But You Still Catch My Eye
Sunday, December 21st, 2003
But You Still Catch My Eye
A Dom Entry
Billy still won’t write back. You’d think that would be reason for me to stop worrying so much about Christmas Eve. But, as reason means little to me recently, it’s not.
Today, (Sunday, being my day off, as it were), I told Bill I had to run some errands, and that he shouldn’t follow me if he knew what was good for him, (i.e. Christmas is coming, and I am without a present for him). Although I don’t really suppose he would have followed me, even if he wanted to – which certainly didn’t look like the case. He’s still a bit sore about the MS issue. Every other day I think he’s doing a little better – he comes out of his room, has a bit to eat, reads his book – then the next day he gets a letter and it all starts up again. Must be my fault; it feels like it. I feel awful hurting him with every letter, but I won’t stop writing. I’ve gone this far, and I know I’m going to finish it. Nothing he can do to stop me. After all, he won’t write back and tell me to stop, so where’s the point in doing it?
Anyway, I’m just the innocent go-between, and I have nothing to do with his happiness or depression. So he thinks, that is.
I guess that kind of hurts me, too. I wish he’d realise that I have a little to do with it; and a lot to do with him. Sometimes I just look at him and imagine the two of us holding onto each other, trapped in some kiss. Which is crazy, really, because...well...that kind of thing just doesn’t really happen, does it?
So, getting back to my story... It was Sunday today, (or yesterday, seeing as it’s about one in the morning), and I told Bill I was going out for some errands. Which is an honest remark. But I wasn’t actually going out to buy him a present. Well...I wasn’t, to put it more literally. MS was going out to buy him a present. His Christmas Eve present.
That’s right; I’m really going to finish this. I can’t believe it myself. I understand your surprise.
You can’t imagine all of the deals they’ve got for Christmas lights this time of year. It’s like they’re past expiration or something. So I ended up getting about fifteen packs of the little white kind for Billy’s special Christmas Eve...evening. I’ve actually got something of a plan about this. It’s amazing; it really just came to me one night. You know, one of those nights when I was sitting out having a cocoa with myself and thinking of him. It all came right to mind.
I’ve begun writing a few things for the event. Just for Billy. I’ve got the setting nearly ready to go. Fortunate for me that Billy has an old ladder hanging on the back of his house. And I managed to retrieve a generator from a sort of pawn/antique mart somewhere in town – during break, you know. Well, I really had nothing better to do, as I’d forgotten to make myself lunch that day, but really wasn’t in the mood for it anyway.
To make a long story short, everything’s about ready for Christmas Eve. I really just need to set up a bit and time things just right. I’m planning out what to say. How hard will it be to get Billy out of the house that night? And how the hell will I tell him that I’m MS? Hopefully not like that.
“Good evening, Bill, I’m MS.”
Bloody hell, no.
Times like these I really wish I had some sense of creativity. I really do want this evening to be one of those moments, you know? I want him to remember it often, even if it really doesn’t turn out to be what he wants in the end.
But I’m not thinking about that now. I’m just going to concentrate on getting everything set. I’ll deal with the actual thought of the issue later.
The only big question left – what I’m I getting Bill for Christmas?
Three cat muzzles?
A pair of matching rings?
A partridge in a pear tree?
I wish he would have written this to MS before he gave up the letters. I’m having a time with finding just the right thing. I want it to be perfect, too. Just for him. Or maybe for him and me. Together. The both of us.
That sounds so good.
Damn, I work in six hours. I should get to bed. More work with letters tomorrow. And with Christmas lights.
Lots of work with Christmas lights...
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