I love my boy
They've never met, but Mike got excited and the plans were made.
Then yesterday around lunch my dad called and in a real shady (however typical) voice he told me the business was extended and dinner was off and he's sorry but maybe next time and he looks forward to Thanksgiving.
When Mike said he was dissapointed I gave him the, "You just had your first date broken by my dad. Welcome to the feeling, it will happen a lot." Maybe it's just shit luck, but it's the story of my childhood, dissapointment out the ass.
But to my surprise, Dad called me at 6:00 (their time) to say he tried leaving Mike a message, but if I talked to him then tell him the reservations are still on and they had a break in their business and were "making a run for the restaurant."
I called my honey as he "tried to find something to wear." I think he settled on linen pants. Linen? I've only *ever* seen him in denim.
Or scrubs. His butt is so preciously cute in scrubs. mmmmmm
So Dad calls after dinner last night, while I sat at Amelia's eating my favorite local pizza and watching Pecker. He gave me his perfect, "he's just a wonderful young man! What's there not to like? He's a real fine, good looking boy too. Reminds of us Leonardo DiCaprio."
He doens't look like DiCaprio. But he's also been compared to Jude Law (from people I know). And David Bekham.
I like the fact that he's only ever been compared to coverboys for GQ.
When I talked to my babe latter in the evening he was drunk. Thanks to my father's treat. I don't mind, though, that he ran up Daddy's tab with Guinness and Bass.
I mind my Dad, though. I adore him. And I despise him. And so shall it ever be.
So now Mike knows all my six parents.
It's only 25 days until I see him again. It's been 30.
You know, as a kid I always imagined having a courtship, and that's sort of what I have. Just a very romantic, conversational, imaginative relationship where we mail each other letters and packages and send loving messages. It's non-sexual by circumstance.
Actually, the non-physical (which is probably more accurate than "non-sexual") aspect is probably why we've grown so much closer week by week. Sometimes physical life with a person just creates a stagnation.
After they've moved a toothbrush in, there seems to be less urgency for conversations.
So we've got four years of daily conversations that need to be soul-satisfying. That need to be enough to assure us that we're tight. With intervals of dizzying physical encounters.
Another thing this long-distance-ness will do is prolong the freshness of being together. Like, when I see him next month, even though we'll have been together for five months, simple kisses will make me weak in the knees.
And I reckon at Christmas kisses will still seem like a thrill.
And thus shall I continue to comfort myself in his absence.
