They tell me it’s a Monday. And by they I mean no one in particular.

Mike split this morning. We had a good time together. He was off to work before 7 AM and I was up to see him off. He’s a good kid. The friendship is similar to the friendship I had with Juan.
Younger than me, a breath of fresh air and with a point of view I would never have considered.

Bill is on his way home so my time alone is merely a matter of hours, but how those hours lengthen when I have no one around. I suppose it’s always been like this, and not just for me but a lot of people I reckon. Bill had some setbacks in his scheduling all out of his control but he did what he had to do and so he is on his way home.

Here are two dreams from this morning after Mike descended the stairs to the real world.
.
In one I was with Harpy and Farfetched Lois and a few other people from the past at a party which may have been at Fire Island. I wouldn’t know for sure since I have never been to Fire Island. It was a gay event and I was entertaining people, playing a guitar as the party got bigger and bigger and bigger. I had an encounter with a Gimp who was similar to the one portrayed in Pulp Fiction. He came up upon me and I smacked him away which got him mad but he really couldn’t do much of anything being all tied up in his Gimp gear.

Another dream was me trying to connect with Julio to go to a funeral somewhere in the Bronx and he was being awfully kind and I was trying to make his life easier by telling him that I would make my way there on my own. I don’t know who I was looking for near the Grove Street Path station, was it William or Juan? The second dream ended when I was trying to walk around the block while putting on socks that were falling apart in my hand.

Soon after those dreams, I was thinking about the former job and thinking I’d never get back to sleep when I wound up going back to sleep. It was a good sleep and welcomed very much. This afternoon was a stroll around Hoboken, gathering steps. Not as many steps as I would have liked but what could I do?

I will gather some more steps as I go downstairs to help Bill with his luggage. His luggage is quite heavy as Bill is prepared for whatever might happen while en route. I make the same old joke about Bill taking his rock collection, his safe, and a baby grand piano. It’s an old joke and I never said it was a funny joke.

Bill said once he gets here he’ll be going right to bed, so exhausted he is. I can’t fault him for that. I would rather have Bill 20 feet away than 295 miles away which is where he’s been.

Today might be the first day in weeks where I didn’t wear thermals,
I also recorded some videos…

It seems like I am writing every other day. Today is Saturday and I last wrote on Thursday. It was in the afternoon and took about 20 minutes. Bill was on the road and Mike stepped into the breach. I love Bill so very much and both of us realize that I am in bad shape when left on my own.

Bill and I both love Mike very much. He’s a good egg. A breath of fresh air. I keep track of Bill when he’s on the road and Thursday was stressful, as was Friday for Bill and this morning started awkwardly for Bill. It’s his story and not mine to write about. I’m good like that.

Due to circumstances in his new flat, Mike has been here since Thursday. I didn’t mind and if Bill minded he did not let on. The couch was readied for Mike and he took full charge of it. Not a complaint about being uncomfortable. Bill set the couch situation up, as he did on New Year’s Eve.

Mike doesn’t take up too much space and was happy under the comforter. He sleeps like a log and nothing rouses him. And he really believes in me. I am aware of the fortunate position I find myself in, two handsome men concerned about my well-being. Both support me in sweet ways.

Bill knows my sense of humor and it’s usually self-deprecating. That’s new to Mike who feels that I am putting myself down when making jokes about myself. When Bill called on Friday, Bill called Mike, ‘Or Son’. This made Mike cry a bit.

He never felt so welcomed in a home in too long a time. I saw the tears on his face so I knew Mike was not talking through his hat, a phrase my Mother used to say when someone was not being truthful. ‘Lying through their teeth’ is another maternal phrase.

It’s almost 10 o’clock and Mike is asleep in the bedroom since I am staying awake, not going to bed for another hour or so. SInce I am up and watching TV, it wouldn’t make sense for Mike to sleep on the couch so he’s set up on Bill’s side of the bed.

He has to work tomorrow morning and get up early. I’ll see him out and then return to bed once more. But that’s tomorrow and here I am in today. It’s been too cold to do much of anything. I did gather my steps again, over seven thousand totalling 6.64 miles.

I was just walking around Hoboken with Mike and telling him stories about this place or that, including sordid details about a 4 AM rendezvous with a guy that was fairly known in the few pubs of Washington Street at 11th and 10th streets.

Mike doesn’t say much during these walks, whereas Bill and I are nothing but blabbermouths when strolling the boulevard. When we got back to the apartment, Mike told me about how much he enjoyed listening to me or Bill and the stories and histories of where we’d been walking.

It was a bit unnerving initially but therein lies Mike’s charm, not being a blabbermouth.