Long Lost

The relationship MO has quietly changed. Scott and I used to see each other three to four days a week. He'd call me when he got home from work, shower, and come over. He'd bring his work clothes, walk my dog for me in the morning, and go straight to work.

Now he's over every night. He cooks our meals, we watch TV or a movie, and then he leaves. At first it was a welcome idea. I'd crawl into bed early and clean out my TiVo or watch my Grey's DVDs. But after a couple of weeks, my bed became lonely and the nightmares had slowly crept back.

One night I stood at my front door and watched Scott walk into the hallway. I was fully inebriated from the evening's activities--I left my friends' happy hour and met Scott at the restaurant he used to cook at. The owner had hired a mixologist who was testing recipes for his new restaurant. Glass after free glass of booze was handed to me: celery vodka, gin-champagne, black-cherry rum. I was drunk and I was horny and I wanted my boyfriend to spend the night.

"I miss you spending the night with me!" I blurted to his back.

He turned around and grabbed me. "I'm doing this for us," he said. "For the relationship. For piece of mind."

"So... is this normal?" I asked N. We were in the break room steeping our morning tea. I wasn't hurt or offended, I just wanted to know.

She nodded. "More importantly, it's healthy."