The next step needs to be about me!

After leaving a voice mail for Bozo on Sunday and not hearing, in my infinite wisdom, while battling a bit of insomnia at 4:30am on Tuesday, I decided it would be a good idea to send him a text message . . . "So ur not gonna return my call? That answers my question. Thanks." Every time I start to move on, even in the slightest, he contacts me. Last night was no exception. He decided to reply with "What was your question?". Well, he got it today. I wrote a long letter to him telling him the question was that I wanted clarification as to what kind of relationship he wanted with me . . . friendship, bed buddy, something more, so that I could then decide what I wanted. Well, with the help of a friend, I took an email that was wishy washy and made it about protecting me. I have no idea how he'll respond. Logically, I know it is right for me and my well-being. Inside, it hurts. Damnit! What do I want now . . . well, for him to come a runnin' and start a courtin'! And it could happen . . . probably the same day Miami sees a blizzard! Ah well, I am in town the weekend and will spend it at the Palace . . . lots of liquor and probably some grab ass with the troops! Damn the Latinos . . . full speed ahead . . .