“It’s just not fair to you,” he said, holding my face in his hands.  It was easy for me to forget that Seth was substantially uninformed of most of the goings-on in my life.

“Fairness,” I muttered, holding back the urge to laugh, “isn’t something that’s factored into most scenarios for me lately. It’s nothing I’m not used to.”  He kissed me softly, before jumping up nervously to leave.

I followed him reluctantly into the kitchen as he slid his shoes on, slowly.  He always removed his shoes when he stopped by, in instinctual consideration of my off-white carpeting.  It was one of the tiny little details that made him stand out to me.

“What do you expect of me?” he asked, looking up at me with a slight look of desperation in his eyes.

“I don’t,” I stated, without hesitation.  “I don’t think it’s really my place to have any expectations of you.”

I wasn’t putting on a façade, or trying to tell him something he wanted (or needed) to hear.  It was simply the truth – this unexpected emotional rumble inside me had caught me off-guard as well, and my instinct told me to simply sit on it.  By making no demands of him, a part of me felt more assured that the situation was still within my control.  There was still an innocence to it, and, for the most part, a tremendous amount of self-control on both our parts.  It was still relatively safe.

I never thought of where he went after he left me.  There was no point in it – it would surely drive me to an uncontrollably frustrating state that would leave me jealous and hopelessly wanting.  I was happy to exist in a sort-of fantasy state, where the thought of being with him was still a dream and not a reality.  It was…enough.

He turned for the door, and paused for a moment before turning back to me for one last embrace.  I stood, on my toes, with my face buried in his chest, already desperately wanting the next time, before letting him kiss me goodbye.

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