Thursday, January 19, 1995

I guess I ended up taking quite a long break, huh?

Before I get into the pros and cons of Tom moving into my room, I must say one other thing.

I’d like to have Tom move in to give me more of a sense of “normality.” He also says it’d make it easier to have sex more often and would make him feel better overall, too. He can sleep through anything, too. Lights, movement, music, and the fan. I slept fine when he slept in here after my surgery, but now that I’m better and even though people tend to move less on a waterbed, I’m still afraid I’ll be woken up more often. Like several times a night. Also, I feel that everybody needs their space and their own little private domain. If we’re fighting, the last thing I’m gonna want to do is be closer to him. We did talk about moving my stereo, card table and bookcase in there, so that’s cool. I told him he could bring up moving in this weekend at some point during the weekend, but I have a feeling he may not do so. I sometimes wonder if he’s as anxious as he says he is about moving in. Truthfully, he can take his time as far as I’m concerned. I’m not going anywhere.

Later…

Gosh, I wish I was tired! Instead, I am wide awake. I fell asleep at 3 AM last night and set the alarm for 10. I didn’t quite get out of bed till 11:15.

Tom watched me work out earlier and I did all of each exercise. How the hell I did, I don’t know. Especially when it’s been a while and I’m feeling as flabby as Jell-O.

I’m almost done with that book. Got 20 pages left.

Tomorrow morning Tom’s going grocery shopping. If he doesn’t, though, we’ll go together at night.

He’s also gonna take his parents to the racetrack, find out business license information, finish Tammy’s disk, then we’ll go meet his brother at his parent’s house in the evening.

Out in the kitchen, there’s a list of the stuff we want to do during his next two days off.

He and I both have expressed how we’re glad there’s been more sex and hope to have even more. However, I hope he doesn’t use the busy next two days as an excuse to put off sex as well as an opportunity to instill and almost force patience in me. Just like I fear he may try to do with us having a kid. He’s even admitted on his own to me that he’s got to stop making various kinds of excuses. Tom’s never proven himself to be a liar to me, but sometimes I feel he may not always be too upfront with me or himself.

The force of patience idea is an example. Meaning, he never said he was doing that, but for some reason, if I really can have a kid, I wouldn’t be surprised if it were born when I was 32-33.

Another example is Tom’s response to our talking about his cumming: “But I’m going to.”

Sure. Uh-huh. He’s said this 1-3 times a month since we met. If it wasn’t for a good part of me wanting a kid, believe me, I’d be thrilled. Less stench and mess. Great method of birth control too, cuz very rarely does one get away, so to speak.

In a way, I’m sort of glad Tom can sometimes be hard to figure out and thoroughly understand. The same with “God’s” plans and motives. It gives me something to do. You know how I love to figure out shit. Or try to, anyway. Yup, I would’ve made a great detective.

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