It is 2 am. I want sleep. But if I dare to lie down this raw throat of mine will be rocked by coughing and sleep won't come. It avoids convulsing bodies. If I exhaust myself enough maybe I can sleep sitting up? Not yet. I cleaned and did laundry for a while starting at 1 am and now I am here, trying not to count the hours until I can call the doctor, trying not to wonder what this lack of sleep (this is night #2) is doing to my already ailing body. I didn't log on to get pity though. I have a story, from my past that won't leave. It needs telling. My girls, when they are old enough to appreciate the complicated dances of attraction that we play, will love it. This is for them.

T can be entrancing. I like to watch him, to listen to him talk. His brain moves swiftly, much faster than any other person I know and it idles on topics that interest, almost always (it's the sports gear that I don't care for so much). But long before I knew that T's intellect was attractive, I noticed he was attractive.

I was a freshman in college. I'd seen T, a junior, several times helping to lead the Christian meeting I checking was out. He stood out as a TDH(you know Tall, Dark, and Handsome). And he was older, which was appealing. I can remember the exact concrete flanked corner I was turning to go to the food service the first time I actually met T. We were both with friends who knew each other. We were introduced.

My maiden name is Bippus. It's unique. T noticed. Not one to charm the ladies, his very first question to me was, "Bi-pus? Does that mean two pussing wounds?"

Nothing in my relationship with T has followed storybook romance. I don't mind. This story still makes me laugh.