April 10, 2008

• What next?

  Kanga and I spent a long weekend up in northern Europe, where I discovered my love for multigrain porridge, and she discovered... poop in a trash can. Yeah, I think we might be past the age where staying in hostels really fits into our expectations, which definitely include not finding poop in the bathroom trash can.

  Then I met up with Apple in Luxembourg, where he goes every week for work. I had written him a ridiculously sappy letter - since when did I become a romantic? I almost chickened out and took it away from him, but he read it and didn't laugh, and in fact really loved it, studied it, and talked about it with me (while I had my head hidden under a pillow out of sheer embarrassment), and so that was a relief. I read, did my taxes, watched movies, and just puttered around during the day. It was nice to have a break with nothing big to do, and no sights to see.

  We realized that it had been two months since we first got together - it's one of those situations where you're not sure if it feels like it has been shorter or longer, and maybe it's both, in a good way. We went out to dinner on Tuesday as a quasi-celebration, and also just because we like going to nice restaurants together. It was at that dinner that Apple brought up, ever so casually, the issue of What Are We Going To Do Once I Move. I had thought about bringing it up in Bonaire, but he beat me to it, but maybe that shouldn't surprise me - he has always been very open about his thoughts and feelings, and seems even more unguarded after having read my letter. We had talked about it a little bit before, but only tangentially and in passing, without a firm conclusion - once when Apple (mostly jokingly, I believe) said I should stay here and live with him, and his salary could stretch for both of us (I say jokingly because he is one of those people who doesn't believe in living together unless it's a Forever kind of situation); once last week when we were talking about how we would keep in touch once I'm gone (actually, it started off as an "are we going to keep in touch" conversation initiated by me, since Apple isn't friends with as many of his exes as I am with mine, and evolved into a "would Skype be practical" conversation). And it popped up here and there, but only in passing.

  So Apple raised the issue head-on at dinner, asking if we were going to continue dating once I'm gone, which I thought was an interesting choice of phrasing, actually, because from the beginning, we always said that we would date until I left, so I would have thought that the default question in such a case would be, "Are we still going to end things when you leave?" Of course, I'm a lawyer, so I probably deconstruct phrasing more than most speakers intend. I asked him if that was what he wanted, to keep dating, and we both commented on the ridiculous impracticality of it, but also said that we couldn't imagine just... stopping. Then we talked about frequency of visits, the possibility that I might sometimes be able to work from the local office of my company, and so on. So at least for now, it looks like we're going to give it a shot and try to find a way, but a nine hour time difference with no concrete prospect of living in the same city (or on the same continent, for that matter) makes things look a bit grim.

  We let the topic drop and talked about our usual mish-mash of serious and silly things (at dinner the night before, for instance, the tables had brown paper and crayons, so in between talking about work and friends and plans, we took turns making each other's random scribbles into little drawings of whales, "racing elephants," monocled men, and other nonsense.

  As we were falling asleep later on, Apple mumbled, "I am going to miss you so much when you're gone, what are we going to do?" The very thing that has been plaguing me. "We'll find a way." Seemingly satisfied with my response, he fell asleep. I wish my doubts were so easy to soothe...

  ***

  One very strange thing that happened while we were in Luxembourg requires some background information. After a rather unfortunate incident about ten years ago, I have never been able to stand having the left side of my neck touched, especially close to the collarbone. If I am very distracted or very calm, I can just barely stand it, but otherwise, it bothers me like the dickens. Similarly, I hate having my legs underneath someone else's legs, it just makes me feel trapped, like a cornered animal. Over time, I have been slowly, ever so slowly, training myself out of it, but it has been a long process with little progress. The untouchable area has decreased in size, and the frequency of those short times when it can be touched has gone up, but 95% of the time, it has remained untouchable.

  Tuesday night, Apple and I were lying in bed after, er, well, afterwards, and he touched my neck in an exploratory manner - he knows I can't stand it, but he also knows I'm trying to get over it, so he occasionally checks to see if it's OK. And... nothing. It wasn't a matter of me tolerating his touch as long as possible, which is usually the case when it comes to the left side of my neck. It simply didn't bother me. It felt as if he were touching any other part of me - a hand, a foot, an arm. Inconceivable. This went on for five minutes, and I lay there, stunned, because it has been ten years since my neck could be touched like that without me being distracted or concentrating on trying to be OK with it. And the next morning, the same thing. And this morning, I didn't even mind having my legs pinned under his as we lay in bed talking before he got up to go to work.

  I thought that I might eventually get over my difficulty with having my neck touched or my legs pinned, but I thought it was going to be a long, gradual process. I don't know if this is just a temporary reprieve, but for now, it just feels like... magic.

  ***

  I often have nightmares, and they usually involve me being hunted, chased, and killed, often along with friends, family, or other people who are depending on me for some unknown reason. I've gotten used to them, and can tell you which ways I would prefer not to die - being disemboweled, for example, really sucks. Anyways, I had a series of nightmares last night, the usual gory chases, but the last one actually disturbed me. I was with a group of maybe 20 people, we were the good guys, and we were being pursued by a larger, stronger group of people. Their leader finally caught up to us as we were preparing to defend ourselves, and it turns out that it was Apple. I was so hurt and felt so betrayed that he of all people would be hunting us and trying to kill us, but it seemed that he was just doing what had to be done. He said that he would give us two days to prepare, and that he and his marauders would come back then to destroy us.

  I told Apple about that one, and he was horrified, and asked what it could mean - was it a meaningless mash-up of the day, was it a premonition of something to come? After a moment of thought, I said that I thought it was probably my subconscious expressing fear that he was going to hurt me, maybe not now, but some time in the near future, and that I had best prepare myself for it as much as possible. He was still horrified, and said he had no reason to hurt me and would never do so intentionally. I reminded him that our situation isn't really ideal for everyone coming out with no hurt feelings.

  ***

  It's so funny that things have turned out this way. I really thought that Apple and I would have a fun fling - he is an incorrigible flirt with this larger than life public persona, and seemed to be someone I could never fall in love with. He thought I was a cold, unattainable lawyer type. And now look at the mess we're in.

  • 11:39 am
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