Remembering birthdays

I've gotten some responses to the new survey. They've mostly been analytical of Miranda's motives and supportive of the idea that I should keep my options open if I sense I'm not going to find what I want.

I spent a lot of time this morning thinking about all this. This was helped by the fact that Miranda and I exchanged emails yesterday after I posted the survey and the post explaining it. She explained that she's been heavily burdened with work and also with the recent death of a friend's husband after a long illness. Nothing like having actual downers in your end-of-year events to make one uncommunicative.

The email exchange convinced me she's serious about this and won't blow things off. I think probably that's my biggest worry. Nobody likes offhand rejection, but at that point in time it would be worse than usual. I also thought about what the circumstance would be if I met someone new at New Year's... could they not wait until the following week, when I'd be recharged on time, money and energy, and when things wouldn't be so emotionally loaded?

It's sort of like last Valentine's Day. Melody and I decided to go out with each other on Valentine's Day even though we were no longer "officially a couple." The reasoning was, we were pretty good friends (we actually still often slept together -- slept, not "had sex") and it relieved the pressure of either of us meeting some new person for Valentine's Day with all the weight that dumps on you over and above simply meeting a new person. Melody tarted herself all up (black blouse, red leather skirt, black nylons, red heels) and we went out to a place we liked and enjoyed ourselves.

Something along those same lines took place on her birthday a month later... I took her out somewhere she really liked, and we had a very nice evening. The difference in this particular evening was that when we got back to her driveway, and I shut the car off, I leaned over and kissed her, and things suddenly lit up like old leaves after a lightning strike, and within minutes I was inside her. We hadn't even ditched all the clothing, just found whatever necessary access was needed for the wet, shiny parts and fucked the living daylights out of each other.

It reminded me of the really animalistic passion she could have sometimes, and while I hoped maybe it was a sign we should be together again, it was actually more like a last volley of fire before she retreated permanently. We never touched each other again after that night. She did say later she had absolutely no regrets about doing it. My guess is, if it had been some new guy, she would have had many.

I doubt anything even remotely like this will happen with Miranda. She doesn't project an outward passion, and from that, I am doubtful of an inward passion that could have survived the last five or six years of her life.

I suppose I'll see.

In any case, my sense of honor will survive the night. Doing the right thing will triumph again over doing the expedient but crappy thing.

Go ahead and fill out the survey anyway, I'm curious what you think about all this.