Slipping, Slipping, Slipping I once went on a last-minute camping trip with a good friend. It was well after 11:00 when we finally made it there and met up with his girlfriend and a few of her friends. Among those friends were two ladies in particular, one of which I had a crush on and the other who had a crush on me.

Shortly after we arrived, the ladies all came to help us unload, although we packed very light because we were told there was a camper for us to sleep in. Looking at the camper, though, there were only two beds - one for my friend and his girlfriend, and another, a bit bigger (but not by much), that I looked at curiously.

The girl who had the crush on me filled in the missing information. I would be sharing that bed with her and the other girl, the one that I wanted.

I think most guys, if presented with this situation, would just grin and drift off into a lewd daydream, which is exactly what I did. But the more we sat around the campfire drinking, the more I noticed unnerving things that made my grin disappear. Glances, interruptions, comments. Compliments. The whole night, I felt as though I was being challenged into making a choice. By the end of the night, I had. I crept away from the group unnoticed and slept uncomfortably in the back seat of my car.

This was no resolution to anything. Relationships and romances went on for years afterwards, meandering awkwardly between the three of us, like I never quite found a decisive grip on indecision.  ¶ 7:11 PM