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The next morning I had to face Kassya's roommate. I had that good-morning hair and the previous night's party
clothes. I said," Hi, how are you? You got any orange juice?" One look at her face and I knew what she was thinking, "What kind of slut
have I moved in with? She's here for eight hours and..."
After that night Mr Slow-and-Easy became like a tick. You could have burned my arse with three thousand hot match heads, and I still wouldn't have let go.
When a man is with the right woman, one day he must actually declare his love. Saying, "I really like you," "I'm crazy for you," or "You're more fun than the Home Ec. teacher," just won't cut it anymore. I'd bit my lip bloody for weeks, trying not to tell Kassya that I'd loved her from the first date. Finally, I couldn't contain myself and I went back down to Sydney to see her. We were standing in a restaurant car park, three weeks after our first night together, and I said, "I've got to tell you something."
The worst part is that she didn't say it back. When you say you love a woman and she doesn't respond in kind, certain things go through your head like, "She's going to change her phone number in the morning." Suddenly I felt like a candidate for one of those talk shows where you have the tearful reunion five years later...
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