Want it So Bad | March 4, 2009
I lie in bed, staring at my revolving ceiling fan, shadows flickering on the popcorn ceiling in my aunt and uncle’s guest bedroom. My friend Steve and I talk late on the phone; he in Chicago, still taking classes, I in Colorado. Steve was one of my best friends at college - well, he was first my crush, until he told me he was gay. Then we really became friends. I tell him about my work, about bible study, and you - all about you.
He tells me about classes, about mutual friends, about his own crushes, and we reach the pause at the end of a conversation that signals the moment to hang up. That’s when I ask him - “Steve, do you think I’ll get married one day?”