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.