Maybe Happiness is a Baby in a Baby Carriage--And, Of Course, Marriage

"I know I have a problem sharing my emotions. I know that it's my fault," Morpheus tells me. "I have a problem trusting people, especially with trusting women...Where we are at, it's all my fault."

I tell him while drinking wine, and holding my hand over my heart that I have this fantasy, something I can't let go of--that someday, we will finally be together, and that I believed we would be happy together. Not that we wouldn't fight, because we would, but we could still be happy.

"What do you want from me?" I ask him plainly.

"I want you to be happy." He's given this answer before.

"I'm happy with you, not that I'm not happy in other areas of my life, because I am..." It reminds me of the movie Suicide Squad, which isn't an extraordinarily good movie, but it has its moments. During one part, Dr. Harley Quinn, who is just crazy piled on with more crazy, has this fantasy--the great desire of her life-- to have a normal family (with children) with the Joker (who you see in a normal suit and tie, without the weird makeup and hair style). That was it. Nothing extravagant, nothing fancy--just the life that a lot of average people play out everyday. If you had to ask me, I would give up any man for Morpheus, I would give up all those personal freedoms that single people have, and I would trade it in for a marriage, and even as I've been thinking today, maybe for a baby--even though, throughout most of my life, I never wanted those things.

When I look at him, I'm so overcome with love that I want to wrap him up in that white blanket and protect him forever, and at the same time, I want to fuck out his brains.

"In the beginning, you don't think with your dick, and all you care about is sticking it in, I didn't have a plan," he confesses to me.

Over the phone, before I even arrived at his house, he said, "When did you become committed to this?"

"I mean, this is going to sound superficial, but I'll say it anyway. I liked you, I did, but it wasn't until I had sex with you, that I was like, 'Whoa, I'm going in deep.' I remember brushing out my hair and staring in the mirror, and realized how much trouble I was in." Honestly, I don't remember any of that directly, but I wrote it all down. So, that's how I can recall the events.

When I stepped into that kitchen of his, I saw how he looked at me, and I knew that he was looking at me just as he did ten years ago. I could see he was still attracted to me, even though that was a major doubt floating in my mind for the past few months. He still wanted me.