I guess I've given up on sleep for the night.

I developed a bit of a fever this evening. I hope I didn't catch it (or give it to) my grandmother while I was at her house setting up this 1960s technology medical alarm doohickey.

So anyway, I got this fever, and I laid down at about 7:00. For the night, I thought.

Wrong.

I woke up a little while ago and, though I'm still feverish, sleep is beyond me.

What woke me up was dreaming about this one part of this one night last Summer. One night a week before the first part of this entry happened.

That night, my dear readers, was what you call a golden opportunity.

A golden opportunity to be like every other guy on the planet. A golden opportunity to jump in, dick first, without a care in the world for what would happen later.

After all, what could be better? She'd just broken up with her boyfriend in front of my eyes. We'd both been drinking. There was nobody else around. I had, for a while at least, her undivided attention. We even hugged each other goodnight, first time that had happened. It wouldn't have taken much to press things further. To see where they might lead.

Yep, a golden opportunity. A wasted one.

I did nothing.

For you see, I'm not the type of guy that's going to make a move on someone that's been single for less than two hours. I'm not the type of guy that's going to hit on a girl that's been drinking heavily. And I'm most definitely not the type of guy that's going to try anything with a friend of mine unless I know damn well that's what she's wanting me to do.

I hardly ever think about that night. I have plenty of other moments, much more dramatic, seemingly much more pivotal, to occupy my mind. I don't think I've really thought about that particular night in months. But I'm thinking about it right now, and I'm thinking, once again, that I'm a dumbass.

Everything hinged on that night, on those two seconds when we pulled away from our brief embrace. Nothing that's happened since then would have been the same, if only I'd been like every other guy on the planet. If I'd just leaned back in. Put my hand aside her face. Pulled her to me. Tasted her lips. Things may not have turned out well - they probably wouldn't have - but I'd fucking know. I'd know and I wouldn't still be guessing a year later.

Every once in a while, something happens, or doesn't happen. Something that's important. A brief period that doesn't seem like much at the time but turns out to be one of the most important moments in a person's life.

I could have tried, failed, and then moved on.

I could have tried, and succeeded, only to have things fall apart later, and then moved on.

I could have tried, and succeeded, and been deliriously happy for the rest of my life.

These were some of the the paths that lay in front of me on that night last Summer. I chose instead to do nothing. To just stand there. A part of me is still standing there I suppose. Wondering.