the plot thickens

Are you sick of hearing about him yet? My German? Because there’s more…I can’t believe it, but there’s more.

Reluctantly, I had given him my email address.  I say reluctantly, because I really didn’t want to do it. I didn’t want to end an amazing weekend only to mar its memory with sporadic emails dwindling in romance and frequency until the whole thing became as bland as the stale dumplings we’d shared our first night together in Czech. But he’d asked for it, and I’d said sure, wondering, even then, if there was some chance he might not use it.

I had barely touched down at JFK when I read his first message:

“Hey Longsleeper, I waited for you at breakfast, but you never came…[other stuff]…I finally arrived in Copenhagen at 4:30 am…[other stuff]…and again, the bed was empty…how are you?…[other stuff]…when will I see you again?…kiss, Markus.”

Is it weird that I already missed him? We exchanged a few more emails, talking about nothing in particular, until a few days later he said he was booking a ticket to The States. I didn’t know how to respond, so I didn’t respond at all. His next message gave the exact dates that he would fly out to visit. Alone.

“Please don’t feel awkward,” he’d said. If  you are busy, or have other plans, just let me know. Don’t feel obliged for anything…I just wanted to see you again.”

So here it stands.  I have vacillated between emotions of every extreme.  I want to see him. I’m excited to see him. But I just don’t know what to expect, and that freaks me out a little. Or maybe a lot. He’ll arrive here in just a little over two weeks. I’m at a loss.

Umm…help?

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