I sat down all prepared to write about my dinner with Gregg last month when the e-mail arrived.

Being the nosey little bitch I am, I couldn’t focus on anything but the e-mail. Who was it from? Was it from BIG BROTHER? Had they come to their senses and realized they couldn’t spend the summer without me? Or was it from my sweet John? Had he come to his senses and realized he couldn’t spend the rest of his life without me?

Alas, it was from neither.

It was from Michael.

The majority of what he wrote is really neither here nor there. A lot of wanting to get back together to see what is possible, re-establishing what we mean to one another, having hot man-sex, blah blah bitty bitty blah blah. There was also some stuff about something I did that was inconsiderate (his word) which “fucked up my sleep and made me feel as though I wasn’t the most important person in your life. I want to matter!”

But buried deep within the 16 paragraph electronic communication was one sentence that left me feeling sick to my stomach.

“Got tested for all of the best STDs last month, and came up negative on all counts!”

Awesome fucking possum, dude.

We stopped seeing each other in November and in the space of 4 months you have reason to get checked for shit so you can offer up your “clean” slate to me as a selling point?

Jesus H. Christ.

And the sad part is, I have to admit it is tempting. I mean you throw that in with his being separated from a wife he never intends to divorce and wanting to bring a third man into our relationship permanently, and his stock is through the fucking roof. Not.

Sighhhhhhhhhhhhh.

I swear I am thisclose to going straight.