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"  Justin and I hit the road at the butt crack of dawn on Saturday morning (we borrowed his brother&amp;#039;s Jeep\u2026anyone who has a car in New York City is a God to me).  It was a four-hour trip to Vermont, and the roads were practically deserted. I was feeling happy and cozy, jamming along to 80s beats with a piping hot peppermint tea between my hands when suddenly, Justin pulled over onto the side of the road.  &amp;quot;What are you doing?&amp;quot;  Justin killed the engine and looked over his shoulder to make sure no one was around. Then he wrapped his hand around the back of my neck and kissed me. &amp;quot;I just want you so badly,&amp;quot; he murmured.  &amp;quot;My man-pants do bring all the boys to the yard.&amp;quot; I tugged at the sides of Justin&amp;#039;s oversized sweats with &amp;quot;Redskins&amp;quot; emblazoned down the side of the leg, which I hadn&amp;#039;t bothered to change out of before we left his apartment at 6:30 a.m.  &amp;quot;Let&amp;#039;s crawl in the back,&amp;quot; Justin said.  &amp;quot;Are you serious?&amp;quot;  Instead of answering, Justin kissed me again. This time, longer and softer than before. My toes curled in my snow boots. Sold.  With about as much grace as JLaw ascending the stairs to receive her Oscar, I wedged myself between the front seats and all but face planted in the back seat, emitting a guttural &amp;quot;Oomph&amp;quot; as I did. That Justin was able to get an erection after that is a testament to our chemistry, I&amp;#039;d say.  We wiggled around until we were half-naked enough to consummate the act, trying to stay as low to the seat as possible, so that if a station wagon full of children were to drive by, we would not rob them of their innocence. I have to say, with Justin forced to lie flat on top of me and slide up and down my body, I had one of the most intense orgasms I&amp;#039;ve ever had, and in record time. I just might have to put car sex on regular rotation\u2026 When we arrived at the (absolutely charming) bed and breakfast in Vermont, we checked in, took a shower together, had sex again, then hit the slopes. By hit the slopes, I mean Justin zipped around like a non-ginger version of Shaun White while I struggled to remain upright on the board. After a few hours of ass-bruising humiliation, we grabbed a bite to eat and went back to the hotel for our &amp;quot;couples massage.&amp;quot; Now, we&amp;#039;re talking, I thought, essentially dooming the weekend right then and there. Because when the massage therapist instructed Justin to take one massage table and for &amp;quot;his girlfriend&amp;quot; to take the other, Justin replied like a broken record, &amp;quot;Oh no. She&amp;#039;s not my girlfriend.&amp;quot;  Really? You couldn&amp;#039;t have let that one slide? Even the massage therapist gave him a weird look. I was so perturbed by Justin insisting that I was not his girlfriend yet again that I couldn&amp;#039;t relax and enjoy myself. Even Fabian, my massage therapist, said I had a lot of tension in my back! (No, he didn&amp;#039;t, that&amp;#039;s a line from Clueless).  By the time we returned to our room, I had really worked myself up over the whole thing. Even though I didn&amp;#039;t want to ruin our romantic weekend away, I felt like I owed it to myself to say something.  &amp;quot;Hey, can I talk to you about something?&amp;quot; I asked Justin as I sat down on the edge of the bed.  &amp;quot;Oh no,&amp;quot; Justin groaned.  &amp;quot;What do you mean, &amp;#039;Oh no?&amp;#039;&amp;quot;  &amp;quot;Any time a girl says, &amp;#039;Can I talk to you about something?&amp;#039; it&amp;#039;s never good.&amp;quot;  &amp;quot;Um, not really sure what to do with that so I&amp;#039;m just going to continue.&amp;quot; I cleared my throat, irritably. I can&amp;#039;t stand when guys try to make you feel like a nag to deter you from talking about an issue that&amp;#039;s bothering you. Worse, I didn&amp;#039;t take Justin for the type of guy who would do that. &amp;quot;There have been a few times when someone refers to me as your girlfriend, and I feel like you&amp;#039;re a little too quick to correct them and point out that I&amp;#039;m not.&amp;quot;  Justin just gave me this maddening, &amp;quot;And your point is?&amp;quot; look.  &amp;quot;It kind of hurts my feelings,&amp;quot; I added.  &amp;quot;Well, I&amp;#039;m sorry it hurts your feelings,&amp;quot; Justin said. &amp;quot;I never want to hurt your feelings.&amp;quot;  &amp;quot;Thank you,&amp;quot; I said.  &amp;quot;So we&amp;#039;re good?&amp;quot; Justin glanced at his watch. &amp;quot;Can we get ready for dinner now?&amp;quot;  &amp;quot;Um, well, the thing is, it also confuses me. We&amp;#039;ve been seeing each other for three months. Aren&amp;#039;t I\u2026that? By now?&amp;quot;  &amp;quot;Josie,&amp;quot; Justin&amp;#039;s voice was even. &amp;quot;I thought we were just seeing where things are going, and enjoying what we have now.&amp;quot;  My stomach sank. That was not the response I thought I would get.  &amp;quot;Oh.&amp;quot; I was so disappointed, and taken aback, that it was all I could muster.  When he saw me deflate, Justin sat down next to me and looped his arm around my shoulders. &amp;quot;Please don&amp;#039;t be sad. I do see that for us. I&amp;#039;m just not there yet.&amp;quot;  I looked at my hands. &amp;quot;I mean, I&amp;#039;ve met your whole family, we&amp;#039;re on this trip, we spend almost every night together\u2026what more do you need to &amp;#039;get there?&amp;#039;&amp;quot;  &amp;quot;I will get there. I promise.&amp;quot; He gave my shoulder a squeeze. &amp;quot;Can we please enjoy tonight? I planned a really great evening, if I do say so myself.&amp;quot;  All I wanted to do was to call Nina and recount this entire conversation word by word, and ask her if she thought I was being unreasonable for feeling as disappointed as I did. But since that wasn&amp;#039;t an option, I dug deep, smiled and nodded yes.  The rest of the evening was amazing\u2014a romantic dinner with good wine, candlelight, and a gooey dessert that we joke-fed each other. But I couldn&amp;#039;t entirely shake my disappointment, and I couldn&amp;#039;t stop wondering what the hell I was doing giving so much of myself to someone who still couldn&amp;#039;t bring himself to call me his girlfriend. "^^<http://www.w3.org/2001/XMLSchema#string>
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