03/15/02 - 8:54 p.m.

This one is blond. I don�t want to wake him up. Carefully I slip out of the bed, heading for the pile of clothes in the corner. It�s always difficult trying to decipher my things from theirs in the dark. Somehow I manage to find my panties and I slide them on noiselessly. There is moonlight falling over the bed lighting his face. He looks so young. I can�t help but stop and watch his chest rise and fall in rhythm. His hair falls softly over his contented face and I smile to myself. All the innocence in his face is a hard contrast to the grimaces he wore as he hovered over me the night before.

I just watch, breathing slowly, thinking about how I will slip out of his door and out of his life. Quickly, quietly, completing the perfect night before it can be ruined by an awkward morning. Before clumsy silences and unimportant inquiries; before he can learn my last name.

I tie my last shoelace and force myself out the door before I think any more second thoughts, before I start entertaining the ideas of breakfast in bed.