We spent the day Christmas shopping, and even after all our hook-ups, I never felt more like a couple with him.  Even though we weren’t.  Totally weren’t.  But he made me laugh and asked my opinion for presents for his sisters and he would touch the small of my back to lead me into stores.  When it got late, we stood on the bridge to watch the sunset and the river.  Although so incredibly cheesy –it was quite romantic to just stand there.  I liked that we didn’t talk, just watched the muscrats fight the river’s current and the sky turn from pink to dark purple.

He looked at me when I laughed at a muscrat clumsily jumping off the pile of sticks and said, “Do you realize we’ve known each other for three months and have yet to kiss sober?”

I stared at him, that was a fact, that yes, I did indeed know. 

“So … are you 100-percent sober right now?”

Somehow, I wish we would have ordered wine with lunch so I could deny it.  Instead, I flat out rejected him.

“Yeah, I decided we’re not going to do that anymore.”

As soon as the words were spoken, I wished I could take them back, that I could compromise my morals and have that moment with a beautiful guy with the long eyelashes and curly hair.  A sober moment.  Because the sunset!, and the bridge! and the flirtatious day of shopping!  It would have been perfect.  And I ruined it.

Because inasmuch as his efforts throughout the wonderful day had felt like an unspoken apology for the previous evening, I couldn’t ignore that I was hurt he took my roommate home from the bar. 

But it would have been a beautiful moment.

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