Posts Tagged exciting
Moving to a new apartment is both exciting and strenuous. For me, anything new is stimulating, but the arduous task of physically moving is exhausting. I needed to call in reinforcements.
Before my big move, I enlisted the help of my parents. When I broached the subject with them, my mother pointed out their physical inability to help my move. She volunteered them to come help me pack or unpack, but they were not lifting any boxes. I would never even consider the idea since neither of them are spring chickens.
I preferred they help me unpack because I would be able to pack over a long period of time, but I would need to have my apartment set up quickly for my holiday party. I also had a few major alterations I wanted to implement in the new place. I design a closet I would need to build to fit all my clothes. (This is where my inner gay comes screaming out).
They were set to arrive Thursday night in time to come watch my sister and I play in our weekly volleyball league. They were going to stay through the weekend, so my mother made lasagna and was bringing a turkey. We planned to go to the gym for our match and then have a late night dinner after.
The night before, Smiles offered for me to stay with him Thursday night since he knew my parents were staying with me. I graciously accepted since it would save me from sleeping on the couch when I gave up my bed for my parents. I thought it was really sweet of Smiles to notice that and offer a solution. He was also going into surgery the next day. While I was comforting him and put on a brave face since he was so worked up about it, I am always slightly concerned any time someone goes under the knife, especially when they’re being put under. I care a great deal about him, so I was thrilled to sleep with him the night before surgery.
My parents have seen my sister play volleyball in college, but had never seen me play. I was excited for them to be there. However, I was still exhausted. I could barely keep my eyelids open, as they felt like sandpaper, and I could barely lift my arms. We were doing fairly well, when out of nowhere, I came down on the side of my ankle after a hit. I knew as I was coming down to the floor it was a bad sprain. I’d sprained both ankles many times before running cross-country and playing tennis in high school. I was done.
I moved over to the bleachers to elevate my ankle and ice while my team finished out the matches. My mother took the opportunity to point out that I should have taken the night off. A sprained ankle couldn’t have come at a worse time. I still had a lot I needed to do that weekend. The only thing that could have made it worse was if it came the night before the big move.
My team fared well without me, and they all came over to console me after they finished. The sprain was bad, but I was able to walk on it. This wasn’t my first rodeo. I knew exactly what I was in for.
When I got home, my mother, who teaches athletic training to high school students, wrapped my ankle. I hadn’t told my parents yet, but I was still planning to ride into the city and spend the night in Smiles’ bed.
As we were waiting for the lasagna to heat up in the oven, I proposed my sleeping situation to them. They didn’t seem phased by it, but pointed out that I needed to be home in the morning at a reasonable hour. I told them about his surgery and how I would have to leave earlier regardless, but I wasn’t waking up until 9:00 anyway.
I was leery about the ride into the city. When I sprained my ankle, all I could think about was if it would limit my ability to shift gears on my motorcycle to ride into the city to Smiles’ bed. Luckily, I was still able to do so after wrapping it.
Smiles called to see when I would be coming into the city, and I told him I would arrive around midnight after we finished eating.
I got my parents settled, threw on sweats to head into the city and was on my way.
When I arrived, Smiles told me how long he had to go without eating or drinking anything, even water. He was a little worked up, so I did my best to calm his nerves. I told him to concentrate on his hot doctor instead. I was really hoping for one last throw down in the sheets since I knew he’d be out of commission for quite some time, but since it was so late, that wasn’t in the cards. Instead, after chatting a little bit about my ankle and his surgery, we dozed off in each other’s arms.Follow @onegayatatime
Congratulations to me! (Or should I say congratilations to us, considering I feel this has grown to become a community and not just a place for me to spill the beans.) This site reached 20,000 page views last night, and I had more traffic yesterday than any previous day. I’m very proud of the community of bloggers and commenters interacting here. So, keep reading, and I’ll keep writing.
Anyway… On with the show…
Smiles and I rode the motorcycle through some decent traffic back to his apartment from Brooklyn. It was now fully dark outside since daylight savings time kicked in.
We hopped off the bike and climbed the stairs to his apartment. He suggested seeing Twilight: Breaking Dawn pt 1 in the car earlier that evening, but now that we were back in the apartment, it seemed he had a change of heart. Instead, he suggested we pick a Netflix movie and order sushi for the night.
To be honest, it didn’t matter to me what we did. It was all just bonus because I had no idea we’d be spending so much time together. I relished every minute. At this point, we’d spent 30 hours straight by each other’s side. This was often the case with me. As long as we were together, I was happy, no matter what we were doing.
Was I losing a piece of my own identity? Possibly. Am I okay with that? Yea. I think I am.
He pulled up a sushi menu, and we decided what to order. I asked him for more comfortable attire since I had been wearing jeans all day, part of which was riding on a motorcycle.
While we laid there, I placed my hand on his thigh with my thumb behind his knee. This was often how we watched movies. At one point he shifted a bit, so I pulled my hand back to another comfortable position. He reached down and placed my hand back from where I removed it. It sent a message to me he was enjoying the intimacy and my touch. He rarely verbalizes these sort of things to me. I never really know where I stand with him, and at times feel I am constantly auditioning for the role of the doting boyfriend. I feel it is part of the reason I am not climaxing with him. I haven’t yet felt comfortable with him where I haven’t been under pressure to make sure he likes me. I am hypersensitive to these sort of things, so when he does things like moving my hand back, I enjoy the moment for all its worth.
Our food arrived, and we ate in bed while we watched the conclusion of the movie. When it was over, we cleaned our plates, put away the leftovers and got ready for bed. Sadly, I still didn’t have a toothbrush at his place, so morning breath was sure to ensue. I did my best to brush with my toothpaste covered finger. Not very effective.
We climbed into bed and fell asleep next to each other. I’m always one for cuddling, so I would like it if we cuddled or spooned a bit before dozing off on the nights we slept together, but it wasn’t something I felt comfortable broaching just yet. Again, I was still thrilled I was sleeping over and wasn’t sent home hours earlier.
For every low point, there is a high point. The day had a nice start with a bit of an exciting/rocky afternoon. It concluded very pleasantly, so overall I had to seem is a success. I felt we were growing closer. No one spends that much time with someone unless they are extremely lonely or interested in a relationship with them. Or at least that is my line of thinking…Follow @onegayatatime