So I spent the summer working at a national park. I was a switchboard operator at a hotel there. Through a series of events, I ended up with a guy roomie, L. We kept the relationship as "just friends," though we were more. Actions speak louder than words. And there was plenty of action. You can call something a duck, but it doesn't mean that it's really a duck. (tangent: GO DUCKS!) I think I may have fallen in love with him. In the three months we lived together, partied together, and slept together, we became super close. We're now 2000 miles apart, back in our respective hometowns, and I miss him more than anything.

Someday I will marry that man. And if I don't, then I'll spend the rest of my life alone.

I remember the night we met. We were in a friend's room - we lived on the hotel property in dorms - drinking, and I ended up sitting next to L. I made some comment about how I use guys, get what I want, then kick them out of bed. "Wow, that's cold!" he said, and I replied, "I can be." I was wearing this black lacy shirt that night. It turned out that he was friends with a girl who I worked with at the hotel the summer before. We saw each other around from time to time. The next time I remember speaking to him was at a party out on the island. Not long after that, we became roommates. If my best friend hadn't met her summer love and moved out, L and I would have never gotten to know each other like this. So thank you, BB, for getting me and L together, thank you for suggesting that I take him in as my roommate, thank you for leaving me for penis. Love ya, girl.