The Revelations of Apple Cider
Thursday, November 27th, 2003
The Revelations of Apple Cider
A Dom Entry
As of three minutes ago, I have twenty-six days to get things together. Just twenty-six days.
Billy and I had a wonderful Thanksgiving feast this evening. Well, it wasn't much actually, (since I did much of the cooking with few supplies), but we certainly ate a lot of it. Got a small turkey from the market late yesterday and some of that nice, boxed stuffing mix. Billy managed to find some potatoes at the house, so we cooked up all of that. Well, we had a little trouble with peeling the potatoes, which I won't go into in great detail. Just know that the both of us came out quite dirty, Billy making a vow never to handle a vegetable peeler again.
It was just the two of us for dinner. It's a shame that Billy doesn't have anyone else around. What was he doing last year? Reading the same book he has been for the past...I don't know...four months? He had that pleading look all night, though; the kind that was just on its knees begging for me to run out and get MS. I told Bill that MS was probably enjoying his own Thanksgiving meal with a friend and wouldn't feel right leaving the table. Which is true. He wouldn't. And he didn't. And he loved the conversation after the meal, so he was quite glad he stuck around.
Billy and I sat at the table, (tummies quite full), chatting aimlessly for a bit before we moved the talk to the couch. Bill had insisted I buy cider for the night, so we drank it in wine glasses, pretending to have something of a sophisticated evening. But I knew Billy couldn't have gone all night without mentioning MS again. And I actually get excited when he does it, not that I should. I should really just try to be a patient ear and not a flirtatious mouth. But I want so badly for him to see that I'm a part of this whole thing - not necessarily that I'm MS, but that I have a part in his, (what Billy called), "stunning character."
I've just figured out why I've been acting so out-of-character myself recently. It all started with the letters, you know. Suddenly I was schizophrenic. Like I took on one two many roles. I mean, I know that I'm MS...but...I'm not...in a way. It was all just mashed together like our Thanksgiving potatoes. And I finally just lost my focus. I mean, I was focusing on MS, and about feeling the right way. I just wasn't focusing on Billy anymore, which was the whole point in the first place. Tonight, while Bill and I sat on the couch exchanging bits of talk and sips of cider, it just clicked. For the first time in...I don't even remember how long...I was just focusing on Billy; nothing else. And he was absolutely the way MS had been describing him all along - lovely, beautiful, sweet, wonderful. Every time I'm with Billy face-to-face I see it. Later, when I write about it, it's gone, unless it's in MS's letters. My point is, everything in MS's letters is the truth. But that's because they aren't his letters. They're mine. And I think Billy is lovely, and beautiful, and wonderful... And that's all just because he is. And now I'm just going to do my conscious a big favor and forget about MS for a while. I want it to be just like it was tonight - just Billy and me.
It's amazing what a glass of cider will do.
Anyway, I don't feel so wrecked anymore, if that's any consolation. I'm still not ready for Christmas Eve, but I suppose I'll put off worrying about that. (Still, I practically wrote "I will sleep with you Christmas Eve" on every one of his letters. He isn't going to want to sleep with me).
Like I said, I'm going to put all of that worry off for a while.
Hell, what am I going to get Bill for Christmas anyway? I don't suppose he likes obnoxious music...that's all I seem to know how to buy. That and food. