Chrisonomicon

Sunday, July 21, 2002

Mike flashes a smile from the driver's seat of his 4-Runner as I take off in the opposite direction and I wave goodbye, biting my lower lip as I smile to myself. Such a little thing, but when you've dated people who show less acknowledgement or less attention to your presence, the little gestures such as a smile or a wave become monumental.

The weekend was warm and mellow, spotted with a few nights of frenzied activity, running from party to party—two each night, to be exact, and that's not counting the one's I had to decline. It's been a while since I'd socialized that much and I awkwardly dredged up my dusty etiquette hat to meet the occasion suitably dressed. At the end of each night, Mike was next to me and we unwound in each other's arms, a forgotten comfort now deliciously new.

I had thought about cutting things off with him. Ending things with Steve was easy since, after all, he stopped calling after I explained that I wanted something more serious and was going to look elsewhere if he wasn't interested. I worried about their friendship and had decided that the responsible thing would be to end all relations with both, but the tension between Mike and Steve is slowly subsiding and I'm sure they'll reconcile in no time. The connection Mike and I have is also too good to overlook. I want to wait this out and see where things go.

Days of activity seem to flash by, fast-forward, to the moment in which I'm sitting here punching out my thoughts. The afternoon slowed steadily to a trot, and now I look around at the clean apartment, the dishes washing after a dinner with dad, the AC quietly snoring behind the walls, and feel amazingly fulfilled as though everything went as planned. Whether that feeling is due to a physical contentment after a weekend of good food and good sex is still debatable but things certainly feel as though they are falling into place.