Chibimagic's Weblog

Archive for August 2011

Three days away from becoming mayor of his apartment complex, I break up with D. The next night I am crowned mayor at M’s apartment. It’s my third time there. His place is filled with items of meticulous design. Everything is sleek lines, black and white. In his bathroom is a Japanese toilet that squirts water and makes flushing sounds. Clean gray line art on his cupboards neatly delineate: cups; dishes; pots. His trash can purrs softly as it closes. If Annie were here, she could ride his Roomba like those internet videos. The remaining empty space is an exercise in restraint, not laziness in picking out furniture.

His bedroom is a vague mix of San Francisco and Oriental, with sheets that he has picked out himself. For him of course it would be unacceptable otherwise. Thirty is incomprehensibly old. A lifetime of milestones past twenty-two — twenty-three, now. He has had half a lifetime to perfect these little touches; three times longer.

That’s why, unprompted, he puts an arm around me. It’s a gesture that is at once completely natural and absolutely free from anxiety and neuroticism. He kisses me. I note that this is the first time in three months that I have been kissed outside of bed. I snuggle against his body, soft and warm. We, too, are watching TV on his couch. But we are watching with no prologue of awkward negotiation or compromise. On his couch that is much larger than it needs to be to hold him, holding me.

Two days later we meet up somewhere. He hugs and kisses me hello. I’d forgotten that people do this sort of thing. It took me much too long to figure out how desperately I crave touch, and to realize how I’d been living a string of little deaths. I am euphoric, though it probably doesn’t show. He leaves my skin prickly and electric: I can almost hear it hum.

He is a checklist of everything I was looking for 10 years ago, and I don’t know what that means.

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