cars in the driveway and no lights on in the house. No one but one very eager girl was home all alone and waiting for me. Flip. I went up to the door and rang and she didn't come for a little too long so I started to think I was maybe getting stood up. No such luck. She opened the door and threw herself on me wrapped me up in a firm head hug and kissed me in the French style. Flip-dang. We went inside and she lead me back through the dark house to her bedroom to show me some stuff. She had some posters and books and a stereo which was cued up on a mix tape. She turned off the lights except for the glow of the stereo display. She pressed play and gathered me up for a private slow dance. As we swayed in a slow-hug dance she informed me that the song that was playing was our song. Oh, no. This was definitely not heading toward a nice, clean, mutually amicable dissolution of our tacit “going out” contract. This was my last chance to try and end this like a rational mature person and true to form I did not do that. I did finish the song and then as she tried to move the party onto her bed for what I would assume was the make-out portion of the mix tape I suddenly needed a drink. Then things got worse.