Christmas was the loneliest time I had ever spent around JD. Who I thought would be pasting fake antlers on his head or running around snickering at Silver Bells was actually staring out the window, shuffling the last bit of dinner on his plate. It wasn't so romantic like I had planned. The wine was still under the tree, a big red bow attached to the label. And my new black sweater hadn't even began to tease him. I was tired. And he was depressed. Merry Christmas, Karen. Can't wait for a Happy New Year...

Karen's just sitting there. She doesn't even notice exactly how nervous just breathing around her makes me. She makes me want to grow up. And sometimes, that makes me cry. Because out of all the people who I ever even remotely showed an interest in, none of those ladies jerked at me enough to change myself. Which is why after Christmas ends, and tomorrow I wake up and go to Mass with Turk and Carla, still holding Karen's hand, I'm gonna leave her. I don't think I'm ready to be there for somebody.

We're dancing. No music, no snuggling, just a small little waltz almost. Well, more like that first slow dance you had in 8th grade and were afraid to touch your partner. But still, he just looks at me like it's the last time he's gonna feel free to kiss me. His lips barely graze my nose and I turn away. Because tomorrow after he carries me off to Mass with the Turks and I smile and curtsy for Dr. Cox and his lovely wife Jordan, I'm gonna come home, and I'm gonna leave. No forwarding address.

So here it is, that dreaded moment where she sleeps naked and you pretend to pack your junk into a pair of flannel boxers. I wanna grab her, wanna have her wrap those 1,000 mile legs around me one more time. That's what I call closure. But no, she tucks the sheet around her curves, and I kiss that red hot cheek goodnight. She wants to smile. She doesn't. I lay on my back all night long half staring at the ceiling and half thinking of a way to talk myself into a justifiable answer as to why I'm doing what I'm doing. She flicks the radio on and cries. And I never say a word.

I'm dreaming of a white Christmas...one to take me away from the coldest bed in the world. JD kissed me goodnight. I hated him for that. Making me feel loved. I want him to touch me, just graze my body enough for me to jump him, even if I do result in a Re-Run fantasy dream. Re-Run, funny. God, I'm in love with a child! How does Carla do it? How does he handle a job, kids, and a husband all at once? I don't know. Maybe she talked herself into loving Turk. Or maybe...they just have what we didn't. A reason to go on. Whatever the reason, it has to be better than this. I'm crying, all over the pillow, all over my hair. And he never turned his head.

Morning time, she's cleaned up nicely, I must say. She got her new beaded black dress on, clean black pumps, and her hair pulled back gently into a loose ribbon. I love that about her. See, Karen need never wear a drop of cover up but just the small touch of a red ribbon makes her look like Salyma Hayek, Nicole Kidman, Angelina Jolie, and that really hot skinny from Starsky and Hutch all rolled into one. She's beautiful. She fumbles with her black pearls. And for some instinct or another, I help her. She holds up her hair and I snap those 100 dollar babies in place. I bought them for her last Christmas. She liked them.

I look bad, I feel bad, and my breath is kicking bad. What's a girl to do? Oh well, smile and wave, as my mother always said. JD's been staring at me on and off. He's nice, he's got on that really slick black suit with the burgundy shirt and my favorite black tie. And I guarantee, you lean into him, he smells like Old Spice. My favorite. I really never owned any jewelry, JD bought me a nice set of black pearls last year. I don't want to wear them. I do. It's horrible. I know he's watching me and all I can do is fumble with the ridiculously small neck strap and act as if I know what I'm doing. He walks over, I just pray for him not to touch me. He does. He fixes it with ease. And I turn around. He gives me a small smile, and I return it.

I leaned in, I found my hands on her hips.

I bit my lip, God I'm like a school girl.

I wonder if my hair is nice?

His hair needs a comb, it can wait.

I kiss her.

He kissed me. And all of a sudden...

I'm not leaving...

Anymore.

Anymore.