this one

This morning I woke to a ceiling fan with five blades, whirling industriously around a gold chrome stem. The spot on the ceiling where the fan attaches has a circle of paint around it that is significantly darker than that of the rest of the ceiling. It makes a pleasantly continuous sound of rushing air, the sort of white noise that can lull me to sleep in the space of several heartbeats, at least once I can get far enough from the person lying beside me to reach a normal body temperature. He radiates heat like a nuclear reactor and no matter how cold the night I can feel the beads of perspiration forming on the surface of my skin whenever I'm in close proximity to his body. Of course, not all of it is the tangible heat, there is also still my body's response to him. After all this time the chemistry is still intensely compelling.
His bed is comfortable, though I suspect it of having begun to sag in the middle from being occupied primarily with a solitary individual. It's hard to tell as he has a habit of camping in the center of it even when he has company, I cannot help but roll toward him. It takes a bit of shifting to develop enough counter balance to make myself comfortable next to him. I sleep on my right shoulder too often, with my face turned outward toward the edge of the bed. As I get older that arm is almost perpetually a little sore. I try to lie on my back, but when my left elbow rests beside me, my forearm crooked across my torso the arm tends to fall asleep. So I shift a lot and feel badly for rousing him from his peaceful sleep because he usually does have his bed to himself.
I love it there, in that quiet neighborhood. He has a balcony outside his second floor bedroom, and I can see its outline through the beige linen curtains. His closet doors are almost always open so I can see his rainbow colored collection of quirky and vintage t shirts and the ironing board he seldom uses with its floral print cover and the iron hanging above it on the rack. He recently hung a picture of a dory on the south China sea on the wall opposite his bed, and it too is soothing.
He loves the water. He spent part of his childhood growing up on a boat and the lifestyle, while not perfect contextually, was one that seems to have stuck with him and continues to have appeal. He tells me if he had a boat he would probably leave and not come back. I could see him being happily and resourcefully itinerant but I am glad he is here and does not seem unhappy.
Tonight I will see him again. I don't know if I will get to his house before he does, if I'll need my rainbow colored key copy to get in. Maybe I will be curled up on his couch watching Caprica and munching on animal cookies, or perhaps he'll get there before me and be playing Modern Warfare. We'll probably watch something for a while, obscure or mainstream anime, something offbeat, and then one or the other of us will get sleepy. He sometimes reads in bed while waiting on me, or sometimes I go up first while he plays games until he's tired.
It is pleasant, and ordinary, and unique. It is a thing I always want and never take wholly for granted because it isn't mine and I value it. I think he's used to me now. There is more he wants and it isn't something I have, but I think he feels no sense of urgency about finding what it is he may be after. So there is me for now, and I am content for the most part.

Grand Scheme of Things

It's the end of another nice week with Jake. The man comes back tonight. I have mixed feelings. I've enjoyed my week but I've had small twinges of missing home here and there. I feel like I've been rushed a lot of the time, and substituting a less appealing activity for a more appealing one sometimes to appease Jake. The trade off persists in being worth it to me because of the value I continue to place on that relationship, but I can feel the compromise and wonder how it will develop. Maybe it never will, I mean, after all, it's been a while. My feelings haven't changed too very much. I am calmer and a little more able to take Jake for granted. Conversely, he also seems to take me for granted, something that continues to bother me a little. Perhaps I feel like he's always had that attitude toward me and I feel inferior to him in some way, or threatened. Even though I have spent all week with him and we've had a great time doing very little, rather than spend this evening with me he plans to go out with his coworkers, knowing that T is coming back tonight and it will be my last free evening for a while. I want him to want me more and I can never have that like J could. Bah, and I know that wouldn't have lasted and he would have seen through her and either been wounded, cynical or both. I just wish I could have ever generated that level of intensity from him the way he does from me. But in the end, what I do have is enough. He is incredibly rewarding to spend time with, and very thoughtful and courteous of me. This is a way I still like to spend my time and feel it is worthwhile. I've enjoyed cooking for him and making plans with him all week. I've loved sleeping in his bed and waking up next to him. He is gorgeous to look at, generous with his charms and resources, I would not trade him in for a night of raiding in WoW for certain, or even for another human. I am attached to this one. I just wish I didn't feel so at a disadvantage with him, like he really is out of my league.
We've been playing BioShock all week, and the other night we watched Tron. I wasn't feeling terribly ambitious as I had a murderous head cold sent from the bowels of purgatory to torment me. Jake was really accommodating about it, well, except when he wanted to make out with me and the idea of being horizontal was still anathema to me. I think my reluctance offends him deeply and personally so I usually try to mitigate my reaction and go along with him. I admit, it's worth it and I have never failed to enjoy myself but it's hard feeling so regularly subsumed by someone else.
So, T comes home today and I will go back to my more normal life. I have a Dr. appointment this afternoon to get the surgeon to look at my hips. I don't think he made my abdominoplasty incision quite long enough so the skin gathers a bit and looks asymmetrical. I'm trying to decide how combatitive to be about the issue because I'd prefer to not get stuck footing the bill for fixing something i consider his error, that's assuming he will be able to fix it, Gods above please let him be able to fix it. I'm so tired of feeling self conscious. I avoid being naked with an audience anymore because of this and I know it hurts me.
Monday I have another interview for a job I really thing I might actually like to have, at the airport. I like airports and it's a shorter commute from my home than this place. I like the hours and the pay sounds good. I am hopeful and delighted that they even called me back considering they had over 600 applications come in for the position. If I get it I may not be able to travel with T in May but he sounds like he may be reconciled to that.
Friday I have an appointment with a dermatologist and I need to remember to print out a body map like the NP I talked to recommended. I also need to remember to call my ObGyn to find out when my appointment last spring was so I can hunt down a replacement for her and schedule with her. And what I really need to do is tear myself away from this and go do the writing I keep telling myself I want to be doing despite my fear that I'll never get any kind of closure out of the damned story. The effort does not hurt me, I can do this.