"So then what is it," I said.
Cameron doesn't say anything for a while and then he says, almost unbelievably, "Well, I just wanted to figure out where we are with each other right now."
"I don't know, where do you think we are," I say.
This does not have to happen, I realize. He says he wants to get back to the point where he feels like he doesn't have to start all over again. And, it is true, I don't know what we are. I love him and I don't know what to do with him. It is all so confusing sometimes.


A cop and I shared an elevator once. I had asked him if he was out looking for bad boys on the run. This was at an old college dorm a couple of years ago.
"Have you been a bad boy?" he asks me.
I smile and look at the elevator floor indicator.
"That depends on what your definition of bad is, officer."

He runs his fingers through my hair. I kiss his finger, the one with the silver ring he never takes off. I can hear him exhale on my cheek. The sunlight is almost too intense, too honest.
"I love being this quiet with you."
His hairy thigh rubs against mine, and I can feel the warm of the inside of his thigh caress against mine.