Something very strange has happened.
Well, not all of them, but all of the witty, insightful, irreverent ones. I’m going to blame it on Christmas. I was going to blame it on global warming, but we've had such lovely weather lately, I don’t want to jinx it. It’s easy to blame the Holidays for all types of bad things, like depression, anger, despair and loneliness. That’s why people love the holidays. Because they can act like a total ass and then sweep it under the carpet by saying “Meh, it’s Christmas”.
But, I really do love Christmas.
I just wish it didn’t steal my stories.
The good news is that even if I don’t have the words, I have been doodling in Microsoft Paint so I can illustrate a typical day in my life with Paul. You might call it the "Gay agenda". It’s not so very different than any other couple. At night, we go to bed just like you. Except that Paul likes the room to be exceptionally cold. In the middle of winter, he opens all of the bedroom windows.
Did I mention that we live in Boston? But I don’t mind terribly, because this is the type of compromise that couples make. They do it because they love each other and I show my love by shivering through the night, under fifteen blankets, so that Paul’s restless legs will finally rest. After his nervous legs have slept, they are ready to leap out of bed even before the sun has risen.The sun could be halfway through its daily journey before my body wants to rise and shine.
There are some people who can immediately open their eyes, greet the day and start singing. I am not one of those people. But Paul is. Because I find it so very difficult to get out of bed in the morning Paul will snuggle me for five minutes and then all bets are off, as are all of my fifteen blankets. The world is a dark and cruel place when you are suddenly laid bare on top of your mattress in a sub-freezing bedroom.
But Paul is good for me. He makes me get out of bed and go to the gym; even when I don’t want to go. After the gym I put my pants on one leg at a time and then pretend that I am going to take the bus to work. But every day, Paul will say “But you’re too little to take the bus! Show me how sad you’d be if you had to take the bus.” And then I make a little sad face.
So we get into the car and begin the drive to my office. Paul loves to drive, so I don’t feel very guilty. He will joke with me and say “Even though I work from home, I’m so glad that we moved into the city so that I could have a commute.” But I really don’t pay attention to what he is saying because the truth be told, he says a lot in the morning while my brain is still trying to figure out if I am still sleeping.
When we get to my office, I give Paul a kiss and tell him I love him. Sometimes he will honk the horn and whistle at me. The rest of the day is probably very much the same as your day. Except that somehow my day with Paul might lead to the collapse of civilization as we know it.
Oh, you don’t think that makes sense?
I don’t either.
But at some point during the drive my brain decides to wake up. It usually coincides with a song on the radio that makes me happy.
And then at some point during the drive my heart wakes up. This usually coincides with Paul’s desire to shave thirty seconds off of yesterday’s commute time.
I don’t either.