I Think This Is Coming-to-Terms
Tuesday, November 4th, 2003
I Think This Is Coming-to-Terms
A Dom Entry
I got a letter from Billy yesterday.
Just to emphasize that point a bit:
I wish... you were here. That instead of wallowing away my time with a book in front of the fire, I could spend it with you, warm in your arms. Maybe that would snap me out of this funk I seem to have fallen into. But it's silly for me to complain.
I had better be the only spirit haunting you. And I was. Could you feel it? Did you know I was there?
I hope wherever you are, you're keeping warm. Take care, love.
...I have to stay here. I'm getting in over my head, and the worst part is...I'm enjoying it so much. I think I've gotten most of my thoughts straight. I know I have to go home. Or call home. Something along those lines...sometime. But my priorities have changed since I came here. Especially since I started the letters. If Billy doesn't write, I go mad. Really, I can't think about anything else. Those days are just wrong. Thinking about home is wrong. Well, actually, thinking about myself calling in for a ticket out, and stepping onto that bus...then arriving into the big city - some unfamiliar town - and finding a cheap plane ride home... It just isn't right. That isn't want I want to do. It just isn't what I want.
Thinking about being here with Billy... I wander the house, peeking my head to the windows, knowing that wherever I go, Billy will be right in the next room the whole time. Going to work...I can write him a letter, think about him all I want, say anything I want in those letters and he will only blush and smile as I watch him read it later - over, and over, and over again... I love that. I bloody love it.
That's what I want.
I still feel guilty about home. About mum, and dad, and even my brother, (though he lives on his own, of course). I don't want to let them down. But, more than that, I don't want to let myself down - do the wrong thing; feel miserable for the rest of my "practical" life. More than anything else, I don't want to let Billy down, or leave him all alone.
If I go, MS goes with me. It isn't as though I can send letters postmarked from the UK. And what would be the point? Billy would never meet MS after that anyway. He wouldn't even have the chance. The letters would end. MS would disappear. It would just be me, but I wouldn't even be there anymore. I wouldn't be with Billy.
I thought that my obligation was to go back home. But I was completely confused. My obligation is keeping that smile on Billy's face, for as long as I can. He's counting on me, though he doesn't know it yet. I have to make sure he's all right. I need to make sure MS is always caring for him, writing.
He called me "love."
It's so much more personal when written. Now it's permanent. Not unnoticeable, like when it's spoken. I wonder which of these he meant.
I'll write him back tonight, of course.
I'll tell him that Dom wants to stay.
Then I can't back out of it.
And I'll tell him myself.
Everything's all right.
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