Because of my previous post, I came to the conclusion that an explanation was needed, for whoever my audience may be and for myself as well (I need to put this in words to prove to myself that its real . . . or something along those lines.) Ah. Well, let's just say, as a precursor, everything is going to change.

So, he finally did it, and by him I mean, John. So what could he have done that would have pulled me into a state of chaos, you ask? Well, he . . . decidedly took that step to move our "relationship" in the next "direction," if you get my gist, and well if you know about my relationship with John, you will know that there isn't much further where we can go . . . other than marriage.

We entered into one of those unspoken relationships back in November, one of those where you end up spending all this time with each other, while living separately, but then one day, unnoticeable, he just never left, and we started living together. Of course, I know, to readers, that your thinking "This started in November? and you're already pushing marriage into the mix? what are you crazy?" But alas! we've known each other for years.

Ever since I moved here actually, into my small flat on the same block as his. I hit him with my car . . . and consequently hauled his unconscious body into my car and drove (for about three blocks until stopping to ask for directions) him to the hospital. When he gained consciousness and the hospital cleared him to go, I drove him back to his house . . . without conversation other than his couple of short words mumbled " . . . it's okay . . . don't call the police . . . I'm not going to press charges." Then we separated.

The next day in the early 7 a.m. morning, I hear a banging on my door. I open it and it turned out to be the man I hit, John. He asks me to go out to breakfast with him and says that I can't refuse, so naturally, I pull on a sweater and pants and go with him. We've been friends ever since.

Together, we've never really talked about our said "relationship." It's just been. But today he had to bring it up . . . well not really. He just instigated the fact that if I ever wanted to, he would completely be open to getting married . . . and then I didn't respond, which I know on my part was probably a bad action, but hell, I was shocked. I was in that state contentedness, taking a bite out of wonderful mango . . . and he said it . . . making me choke slightly.

Then, of course, my silence made him believe that I didn't have the same opinion as him, so he began to get his feathers ruffled, going on and on about he should have "expected" that kind of reaction from me . . . because that's how I am . . . stagnant, never wanting things to change, never wanting to tie myself to one thing . . . just blah. That's about when he called me a blank page with no room for words . . . hence the title . . . and then he left . . . didn't even take his freshly toasted bagel with him.

So what am I left to do? Think about it? I know, I shouldn't have stumbled . . . shouldn't have paused . . . because in all reality I feel the same for him as he does me, it just don't want to admit it. However, I know I'll have to . . . I suppose I'll call him tomorrow and tell him so, before this drama becomes too much to bear. For now, Gin's coming over and we're going to pretend as if I've been seriously "cast aside" as she put it by a former lover.

In her words . . . "if you actually go through with this . . . with John and everything, you'll never get to have depressing drunken get togethers with me when you get dumped (as if with had them already) . . . so we might as well spend this night pretending you've been cast aside . . . by some lover . . . hmm, let's make him Italian.

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