November 9, 2009

it’s taking every ounce of me not to gush.
really.

instead I’ll just tell you about
Saturday
in which he made
pasta
from scratch
breaded chicken breasts
stuffed with bleu cheese
in
a Portobello and vermouth sauce
and we drank wine
and talked
and talked
and I was…
charmed.

or my Sunday
which consisted of
a perfect omelette
filled with tomatoes
onion
and leftover bleu cheese
with sour cream on top
followed by coffee down the street
hand-holding
among other things
sandwiches made of leftovers
on English muffins
video games
and movies.

I’ve never had anyone
treat me like he does.

and now
I won’t see him for a few days.
which is fine by me.

I like being alone.
I need my space.

… and I’m so used to losing
good things like this
that part of me is scared to get used to him.