Wonderfool

I haven't written in such a long time. No excuses - I just couldn't find the words nor the time.
I am on holiday in Germany right now, at my dads place at presence. Who is NOT here is my wonderfool.
His name is TJ. He is turning 28 on the 13th of October (indeed, one day after my birthday), he is norwegian. All this just given information is entirely irrelevant. He is sensual and loving, uncomplicated to be around, brilliant with people. I started a list yesterday of the trainride here, making mental notes how wonderful he is and why. It goes on and on. I haven't felt this comfortable before. I can't make this a long post. Trust me, this man is going no where and you will be reading a lot in future.

When your heart is filled with love,
just enjoy and please, shut up!

^_______^

Our Legend

Met D in Glasgow post IKEA shopping (results: 13 items purchased, ~12£ spent - I rock as human being and female!). Slllloooooow conversation at the start. Geez, I sit there and think, what the hell, we fucked, we laughed, we fought and now we can't even speak?
D walks over to the pool table and plays a couple of games. I go for a smoke. I think he loses 2:1 games. He feels hot. I ask if he wants to take a walk. In beauties sake I left my long coat at home. Shit, it's freezing, but as soon as we step outside and Dave shows me his Glasgow, takes me along the river, through parks and stuff --- the silence breaks, my eyes shine, we laugh I take photos of nightly Glasvegas.

I love these occasions. It's my true reward for going through all the pain involving D last year. Everything is both clear as glass and blurry as a neon sign in a drunks wobbly view.
The tidal gate, the old russian whore house, looking down on Glasgow from the parking lot on the seventh floor where D used to work years ago. Well, in a way he used to work everywhere and anywhere years ago.
I don't know if I should feel ashamed for the thought, that if it was just me and him this all would have ended differently. Well, ended. However ending is defined. A door closes, a window opens, and all that rubbish. All I feel is... that it's good.
At the train station D asks where to go now. Paisley I say. On the bus to his place he asks: "So you're not going home then?" and I answer, no. I buy some yogurt and cherries at the petrol station, then we go home. It is a little weird to be back. But not thinking about it makes it easier. D is not very well. I can tell from the way he moves, looks and speaks. He is even more stuck than when I last saw him. It's funny how my mind changed. I am still interested in how he is feeling but I seem to have learned that it's none of my business. We watch "The Dark Crystal", a fantasy film with puppets. It's amazing, I can tell how much D gets lost in this stuff, how nice it is for him to escape occasionally. We're snuggled up on the couch, I'm leaning against him, he's got his arm around me. All is okay, if you blink your eyes and try not to see the whole picture.
The we watch "Legend", which blows me away. The imagery is amazing, the detail and planning that has gone into every single frame is amazing and the story line is breath taking. When it's finished D asks how I thought it was. Daft question, but I think he just want to hear that someone, me, shares his beloved memories, his exit of the world. It is cold in his flat. The weens are not there. I figure he is trying to save money quite desperately. We're wrapped up in the large duvet, which is warm enough anyway.
"So, do you want the couch?" he asks and for a second he sounds like he's buying it himself. We laugh, I go and wash my face and bring the duvet and the wee furry blanket I bought him into the bedroom. Then under the covers. Close.
"I missed this" he says. And we talk. Then fall asleep with all the closeness and distance stuck between our skin, unable to overcome either.
I have learned that Dave is genuinely stuck and I can't change anything about that. That not now doesn't mean not ever. I learned that what we both needed what happened on that Saturday. Time with someone so close you can only stand to see them every now and then. Me, because I mourn over my broken heart and not being able to help him, he, because he suffers seing me all alive and full of what he calls magic, mourning what he thinks he's lost.
I did well. I haven't made his life harder this time.