Everybody Loves Me
Between Friday afternoon and Sunday afternoon, FIVE people told me they loved me. Five people who each rendered me speechless when they did it. Five people who have either not done it before, haven't done it often/long enough for me to be used to it, or who are under no obligation to do so in order to protect potential future claims for organ transplants. I am not accustomed to being loved.
But since I'm on a roll, here are some people who *I* love but upon whom I do not rely for future organ match:
The Threesome Twosome
Elizabeth (even if she won't talk to me) (for almost a year)
High School Sweetheart
my colleague's sculptor professor friend
Daniel (there is also the potential to be IN LOVE with him)
Janice et al
Little Ed (though he's also an organ transplant type)
Susan (no, the other one)
I may be falling in love with a little with SW. As a matter of fact, today he is meeting up with a former non-gay boyfriend of mine from high school. William may be the most suitable beau I've ever had, and I still adore him, and I think he's probably even better suited to me now than he was then. MGBF is particularly keen to hang with Will so that he can hear stories about old me. This makes me both impossibly nervous and thoroughly charmed
at the same time. I HATE giving up the control over the stories, but I also hate missing them--I can hardly imagine what stories Will has! However, this is also the first time (I think, can that be?!) I've been involved with someone who was so sweetly curious to understand who I used to be that he would seek out my old friends on his own. I don't know what to do!
I absolutely cannot fall in love with MGBF. This might should teach me something about why I always end up with self-involved straight men for whom solicitousness never reaches beyond perfunctory. Maybe I shouldn't be so worried--I get hurt either way.
Yesterday, I cleaned my apartment, painted the living room and dining room of my new house (first coat only), and talked to England on the phone for three hours then sobbed in my car for half an hour and drove home. I cheered myself up by drinking a bottle of wine, washing and setting my hair, and reading Harry Potter then sleeping on clean sheets. It only worked a little. Today, my horrible boss keeps mentioning how sorry he is that I didn't get to go on the trip, but how useful it is that I'm still here. How could he possibly think this would do anything but make me feel wretched?
Pleasing Manifestations of Solicitousness:
Asking what I like/think/want
Ringing me up to say "good night"
Offering his arm only when I need it (physically and/or emotionally)
Casually touching me when he refers to me in a group conversation
Putting my things in places where they cannot be broken
Describing me favorably to strangers
Following me home when I'm driving while tired/sick/sad
Taking responsibility for my chores
Thinking up ways to make my life easier/better
Remembering little tiny ephemeral comments or incidents and recounting them significantly
Refraining from discussing subjects that upset me when I don't need to address them
Seeking out my analysis/expertise for his own concerns
Making me feel safe
Noticing details about me
Requesting my time and company
Celebrating our relationship
Looking out for and reminding me of my safety and happiness