myblackeyedfire: (Wolf in transcendent isolation)
[personal profile] myblackeyedfire
Paige's boyfriend is a charming gentleman, naturally taking control and enjoying the part of the caring leader. We're of the same coinage, one the obverse of the other. I sense a mutuality there that isn't threatening or stupidly patronizing, nothing of just sit right ohn down, ma'am, and we'll have it ready for you in no time in his demeanor. He simply wants to take care of it himself, whatever 'it' is. I know it, and I feel that impulse too, so I let him.

He is one of five men who I would permit to lead me to a chair while he sets up the guest bed and brings me a glass of water. I approve of his execution, that he takes the pitcher of water and refills it for me wordlessly. Before I have a chance to thank him he's already brought out a towel and a spare set of pyjama pants. He does things in his way, but I see so much of my own style in his way of thinking, of anticipating needs that I smile in approval and tell him he is a gracious host. He replies almost word for word as I might, waving it off, saying he could not do otherwise.

In the morning I fight my own impulse to wake up early and have the bed folded back, the linens folded, and the kitchen counters wiped, for good measure. Knowing he would take offense, I instead read a book he's recommended me, a collection of short stories by Hubert Selby, Jr. I hope he understands how difficult it is for me to leave the guest bed unmade.

Walking from his place to Paige's apartment, I wear a sweater he gave me, since 9 a.m. is no time for the fancy dress of last night. We talk about it, about wanting to take care of others in our company, and she says Shumon and I are nice. I disagree emphatically and say we are gallant. It is a word I find delightful, something to emulate, to strive to become. When I get the chance, I show her the dictionary.com entries for nice and gallant and she agrees, it is the more fitting descriptor. When he visits here, I will enjoy my turn to have him sit while I refill his glass. I don't desire a battle of wills. I want him to see how similar we are in this regard, that we are well-matched in our desire to give satisfaction.
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January 2016

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