Dear Moby Dick,

My dear boy, it happened again! We once more found ourselves in a romantic situation and once again fate managed to bugger it up and leave us both longing and sexually frustrated. And now, our time has passed. I am home, but my mind it still with you, where you are...

"Are you thinking about me?" I wonder as I type this.
"Probably not" as we both have our prospective lives to get back to, and as neither of us are going to become anything more then a mere memory for the other over the passing of time - someone that gets pushed to the front of our minds only when referred to directly. Maybe a certain person, or sound, or smell will trigger something familiar, but other then that, you won't think of me, and I won't think of you.

Right now, however...I am thinking of you. When I first found out that you and I would once again be in the same place at the same time for two whole days, I started to entertain the notion of the two of us getting back together to finish that which we started the year before. I knew you were single, but I didn't want to have any expectations as I'm unfortunately accustomed to be let down in such situations. Imagine my relief when we first locked eyes in the liquor store, and *spark* with a sly smile I knew we would be picking up where we left off.

Alas, we did not make love even once over the weekend. Well - THAT would have been difficult considering we were both sleeping on the freezing cold floor of a basement apartment with five other people. I loved the cuddling though. The kissing. The touching. I've never been one to be so public with my affections, especially when with someone I obviously have no future with beyond the two days we would be in the same city. But I wanted you to know that when I was with you, for the first time I allowed myself to open and be shameless in my actions.

Congratulations, boy! Ya dun good!

My God, I wish there was a more poetic way to say "you made me so hot!" But I suppose THAT will do to get my message across. I wanted you so badly, and I didn't care if anyone knew. I'm still thinking about how much I wanted you. How I wanted you. What I wanted you to do to me.

That being said, please don't think that it was all just physical for me because I liked just hanging out with you as well. I loved how unashamedly snobbish you were when it came to movies, music and especially books. Usually I find it such a turn off. I think it was the passion with which you spoke that really DID IT for me. Honestly, our talk in your car about Russian Literature made me want to return to Tolstoy and Solzhenitsyn.

I wonder if I am ever going to see you again. I would like to. I would like to see you, and get to know you, and fuck you. After two unsuccessful attempts to sleep with you, I wonder if you won't simply be my White Whale. The one I came close to, but never caught. I guess only time will tell. I'll always think of you fondly though if I never do see you again. I hope you know that...