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Archive for October 7th, 2008

Ending with bed


My art reception was yesterday and I knew beforehand that the crowd would be slim because the gallery is actually 40 minutes from my house, away from everyone I know. There were people that came through and I stood there for two hours and talked to strangers about my work and then packed up and went home.

Piano Man, who usually heads back up north on Sundays after playing here for the weekend, was coming to my show and offered to drive me, along with the extra portfolios and racks of paintings I was taking to the reception.

As I was driving there, in the passenger seat, with his hand on my leg and my eyes closed, relaxing before the event (which I’ve been thinking about and stressing out about for the last few weeks) I was conscious of the fact that I’ve been with a man the last few months who adds no stress to my life. No worry. No fear. None at all.

After the show, we stopped at a Thai restaurant that looked pretty good. I had awesome Pad Thai and he regretted the reception snacks and blueberry coffee cake he’d eaten during my art event, before he had his Thai curry dish.

We were in a town I was not familiar with and it was one I avoided because it has a reputation for some witchcraft and such. But decided to walk around a bit after dinner anyway.

Seriously.

Creepy stuff.

I kind of held on to his arm, walking cobblestone sidewalks, not thinking about how next, he’d be driving north for the week and I would go home and go to bed.

When we got back on the road to my house to unload and then send him off, he made a sigh of exhaustion, which was much like I felt. I said, “you can stay tonight, you know, if you want.”

And he goes, “okay”, without hesitation. He was not energetic enough to drive two hours at night to get home, and I don’t blame him. Plus, I loved having him stay another night.

Imagine how much we perked up after stopping off at Blockbuster for a movie, having a hot shower and getting in bed to watch it with boxes of Junior Mints and Woppers and hot cups of tea.

That was us, in bed at 7pm on a Sunday night.

 

We were lying there, both exhausted from the weekend, he played two nights of gigs until after midnight, I was up and out with him but also working, getting ready for my art reception. We were happy, though… and we were lying there in bed after the movie, satiated by relaxation and chocolate, down comforters and tea and he  goes, “So, hey, are we going to do it tonight?”

Me, wiped out:  “Sure, but can I just lie here?”

His tired response?  “Great. And how would you like me to do you?”

Laughing in bed is a part of love, I think.

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