8:57 PM 9/26/02 Part two begins here. More to come

"Ok, what else?"

I had a laugh at her expense, and then explained that each of the three incidents counted as an individual piece. We then had a talk about moral lines and where I stood. We started to head back to my car when she asked me a question. "What would you do if I asked you to break one of your set morals?" I paused, for about ten minutes, and then replied. "Not being entirely sure which moral line you may be speaking of I can only answer your question like this. Very few of my morals are set in stone. Most of them are variable, depending on the situation. So, I guess, depending on what you're asking of me the answer goes both ways. Yes and no."

I don't remember what she said after that. We got in my car and started talking more seriously. I explained to her that one of the biggest things causing me concern was the fact that, were she to leave him, she would be leaving the father of her son, shelter and food. A sense of security, if you will. And I wouldn't, couldn't, feel right asking her to do so, unless I was able to offer her the same, if not better. We drove back to my house and I parked. We talked some more. We became physical. I guess there are some things words just can't say. She went home a few hours later.

I later learned that she went home to ugliness. A slightly intoxicated, very irate husband awaited her. Nasty words were flung and apparently shoves were given. That news made me horribly sad.

'If it wasn't for your misfortunes, I'd be a happier person today.' A mindset I kind of acquired during the time that I knew Samantha. I felt so warm and wonderful when I was with her. When I wasn't with her I yearned for her, her presence, her touch, her smell, her taste. I was infatuated, maybe obsessed. I had finally found what I had been looking for, and it was there for me to take. The only problem I encountered was that I couldn't allow myself to take it. One request and my dreams would have been fulfilled. Maybe I was reading too much into the emotions and feelings I perceived in her. Truth be told, I don't know exactly what was going on in her head. I know what she told me, and that excited me. Yet, I still wasn't comfortable with it. Probably falling back on the whole security in life offering I didn't feel I had to give.

We hung out many times afterwards. Many emotions were expressed by both, and many were left unsaid by me. I called my mother. Told her I wanted to talk with her. She asked what it was about. I told her that it was about a girl.

"Is she pregnant?"
"Not recently, no."
"Ok."

We made lunch plans and I went to her place of work at the appropriate time. We went down into the basement and sat down. I told my story, I told Samantha's story, I punched the table and I sobbed. Wept. A great and awe-inspiring cry was had by myself and I ended up breaking my mother's pen. I guess lunch was a success.

I wasn't scared of Mitchell. He was a fear that my mother expressed though. I hardly ever thought of him. I did put myself in his shoes on occasion. I didn't like what I discovered, but as I stated earlier, I'm an asshole.

We took Brady to the park. Oh! What joy! That was one of the greatest things I've ever done. Went for ice cream afterwards. He made a mess. My stomach was doing weird things again. The ice cream stayed down, but it was a struggle.

As much as I enjoyed the time spent with her and Brady I wanted more time with just her. Alone time. Private time. Intimate time. Was I committing adultery? Surely. We never fucked, we could have though. But I had to decline. Wow... writing this makes me feel horrible.

End Part Two.