Yesterday I drove by his work place and to give him some stuff I bought for him, apples and rusks, stuff he can keep at the office. I'm sure he is not thrilled that I buy him things, but neither does he resent it. I don't fuss too much, so he lets it pass.
As usual we gave each other a hug when we met. He is quite a bit taller than I am, though some of it is the absurdly thick heeled shoes he wears. o.O I reach to his shoulder. It was a nice hug, non sexual, of course. But still, a close, squeezing hug.
We chatted some, but I kept it short, it was in the parking lot at his workplace, after all. I also keep it light, and I keep myself confident, I am sure he will feel mortified if I go all gooey. Anyway, when I left I just lifted my face for a kiss, which he gave unselfconsciously. Sigh. I would so like a passsionte kiss. He has such kissable lips. I want to taste his tongue, the inside of his mouth. A good, firm kiss, his body pressed to mine, but over so fast.
I know he is quite hairy for a guy who is a bit of a queen. He is young and twinky, but he is not a twink. He showed me his navel piercing once or twice...he is rather more hairy than DH. I am attracted to tall, slender types, like him, and like DH is, too. The though of being entwined with that slender, hairy tummy against me, arouses me.
I was reading an article this morning about the genetics of homosexuality. Women are more fluid in the sexuality than men, which was not the point of the article, but made me wish that he was a bit more adventurous sexually. But no, he is only into men.
I do love the boy. Not like I love my husband, of course. To me the ideal situation would be to have him live with us. Then I can see them both every day. I am not jealous of boyfriends he has. I am interested, and as frustrated as him when things don't work out. I am aroused by the thought of him making love to another man.
As he has gotten to know me better, he is less forthcoming about his sex life. He is slowly becoming more careful, not given to random sex anymore. He recently had an HIV test, for which he tested negative. His last risky behaviour was about 7 months ago, and since then he has walked the straight and narrow, it seems. he was very, very relieved with the results, so I guess he really took some chances.
I have been very open with him about the fact that I love him. He accepts it, just like that. Which I find a bit odd. I wonder if he perhaps don't realise that I feel quite sexual towards him. You know, i think he realises it, but he doesn't ponder on it.
He is otherwise quite openhearted towards me.
He turned 26 recently. I am waiting for him to grow up, and he dhows great promise.
Laasweek het AG op ons walrusblog gepos oor hoe goed A en R lyk na hulle albei die stof en water dieet getakel het. Net net in terme van hulle lywe nie; R het omtrent 10 kg verloor en A seker al 20 kg. Maar ook hoeveel hulle selfvertroue toegeneem het, hoe hulle straal.
Die inskrywing het my in die doldrums gedompel. Ek het daardie aand net by C seker gemaak dat ek reg is om nie so 'n streng dieet te volg nie. Hoekom nie? Eerstens, ek dink nie ek sal daarby kan hou nie. En tweedens, ek weet ek sal nie daarby kan bly nie. Die gedagte om die res van my lewe min te eet, en eintlik meer om altyd te waak oor wat ek eet, laat my skoon moedeloos voel. As die vreugde van om skraal en mooi te wees genoeg van 'n dryfveer was vir my (en honderde ander mense wat al vetter teruggebons het van crash dieete af) sou ek nie so vet geword het nie.
So, ek is bang om te probeer, want ek weet nie of ek daarop sal kan bly nie. Ek stel myself so teleur, ek faal met baie goed, meeste goed, wat ek my voorneem om te doen. En dan verder, as die spanning eendag skiet, en ek begin weer vreet omdat ek hartseer of kwaad of iets is, dan sal dit my gemoed heeltemal breek. Dit klink baie dramaties, maar ek weet dit intuitief.
We still chat every day, by email when I am busy or I can tell he is not in the mood for the immediateness of IM (I am not always inthe mood either), or by IM.
He had bad luck last week, someone broke into his car and stole his bag with his wallet, ID, Cell phone and medications. Fortunately he found his ID back. I should have, maybe still will, mention the logic of leaving nothing on the seats. He can be so blithe.
He was without his medication for 4 or 5 days, and it caught up with his yesterday. He went to his doctor, and is better.
I miss him today. He was out all day for training. I am very pleased that he is being trained, he can take it far if he want to. I think he does want to.
The other thing that is eating him is his ex, JP. They made out in a bad way, and have not spoken except to fight since. It has been 4 or 5 months, and in spite of him saying JP is an asshole and other invective, he really is still unhappy about the whole thing. I think he realises it can never work, but it bugs him that things are unresolved, and that they often run into each other, have overlapping circles of friends, and there is this atmosphere.
So, my friendship with him continues. He is at a time in his life when he has to make the leap from youthful fucking around to adult responsibilities. To my amusement he told me yesterday that he started wearing suits and ties to work. No more jeans and t-shirts.
I was pleased with this evidence that he is taking his job seriously. He has now been there almost three months. He seems to be happy, and thrives on being busy and working under a slight pressure all the time.
For all his talking to me, about all kinds if subjects and sometimes quite openly, I still feel very much on the periphery of his life. If asked he will say that I know more about the details of his life than anyone else. I believe him when he says this.
But that I am his 'confessor' does not make him my friend, or at least in the sense I want it. I mean, we are friends, but friendship takes many forms.
We talk daily, by email and IM chat, a long running conversation. Maybe when he sees me, a plump, older woman, he becomes uncomfortable? I can never judge how people see me, but I wonder "what does he see?" What does anyone see?
Yesterday a friend told me that she is having an affair.
Today he showed me photos that someone took of him on Monday night. Some are in black and white. He is smoking, and he holds the cigarette with those long fingers, eyes hooded behind the glasses.
I joked that I will use the images as my screensaver, and he said that's alright, people will ask 'who is that? And will I say, my toyboy?'
I laughed and said, 'no, what I really want to say is, this is my writing partner.'
And that is true.
But in my heart of hearts, I also want to say 'this is my forever friend, and sometimes my lover'.
... tall and slender. Not pretty, but pleasing to look at, for sure. He has beautiful eyes, an odd shade of green, and absurdly long lashes. He has two tattoos, one at the back of his neck, and one on his lower back. I have wanted to touch those so often, but I don't touch him.
I have a crush on a gay friend. Not only is he years younger than I am, but he is gay. Very gay. Not even in his youth did he experient with girls. Geez, this is so embarrassing, I find it hard to write this down even to myself.