Archive for June 2010
Tidbits: Leone
The way my blogging goes now, I think of one little thing to write about and put that away in the back of my mind as not worth mentioning on my own. A day later another little thing comes whizzing through my thoughts and I squirrel that one away with the first. Within a week or so, I have a little bundle of random jumbled thoughts that don’t bear much weight on their own but together make a post. Of course, by the time I’m actually sitting down to write the post I very well may have forgotten a few of the thoughts, and more’s the pity. Anyway, my mind is currently occupied with thoughts which involve Leone—which is unsurprising, considering his company is the only real social outlet I have right now. It’s sad but, well, it’ll only be for two more weeks. I’m in a write-y mood tonight, and I have a lot to say.
Hormones—And Complications
Note: I originally wrote this as part of a massive bulk post about All-Things-Leone, which I started last weekend and have been adding to all week. That post isn’t done yet, but this part of it is, and then I decided—it’s so different from everything else in there: a longer topic, for one thing, and it has less of an off-handed character, for another—that I decided to separate it out and give it its own post.
Let us now talk about sex. Leone and his of-age friends went to a local pub for a weekly special last week, and I knew that when he came over that night (he’s been spending most of them here) that if he was drunk, he would bring up sex. He was only buzzed, and not even noticeably; still, I was right.
It’s been on both of our minds recently, and I know he’s been wondering (but not wanting to ask) when we’re going to go all the way. We’ve done just about everything but the act, and not that that’s not enjoyable (because it very much is), but the hormonal adolescents that we are, we’re going to think about doing more. At 21-in-a-month I’m still a virgin, but not because I’m saving myself for marriage. I understand why people would, and sometimes I wish I had the resolve and self-discipline to, but when I think about potentially losing all those years of sex I could be having because I’m patiently waiting for that one day, I just don’t think I can do it. I’m not waiting for marriage, and I’m not even waiting for the Right Guy. I’m just still a virgin because I’m waiting for someone who isn’t a random guy I brought home from a party, a one night stand. A fling might do, depending on the guy. A boyfriend, so long as it’s one I genuinely like and respect, would do very well.
Sinking Ships
Last weekend JT texted to tell me he had broken up with Jack Dawson, his boyfriend of just over a year. I was walking home with Leone at the time, so I didn’t look at the message until about an hour later, but when I saw what he had written I immediately called him, and I stayed on the phone with him for an hour. The breakup surprised me a little bit, not because it hadn’t been a long time coming, and certainly not because I thought he should’ve stayed with Jack. It surprised me because JT hadn’t mentioned wanting to do it, although that itself shouldn’t have been unexpected, because the fact that he couldn’t tell me is a huge part of the reason he ended it.
This Idle Solitude
On this rare lonesome night, I am struck by just how meaningless my day-to-day existence really is. I’m normally not the type of person to get all existential nor to bemoan the pointlessness of my life, but the wretched combination of solitude and idleness makes different things out of people. Or brings things out of them.
On a weekday, I wake up sometime between 8:30 and 9—usually erring on the late side—to the chatter and the banging and the sawing and the clatter and the ruckus of the Mexican construction workers working on the building just outside my window. Usually, I wake up in a space two-feet wide but comfortable nonetheless, with Leone breathing deeply in slumber beside me. Sometimes, I wake up alone, the tiny bed to myself. I shower, get ready for my first class, and without fail, even though every time I plan to read at a cafe during my two hour break, I head back home instead. After class is over for the day, I generally make my way to The Starbucks where I sit for about two hours, catching up on reading. Usually, I get a call from Leone when I am there; otherwise, the call comes after I get home. Every day, without fail. He comes over, and we share space here in my cozy aparment which never seems so large and empty when he’s here.
It’s peaceful, and it’s fine—but purpose does it really serve beside being a filler? I understand I really have nothing to complain about at all, because life is good and I dont have to worry about money and I have a boyfriend and a home and am earning units in class…but recently I’ve been worrying more and more about what I’m going to do after I graduate next spring. And what I’m doing right now really isn’t helping.
Today, like most weekend days, Leone had family obligations during the day, but when he dropped me off in front of my aparment in the morning he kissed me goodbye and said, “I’ll see you later, okay?” I went inside, and I went back to sleep (We’d gotten up at 8:30 because his cousin came by). Two hours later I woke up and enjoyed some alone time. I wanted to go to The Starbucks, but I kept putting it off from laziness, until it was too dark and scary outside to go. I watched episodes ot South Park on TV. I did logic puzzles out of the book I bought last weekend in SF with Leone. I heated up some pizza rolls and canned soup.
By six, it was no longer fun being on my own, and I was starting to feel lonely. Still, I figured Leone would call me when he wasn’t busy anymore, and like always, I try to avoid being the clingy girlfriend so much that I overcompensate and become the apathetic girlfriend. And so I waited.
It’s not quite the same as waiting on a call or text from Leone back before we started going out, even though it’s the same basic mechanic. Then, every minute that went by I was scared his lack of contact meant he didn’t like me anymore, even though every inch of evidence and every ounce of gut said he did. Now, I would be the most insecure of girls to doubt his feelings for me. Still, it’s hard hearing the toll of the clock every hour before I hear his ringtone playing, perking up at the sound of every motorcycle going by on the off chance that he would show up at the door before calling first. (Yes, I can now recognize the sound of his motorcycle, as distinct from all the others that drive by)
And it’s moments like these when I realise just how much my daily life depends on his presence right now. It’s something I forgot to mention in the last post, that if it weren’t for him, I would be so incredibly lonely, with no roommate and all of my friends no longer in the area. Last summer I had Rosemary’s presence to ground me although I didn’t realise how much it mattered because I was never without it (which is also a bad thing). This year, I have Leone. It makes me feel helpless and vulnerable, like I need someone to be happy, but I suppose it’s human nature to need contact. And, well, it just makes me that much thankful for him.
Northside
It’s been so long since I last posted anything that I had to go back and read my last posts just to get an idea of where I’d left off. I suppose I’ve settled into a once-a-week posting routine for now, which I guess I shouldn’t complain about.
