Bi-Sexual Conundrum.

When he put his hand to my cheek and whispered, breathless and urgent, “I’m not sure if we’re doing the right thing,” what was I to do? I was a good person but I was also a human being. As I lay there with the warmth of his arms, his chest and his legs breathing into mine, the dreams of restless nights rolling off the wetness of his tongue, what was I to do? I put my clothes back on and walked away from all of it. How was I to know that in guilt no one ever wants to be alone? No one asks questions like these with the expectation of foresight or objectivity furnished with the sensibility of reason. In the wavering smile that cast its light towards me by the fading sunset, the only hope that dared to hope was that I too would be equally uncertain, equally aware of the questionable circumstances in which we had both found ourselves. Instead, I saw only a turbulent future stretching out into the horizon - the pain and the mess that emotions and declarations of carpe diem eventually abandon us to. No, the truth is that I allowed myself to think that for once I could break all the laws that govern this absurd universe, and I let my heart go. What then, really happened? I was drunk, but not drunk enough to believe that in the morning we would not be plagued by worries of another empty one night stand. It wasn’t just that either. Where were we supposed to go from there? When all was said and done and clothed once more in the colors of the real world, were we going to think that the world we had created with crumpled sheets and the voices of each begging the other not to stop had now ceased to exist?