Instead, we set boundaries. The limits and situations that could tempt us. You were protecting me and also protecting the sanctity of sex. The way you gave me a goofy grin and made that promise then thanked me for helping you have self-control, you don't get much men like that these days.
We spent most of last night sitting across the lake looking up at the brightly lit twin towers and talked about everything. I appreciate your intelligence, your sensitivity. You weren't just listening but really listening if that makes any sense. You understood what was bothering me. You took the time to analyse the situation, my perspective and also explained from your point of view. All without me having to ask and explain. You understood how past experiences could affect current situation, you just understood without me having to force feed you or make a fuss.
But in every perfect scenario, there's a catch. We talked about the very real struggles we both share, differences in our religions that at the same time is so similar in many ways. What we have is mutual respect and affection. But the pending sore would be that both our families probably would not be able to accept it. The very same concept of marrying within your religion.
At the end of the night, you asked if we should label this, us. And you didn't get pissed when I told you it's a bit too soon for that. Instead you simply said, I'll ask again in two months.