in which I'm told I'm the sort of gal who could pull a knife on a guy

D. and I were friends at first. We went to the movies, out to eat, ran errands, and the like. I told him he should ask me on a date. I didn't hear from him for a few days, and when he finally called me, he explained that he would love to ask me out, that he thought I was amazing and just the kind of woman he needed in his life.

But.

He needed to find an orthodox Jewish woman to raise orthodox children in an orthodox household.

I told him fine, I understand, but I hope we can still be friends. So we continued to hang out, and I contacted all sorts of experts on interfaith relationships, read all sorts of blogs, and came to the conclusion that he was right. For some couples, it works. But he's orthodox, I'm actively involved in my church and very much a Catholic, and both of our families are very strong believers as well. Neither of us would be willing to compromise.

Then one evening, with the confidence that only comes from downing a bottle of red wine, he kissed me. Everything changed. Those movie dates involved hand holding, the dinners and lunches came with playing footsie, and innocent movie and TV nights became much more.

He's a lawyer who worked long hours, and I'm way to independent to be bothered with a guy who has too much time for me; I appreciated knowing he was thinking about me, and when we were together, things were good.

To a point.

I had this lingering feeling that we were tricking ourselves. There could be no future, so what were we doing?

I started seeing someone else; he was attractive, successful and Catholic. We decided to not see other people, so I called D. to break the news to him. He said he was happy for me and asked if we could still be friends. I said of course.

The new guy didn't last longer than a couple of months. I'm not sure why.

Last night D. called me from the grocery store, asking if I needed anything. I needed cinnamon sticks, and he said he'd bring them over. He arrived with a bottle of wine in hand, and like we did at the very beginning of our friendship, we drank a couple of glasses while watching our favorite shows.

Halfway through 30 Rock, he decided my feet must be cold and covered them with a blanket. He asked if he could give me a foot massage, and I asked him point blank what he was doing.

"I miss you."

"You can't miss me. That's not allowed. That's not the rules."

"I think about you every day. All the time."

"We've been down this road before. You know how this ends. We don't have any future. Catholic, Jewish. Neither willing to compromise."

"But you're perfect for me."

"No, I'm not. You said you need to find a Jewish woman."

"But-"

"Don't say it."

"You're the sort of girl who could pull a knife on a guy."

And then we finished the episode.