I lived in a dormitory with overtones of a commune. My roommate and boyfriend was a very close match to my elementary school friend Greg B. We had a pretty deep relationship. Anne K came to visit. She was a little cynical, a little dejected, but I didnt know why, and she didnt seem inclined to say why. She was getting into my bed, saying something about hoping I didnt mind if she stayed there. I didnt mind, really, but... Greg got home then. I rose to greet him at the door. We hugged. Quietly, for a long moment. It felt good and right. Anne sensed what was up and got out of our bed, started arranging herself to sleep on the floor. I was relieved and a little surprised at how easily that possible tension had been resolved, and at how okay I was with how it turned out. Not regretful at all. I entertained a brief worry that Greg might have been jealous, or suspicious, but it passed. Woke up feeling, once again, like a slightly pathetic, always romantic, kinda divided, closet homo.