He kissed me on the forehead, surprising both of us, I think, stood still for a brief hug, and left me in my lab to continue spasming at my machines until well past 9pm on a Friday.
It only hit me hours later, when he was already on the road to Ottawa, that he was gone for the weekend and that I won't be able to see him until Monday...
It's like a long distance relationship only worse, at work we don't talk, not much at least though we're getting more comfortable at being friends publicly, and on weekends he's gone, out of reach with his daughters, the two people I definitely want to be more important to him than me.
But the inescapable tug at the heartstrings is there, almost as if I'm secretly looking for it, wanting to miss someone more than I want to be with them.
I don't think that is the case, truly -- but still. Somehow the evidence of our dealings together adds up to strange equations.
and this week, perhaps because I turned down his offer for more lessons in writing (I am attempting to teach him that language is more an elaborate set of lego blocks than it is an object in itself, immovable and unbending) and the ultimately ensuing sexual escapades (how a man his age has that sort of stamina I don't understand but am definitely not complaining!) because my boys want to turn Thursday nights back into regular gaming sessions...
He has been acting strangely. Trying to tell me something, but the mechanism to communicate isn't there, we've been too casual until now, acting as casual sex partners, and not much more than casual friends....
And he has been asserting and reasserting that "I really enjoy spending time with you" and that I'm certainly no yuppie or any of the horrid things I am prone to accusing myself of in tired moments, and he has been bemoaning the schedules that keep us apart from each other during the few evenings during the week that we have in common...
And it's nice. I don't want to question it.
I am simply going to draw a bath, read a Heinlein novel and attempt to loose the havoc of today's meetings to lavender and tea-rose bubbles.
And I'm going to miss him, sweetly. Him, and his clean, distinct scent, and the way the entirety of his skin feels. I am going to think of the slickness of his tongue as it slips against my lips, and I am going to look forward to that play that we are going to see together soon as I get around to booking tickets.
And we've made plans to lose ourselves in cafes with paper notebooks (there was some confusion there) and let streams of words fall together, and I'm going to look forward to that, too.
And I'm going to wonder how to make my schedules, and gaming sessions, and ski team weekends and Foufounnes Tuesdays and the whole rest of it work.
And I'm going to figure out another plan, so that I can get back to the gym and get back to martial arts and get back to volunteering some more and acting like I care about the world around me.
He told me I had a big heart today, and it meant a lot.