Him - A Love Letter

I want to wake up cuddled against him, feeling his warm breath on the back of my neck. I want to wriggle around until I face him, afraid that my breath is offensive, but not be allowed to free myself until he has thoroughly kissed me awake. I want to wake up to coffee and homemade blueberry muffins out on the deck, laughing and talking with him and my family and friends.

I want to run down to the beach and swim and surf. I want to lie in the hot sand next to him, his hand on my belly as we doze in the sunshine. I want to take the trolly into town for lunch, holding hands with him as we walk down the street. I want to go into the tourist shops and buy silly tee shirts and puka shell necklaces. I want to walk back home along the shore, stopping at the gay section of the beach where we can kiss and play with no fear of recrimination.

I want sit on the deck as the sun sets behind us, writing in my blog while he and mum prepare dinner. I want to hear them talking, realising that they are learning to love and respect each other. I want to see our neighbours crowding around our dinner table knowing that they accept my relationship with him. I want to get a little bit drunk on good red wine and play footsies with him under the table.

I want to cuddle on the couch with him watching an old movie on television as the rain patters on the deck outside. I want him to feed me chocolate and marshmallows and suck on his fingers as he places each morsel in my mouth

I want to go up to my room and climb into bed with him. I want to put my head on his shoulder and talk about the day until our desire overtakes us then I want him to tilt my face up to his and kiss me. I want to make love to him, passionate, yet giggling, because we have to be discreet in such a full house. I want to cuddle up to him, spent and happy from our day together. I want to fall asleep in his arms, safe from all of the harm that is in the world.

I want him to come back. I don’t want this summer to end.

Without Marco

I find myself searching for sad songs. Songs that speak of longing and despair which, of course, is utter nonsense. We will only be separated for a week or so, we’ve been apart that long before. This time, though, it is different. This summer has evoked a passion between us that did not previously exist. It has also brought a time of family and friends, and a sense of closeness that I thought I could never experience.

When I went to California to visit my Auntie for two weeks in June, we had been together for five months. I was sure I was falling in love but it was so new to me. Still, I missed him terribly. In July, when we had been together for six months, our relationship progressed to a level of intimacy that most do not experience in their lifetime. I knew then that I was in love and I felt a freedom and a joy that was exhilarating and earth-shaking.

I also felt a disdain from my mother that I knew was there but was heretofore, hidden. She did not want to believe that I was gay, even though she knew it in her heart long before I did. Over the last couple of months, she has spent time with Marco and has learned to appreciate his kindness and generosity. She sees how much he loves me and realises that, with his guiding hand I am becoming the man I was meant to be.

Living together this summer has taught me to be less selfish and to be more forgiving. I have learned to love and be loved. I have learned to accept help and to be proud of my accomplishments.

Marc had to return to his job, but I was in too much pain to go with him. He left this morning and I feel so alone. Of course, it has been a rather gloomy day, sent to me to match my mood. He left three notes for me, one which I will open tonight, the other two when I am again feeling blue. He also left a little package but told me I am not to open it until Monday.

I also tucked a note into his suitcase reminding him of how much I love him and how much he means to me. He found it when he unpacked, but he said he hasn’t opened it yet. He is saving it until Monday, when he won’t have to go to work and will have time to dwell on how much he misses me. I am jealous that my friends have already eaten at the restaurant. They said he was quiet and just a bit sad. The restaurant was busy they said, and Marc had mentioned that he was glad that he didn’t have time to be too gloomy.

I will be flying back next week. I don’t think I could take a long drive just yet. School starts just after Labor Day and I need to get ready. School also means that I will be spending some nights in the dorm. Well, it means that I should be spending nights in the dorm. I don’t think I will, though, unless the pressures of exams and papers preclude being with him.

This will be an interesting week. I will spend time contemplating the great love of my life and my luck in finding him before I could screw up. I can’t surf or swim because of the broken ribs, but I can sit and type. I guess the blog will progress as well as the novel. Unfortunately, I will only be writing the depressing scenes.

Broken Ribs

Poor Marco, he spent the entire day fretting on the beach while Caitlin and I surfed. He was so scared that something might happen to one of us. He saw the board hit me and knock me into the water.

