This morning, I shivered up and down my spine with each exhale that Matt did against the back of my neck in his near slumber, in my near slumber. To feel these things! Man, it has been an incredibly long time (eight months) since I have slept with anyone, and even then, there were not these things, these slight things, but important things nonetheless, in fact, some of the most important things, these gentle caresses, these soft breathings against my skin, these things creating happiness, an exhaustion of feeling, becoming aware of an entire body, of its sensitivites. God, how I love it.
The night started out with me calling Matt (Kevin's roommate) and Kevin to come out with my friends from work. Kevin could not make it. Matt did. And in the course of the night, I ate some old man's lamb, after he posed the question how much could I eat, and I retorted, however much lamb I am fed. Do with that what you will, but from somewhere emerged this big plate of lamb from some place or other. And it was so good and bloody. Then there was dancing, lots of laughing, making out with some random people, encouraging other people to do the same. Then there was Matt hopping the subway turnstile to get home, a police officer emerging from nowhere, wating around for Matt to get his summons. Then there was more laughing, not more, but a return to the steady stream of laughter that was the night. And then yes, following those Hollywood screen codes, cut to a shot of us in bed together the next morning.
I love being alive. But goddamnit, if fuckface Bush did not almost squelch my happiness this day. But I can contain both, the joy and the rage. It's a dangerous fucking combination, so stay on your toes.