I want to tell you a story.
Ten years ago at this time, I was sitting nervously at Jump'n Java Coffee House on the border of Berkeley and Oakland. I was waiting for Adam. Two days earlier, he'd broken up with his longterm girlfriend. I thought I'd wanted this for years. We knew we cared about each other, but couldn't act on it not only because he was otherwise involved, but because neither of us was ready to do it.
We were meeting up. I didn't know what he was going to tell me. I was freaked out as all hell. For all I knew, he was going to tell me he was totally changing his life, dying his hair purple, moving to Bora Bora, becoming a male exotic dancer. I might never see him again. I might never again hug him or hear his voice.
I sensed change in the air and that scared the living daylights out of me. I hadn't been happy with the situation before, but at least I understood what it was and its boundaries.
He walked in. I said "hi." I think you probably know the rest.
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