He tried to get to me but I was too far out. Marc can’t swim and it was almost a double catastrophe because he got hit by a wave. Thankfully, he was pushed toward the shore and was able to regain his footing before the next big wave hit. I was tumbled around before I could get my bearings. I think that was when I cut my nose. At first, I felt fine and I kept on surfing. As the tide receded, the waves were not as well formed, and it became difficult to get a good ride so Cait and I headed in.

I hurt like hell and my ribs were turning lovely colours – red, purple, blue, and yellow – I became the rainbow flag. Talk about showing off my sexual identity! We went out to dinner and, by the time we were through, I was having trouble breathing. A quick call to da and mum had me in the car on the way to the hospital.

My da was already gone when I got back from surfing. I wish he had been there. He could have been with me in the hospital and probably gotten me through faster. They gave me an MRI and said I had broken ribs but no internal damage. The cut on my nose was superficial and did not need stitches.

So, here I sit, the waves are not as dramatic as they were yesterday, but still very surfable. But not by me. Cait took the day off and we sat on the deck and talked. I was supposed to drive back to the city but there is no way I could take a long car ride, even if Marc drove. And there is no way my poor tranny could take it if Marc drove…

Marc called his grandfather and it looks like we are both staying on for a few more days. YAY. If I’m not better in a few days, Marc will fly back without me. If I can’t drive by Labor Day, I will fly back to the city in time for school.

Would I have given up the surfing knowing that the little kid was going to aim his board at me and smack right into my ribs? No. It was one of the best days of surfing this summer.

I have a secret love.

I guess it’s just a crush, really. A schoolboy infatuation. But I think about him a lot, and I (know) hope he thinks about me. I don’t know how to contact him, but I think he reads my blog, so every day I look to see if he’s left me a message.

Did he email me today? Perhaps he sent me a tweet. Nothing.

I know it won’t amount to anything, but a boy can dream.

‘Out’ at the barbeque

This evening we went to a barbeque at our neighbours’ house. The daughter has always had a crush on me but, up until last summer, I had a girlfriend. She’s a couple of years younger than me but I always knew that if I was straight, she would be my type. She reminds me of Hayley Mills in the original Parent Trap – kind of boyish and cute.

I had fallen asleep so Mum, Cait, Aidan, and Michael went on without us. We showed up 15 minutes later and everything seemed ok, except there was whispering here and there. People were just beginning to realize that Aidan and Michael were a couple. Then in we walk – holding hands! The daughter’s jaw dropped open, the mother’s eyes popped out of her head, and the general conversation came to a screeching halt.

The mother tried to choke back her surprise. After a few stuttering attempts at speech, she was able to welcome us. Mum just sat there with a tight-lipped smile pasted onto her face.

Mum and Marco thought I was asleep.

“Does anyone want some lunch? I can make something and let you know when it’s ready.” Mum said to us. Michael and Aidan were both hungry, and Cait was still in the water. I had been asleep on the blanket but was beginning to regain consciousness.

“Kiki? Are you hungry? Marco said. I ignored him, not having found my voice yet after my long snooze. “He’s still asleep. He didn’t sleep well last night. He was up and on the computer at 4:30.” Marc said to mum.

“You call him Kiki? He lets you get away with it?” Mum said.

“Yeah, but he said he’d punch anyone else who called him that. I usually don’t call him that in public. Don’t let him know.”

“I think it’s cute. Do you mind if I sit down and talk with you for a minute?”

“Sit. What’s up?”

“Marco, when I first met you a couple of weeks ago, I was pretty cold to you. I want you to know that it wasn’t you that I was upset with. It has been hard for me to accept that Ciar is gay, although I think I knew it before he did.”

“That’s ok; it must be hard to accept that your only son is not going to have the life you want for him.”

“No, it’s not ok. You didn’t deserve to be treated that way. I want you to know that I’m glad that Ciar met you. I’ve seen the way you look at him and I can tell you really care.”

“I love him more than I ever thought I could love anyone. It scares me because he’s so young, but I’m willing to take a chance.”

“Please look out for him, he’s always been too naïve and trusting. He’s lucky to have found you.”

“No, I’m the lucky one.”