I Love my Brown Boy!

I spent the night with my RomiE last night. Take THAT you evil demon spawn, WW! But it was time we most needed to share.

I went to lunch with him on Monday, I think it was... right after class and it was awkward talking to him without tagging every sentence with an I love you, at the end. We kept everything very simple, very nonchalant, very low key—no eye contact, stare at the ceiling, admire the art on the walls, eat briskly, talk about the weather; remind him it's cold. We had Sbarros for lunch, the pizza joint, in the food court area of his office building. Quaint.

He looked great—he did everything but shine like a penny, or gold coin, I love my RomiE, he is so brown **ken sighs***.

But I spent the night with him last night. I walked in the house and I could tell that he’d been smoking inside, a promise he intended to keep, until we broke up—he figured no use for it. The bedroom looked empty but familiar—all of my things had been returned to my parents house so I had nothing of mine there except for the slippers I gave him… and him. I told my little sister, whom I confide in often, that I was going to RomiE’s house last night. I almost promised her that RomiE suggested I come over so we can “talk” and end this foolishness, make up, and wake up to resume where we left off. But we didn’t.

We talked, Romie and I, but not about getting back together—he wanted to give me a sense of closure. He thought he owed it to me. We concluded faulting the principle of the issue. He realized I wasn’t budging on my decision and I realized he wasn’t either—no compromising, no deal, I guess. I love my Brown Boy. He kissed me last night, first time we had touched in what feels like an eternity. In fact, I was so busy feeling sangry (sad&angry=sangry) I hadn’t noticed I missed kissing him so much. He kissed me and I got t’thinking I might be looking head-first into a kissless future—a kissless future and no RomiE. So I kissed back. I’m sure neither of us expected to get as carried away as we did but I love my Brown Boy… and if I can’t get carried away with him then who can I get carried away with?...—my thoughts exactly. I love my Brown Boy.