Today

Two things tonight: trash and holes.

First:

Today, I got to experience a delightful little bit of small town life. No one put out the trash this morning, so, once I was up and finished with tutoring, I handled it myself. There were still trash bins all down the street, and, when I had been doing the running for my workout, I discovered that some really reeked… suggesting that they still had trash in them. In fact, it smelled outside period, because of trash. So, I cleaned out the trash cans throughout the house, added their trash to the kitchen bag, and stuck it in the trash bin. I hugged the bin out to the curb, and headed back inside, out a clean kitchen bag and cleaned the trash can lid, and then washed my hands.

Suddenly, the doorbell rang. After a pause of contemplating the possibilities and likelihoods, I went and opened the door. An older, grayed and balding yet able-bodied man stood on the doorstep. “I hate to have to say it, but the trash man’s already come today.”

His southeast Texas small town accent only increased the endearment of the whole act. Only in small towns, communities that care openly about one another, does this happen. The other week, my mom said that the fat layer on my arms was due to my having been in the boonies for so long – it was just part of living out here. I laughed really hard at the joke, and told her later how grateful I was again and again at her having given me that silly way to look at the unpleasant situation of having gotten fat where I didn’t want it. That was, nonetheless, one of the drawbacks of small town life. This week, I got to have a positive of small town life, and enjoy the super sweet neighborly kindness that this guy gave freely to me. Just lovely. 🙂

Second:

I talked with my old high school boyfriend this afternoon. We have remained friends these past many years, despite the oh-so-different paths our lives have followed. We don’t talk often, but, when we do, we have to be cut off by some activity of some sort, or else we talk for hours. And we do it with ease. We weren’t just a dating couple in high school. We were really good friends for years first.

Talking today, I noticed how there is a piece of me – un trou – that is filled only by him. It sits just behind my ribs, from the center to the right a few inches or so, and it has a bit of depth to it, though not uniform. I could feel it so incredibly clearly today, I am surprised that I hadn’t fully identified its existence before. It had just been one of those subconscious knowings, I suppose, until today. But now I see and feel how that one spot is filled only by J——–, and it makes my heart, somehow, feel more full. By the knowledge of his absence, he somehow goes everywhere with me, whether I realize or pay attention to it or not. It was a kind of fun realization to have.

While we spoke, I could feel an intangible heat stretching inside my ribs, expanding to fill, at least in part, his space within my being.

Whenever I see him next, I can definitely see myself hugging and hanging tightly around his neck for quite a while – he is so important to me. But it is truly out of love through friendship, not romantic love. Frankly, we are so not interested in one another on a day-to-day or dating level – that’s a hard pass for the both of us. But, just because we are not romantically for one another, doesn’t mean that we cannot improve the foundation of our relationship, and stick with that: friendship.

Anyway, I’m losing focus, both visually and mentally, actually. So, I’m going to end here and do my stretches and reading so I can go to sleep now. Goodnight!!

Post-a-day 2020

Fashionably late

Tonight, after all of our own family activities and general gay atmosphere hanging out, my mom and I headed to my high school boyfriend’s family’s Christmas dessert gathering/social.

I sent him a message when we actually were getting close to leaving, but received to reply, and so I called him when we actually were leaving my brothers’ dad’s house.

The party was slowing down, but we could for sure come hang with him, if everyone else was gone, he said… and so I had him verify with his mom that it was still okay for us to come over (because we live over half an hour away), and she said to come on!

And so we went… and his dad’s dad was practically walking out the door as we arrived, the final guest at the gathering.

And yet, the whole family was there to greet us happily with hugs and cheer, and then hung out with us for what turned out to be about two and a half hours of good and real chat time.

We finally walked out the door, and we were shocked to find it was just shy of one in the morning(!).

But it had truly felt like we’d received a sort of VIP treatment for the party – when other guests are present, conversations are cut short/off regularly, and often only last a minute or three at most, and often less time with the host of a party… and yet we spent two and a half hours with direct conversation with the hosts of the party.

How often does that happen during a party?

Quite rarely for me, really… it’s always only if I arrive really early or stay to the end that I get the one-on-one time with the party host.

And yet we had full attention the entire time we were there – it was certainly like special treatment for this party!

I definitely feel like this puts a whole new level/dimension to being “fashionably late” to events. 😛

Post-a-day 2018

ABBA in life

The musical delight ABBA holds a truly special place in my heart.  For whatever reason, I have a few very strong memories connected to their music.

My Junior year of high school, while at a dance event (west coast swing, a partner dance), “Dancing Queen” comes on.  My good friend and I rush out onto the floor, as we both love the song, and it is the first time we’ve heard it played at any kind of dance event or social.  We both crack up at the line referencing the dancing queen’s being 17, as 1) he has just turned 17, 2) he is semi-secretly gay (putting him in a certain category of queens), and 3) he is dancing and is darn good at it.  Neither of us had anticipated the line to fit so perfectly until we heard it while on the dance floor.  I was overflowing with joy and delight during that dance.

Senior year of high school, I quote the lyrics of “Thank you for the Music” in a letter (possibly for a retreat) to my eventual boyfriend.  A huge portion of our friendship/relationship was filled with the beautiful music he created almost constantly, and it brought true bliss to my life in a way nothing else could.  (Not that other things can’t bring true bliss, just that that particular kind of bliss was its own kind.)

Studying abroad in Vienna in college, I come home late one night to my shared dorm room, where my roommate is already in bed, sleeping (from what I can tell, anyway).  I sit down at my desk to do a few things on my computer (probably check Facebook and e-mails and whatnot), and notice that my roommate is listening to music rather loudly (seeing as I can hear it and all).  “Oh cool,” I think, “She likes ABBA, too.”  I wonder for a bit, how on Earth she can sleep with the music playing so loudly in her ears.  When I am finally about to go to sleep, half-ish an hour or so later, I notice that the music doesn’t seem to be louder near her bed, but quieter.  I follow the sound, and discover that my iPod has been blasting the first artist on the list for that past 45-ish minutes.  It was difficult not to laugh, though I had really enjoyed listening to the music, even if it wasn’t my roommates choice after all.

So, what beautiful, strong memory will occur next with ABBA, I wonder?  🙂

 

I'm part of Post A Day 2016