He was not my boyfriend. On the other hand, he wasn't just a friend either. Instead, our relationship was elastic, stretching between those two extremes depending on who else was around, how much either of us had to drink, and other varying factors. This was exactly what I wanted, as commitments had never really been my thing. And it wasn't like it was hard, either. The only trick was never giving more than you were willing to lose.

Look,” he said, “the point is there’s no way to be a hundred percent sure about anyone or anything. So you’re left with a choice. Either hope for the best, or just expect the worst.”If you expect the worst, you’re never disappointed,” I pointed out.Yeah, but who lives like that?

As I rolled over, stretching out, my only thought was to go back to the dream I'd been having, which I couldn't remember, other than that it had been good, in that distant, hopeful way unreal things can be.

Don't try to be the missing key in my life, and I won't be the unmatched lock, that doesn't let you in.

Within my heart a garden grows,wild with violets and fragrant rose.Bright daffodils line the narrow path,my footsteps silent as I pass.Sweet tulips nod their heads in rest;I kneel in prayer to seek God's best.For round my garden a fence stands firmto guard my heart so I can learnwho should enter, and who should waiton the other side of my locked gate.I clasp the key around my neckand wonder if the time is yet.If I unlocked the gate today, would you come in? Or run away?