Your talk on fate led me to hope I'd find you at the shop in time, and have a night of words with you, just words, some kissing, no sex - we'll get to that later, I'm quite certain of that.

0330 EST: Jerked off thinking about you

0343 EST: Obi and Ivy suddenly wake up as I was thinking of crawling across their sleeping bodies. I took advantage of the moment and spewed something out to Obi about sneaking out, hitting the island early on in the morning, and calling him in the afternoon. "Don't ask," I said. He didn't. I still feel bad, though, about disappearing all day on them and not coming home for dinner. I kissed his half asleep lips and got ready.

0350 EST: Stumbled my way in the darkness to the door, warmer clothes, change of underwear and bra stashed in my bag, tits flapping about.

0355 EST: Stopped at a payphone on Macdougal to call the shop, got Alex downstairs...repeated the store number while searching for had left not two minutes earlier, damn! Rushed over anyway as my busted shoelace made it near impossible to walk. Asked amigos if you were still around and you luckily were walking up Sixth at that moment in time, with chicas. At that moment I already knew that I wasn't going to be able to whisk you away. My damn optimism made me ask anyway. Thanks for the offer to shoot pool, but I passed because of the company, really. Nothing personal against them, just not what I had a taste for this particular evening. Besides, I was already mentally prepared to find somewhere to curl up and write since I couldn't go back to the house once I left there.

0715 EST: Sittin' on the LIRR listening to an old kooky lady ramble onto strangers. One guy mentions taking too much LSD when he was younger and says that he feels like he's still tripping, a comment which completely goes over her head. I'm waiting for the opportunity after she leaves to turn around and ask if this counts as a bad trip. Spent an hour or so at the in Times Square earlier, checking email: Frank didn't go to Boston to visit Kate because the train ride would have consumed half the weekend; Yet another couple seeking a bi female (*rolling my eyes*); Tons of emails on my Burning Man lists, which I'll read when I have more patience. My connection was downright frozen, so I ended up having to write it down in my notebook anyway by hand. I suppose fate prevented me from posting an angsty love letter to the boyfriend for a reason.

The old lady has stopped chattering, and with the silence my mind draws a blank except for names repeating in my head...Obi, Frank, Kate, even Danny, my ex - and greatest love to date - is there. I'd be lying if I said you weren't on my mind, though my mind throws in other streams of consciousness along with that thought, replaying words exchanged in the past hours: Player, Poly, Fate, Sex Drive, "Fresh Meat," Jaded, Piercing, Psychology, Lust, Girlfriend...what takes the cake though is you saying "don't look into my eyes for too long." I can't help but think, "why not?"

You don't know me, "Bangher," but I already know you, if not your story. And my heart welcomes you.