I had that conversation with M.I. last night, in the middle of the hustle and bustle of Blue Ribbon Bakery and on the walk home.
Apparently, I am just not good enough at reading between the lines. Quite simply, M.I. loves me like he loves any other friend. The late night calls to say he is safely tucked into bed, the invitations to have dinner with him, the confidences and conversations, the holding of my hand, the use of an affectionate "pet" name, the utterance "I love you", etc. are all friendly things with no ulterior motives. This is fine with me, as I had not built up any expectation given our past history and his candor on Monday.
Amidst my prevailing sentimental and emotional confusion (not attributable to M.I.), the last thing I want to deal with is a person that only complicates my life and doesn't really add much to it. Yes, M.I. is a form of company/companionship, but so is my dog. And my dog is, at least, unconditional.
A.B.
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