Goodbye, Marco

Put the champagne glasses away. It's not necessarily what you think.

You see, I can't tell you what happened. Not for the moment; maybe not for a long time. It was magic, that's no word of a lie... but for now, I want to keep that magic for myself. I need to keep it for myself, if only for a little while.

Then again I'm not totally merciless, and while I said I wouldn't write about *exactly* what happened, I didn't say you couldn't guess. So here are your options:

A) That night, I gave myself to one of my dearest friends, Marco. No, we gave ourselves to each other. We made intense, passionate love until the sun came up, and it was an experience like no other. This is one of the most important people in my life, after all, and something the both of us have been waiting for. It was beautiful, it was perfect, and it was a night like no other. I will cherish the memory forever.

B) Alas, neither one of us was ready for the next step, not with each other. But, that didn't stop us from making out like horny 15-year olds until the sun came up. Marco sent me off to Petra with swollen lips and two giant hickeys on my neck, covered under gobs of concealer. It was beautiful, it was perfect, and it was a night like no other. I will cherish the memory forever.

C) Marco is Marco, and I want to keep him that way, always. I know my life, I know where it is going, and there are relationships I don't want to jeopardize. Funny thing being Marco wanted to keep me the way that I was, too, and I was good with that. We talked and we connected until the sun came up, just like our days past. It was beautiful, it was perfect, and it was a night like no other. I will cherish the memory forever.

As for what really went down, I can give you this one extra tidbit: what happened was exactly what needed to happen. For the first time in his four days with me, I was completely at peace. And I still am.

We settled in for an hour's sleep; Marco's cab was coming at 6am, and so was ours. When we woke up he was shivering and running a fever, a kickback from having the flu a week before. I was concerned and wanted to help, but he assured me he'd be fine after a little more sleep. I packed, he rested some more, then quickly got himself together right before the driver called up. His taxi was here.

I walked Marco down to the ground floor, but instead of going straight outside, he put his luggage down at the bottom of the steps. "For a private goodbye," be explained, then wrapped me up in a gigantic bear hug that lifted me off the ground and made me catch my breath. "I would love to kiss you, but I'm sick. I want you to always know... that I loved Amman because of you."

That part made me speechless. After a couple of minutes, I helped him with his bags and we walked outside to the waiting car. The cabbie was loading up the trunk when Marco stood in front of me one last time and quietly said, "Goodbye."I fixed his collar, kissed his forehead, we hugged once more, and I told him goodbye. And then he got into the taxi.

When I'm seeing someone off, I usually wait until the car is out of sight to go back inside. I didn't wait for Marco's car to disappear around the corner; I went back into the building right away. I didn't want him to see me cry. Not again. I sat on the entrance steps that early morning in a futile attempt to collect myself before going back up to the apartment, thinking of the past few days and the amazing man that had been a part of it.

I loved Amman because of you, too.