So I asked him...I said, "What, exactly, are you going to do? I mean, do you have a plan?"

And he just looked at me for a moment. Then sighed before saying "I mayfly. I may not. Either way, I think it's still best that you go."

He turned his head, and I walked away.

I haven't seen or talked to him since then. I thought I saw him the other day, on the screen at the Dairy Dip, but it wasn't him. The butt was all wrong. But still...it gave me a start, ya know?

Some days I feel like I'm really making progress. That I'm moving on. And then, some quiet night, I'll hear the patter of wings on the window, or that funny little scritching noise he makes when attaching himself to the screen for the night. Next thing I know, I'm running to the window with tears in my eyes and heart racing...and it's a moth. A fucking moth. Or a June bug. And then it hurts all over again. Like it happened yesterday.

But I'm ready. I really am. I'm ready to move on. To take the next step.

So what do you suggest, Raid or Black Flag?

Labels: eye candy Friday, The Fly Who Loved Me