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2003-01-08 - 11:10 a.m.

It's snowing here. It's cold and white and grey and slushy and wind whips against the studio windows.

So why am I so warm inside?

Marie came to visit me, after talking since March, we ended up getting very close, not in any romantic sense, but close nonetheless.

Everytime a boy hurt her, everytime I made progress with my workout goals, everytime she got into her ridiculous self-loathing bouts, every frustrated conversation telling her that she wasn't anything but normal, not crazy, not ugly, nothing but a regular girl, with regular problems, she'd always walk away from conversations with me feeling a bit better about herself and her problem, whatever it may have been that day (I hope).

About June we started noticing that we were alot alike, and had tons in common about romance, family, faith, art, humor, travel, life....everything except the physical stuff.

I'm not prince charming.

I KNOW this.

I'm not good looking, I'm not anything but a work in progress. I know that I'm going to make my body better, and have made huge strides in that department, but I'm not the kind of person girls hurt their necks snapping their heads around to turn and watch me walk by.

I never will be.

She is. And she's not 21 yet.

I'm 11 years older than her and it scares me. Not for myself, I know myself alot better than I did even a year ago. Not for Chloe, because she's got sitters, and nannies, and friends of mine who are girls who she accepts as part of my life, and has been through two moves already in her 4 years of life.

I am scared because I care about Marie so much. I want her to experience life and not go through what I went through, that feeling of making a huge mistake that can't be reversed or undone. That feeling of obligation and resolution that all decisions and choices have been made.

Regardless of the fact they may be the right ones.

I know we're happy when we're together, and have always connected when we've talked,


on the phone,

in person,

over dinner,

in bubble baths,

in bed,

on the streets,

the train,

at the theatre,


The background of where we are and what we're doing blurs and it's just the two of us. It feels wonderful.

Yes, she's young, and there's an obvious,undeniable allure involved there. No, bullshit, it's amazing to have her affection and I love it.

She says she loves me. She says she sees us aging together, making two more babies, sharing careers, and paths, lives, responsibilities, beds, futures...everything.

She says she aches and has found what she's always dreamed of....that it's not fleeting, and is tangible.

How can she know?

I want her to graduate first, have her degree, and focus on herself, and her life, her needs, her personal growth.....I need that, because I want her happiness to come from within, and I would do whatever I needed to to make her happy.

I would keep her.

I want her next to me everyday.

The few times I've felt love, I've always questioned whether "SHE" was the "ONE". It hit me like a ton of bricks that not once, have I thought that about Marie. Not for an instant.

It feels so incredibly right, so balanced, that I haven't even questioned it.

In Vienna, we walked for about five hours, in the rain, just holding hands, seeing the city, staring into storeshop windows, and each other.

In Budapest, visiting museums with Chloe and her, doing our best to get the "Photo Police" to chase us down to see our half-hidden photo-authorization badge, enjoying seeing their excited faces go slack when they realize they didn't bust us.

The tram or taxi rides home....never a moment in which I wasn't completely happy. And I'm sure that both of them really like each other. They hit it off much quicker than I expected.

Chloe in bed, after spending the days together, three of us, now time for just Marie and I, to talk and pretend we're not running out of days, hours, minutes...till she flies again.

I want to see her light up....long bubble baths, at the end of the day.

Drying her off, kissing her neck, candles in the bedroom,

coins on certain french doors, (alarms)

wet embraces,

damp hair,

towels on the floor,

kiwis, homemade caramel sauce, powdered sugar on white china,

hot earl grey tea for her

candles, shadows on the wall


snowy windows and noisy sixty year old heaters filling with steam the only sounds we hear besides our own voices

all night long.

I'm trying so hard not to question any of it, and just enjoy her company, and hope it lasts.

i'm trying so hard not to let her rush things, so nobody loses, so if it's real it will be real in 3 years, when she's graduated, and ready to move forward in her life.

Those are the only things I'm trying hard at.

The rest of it comes so easily.

Such a rambling mess, I know.

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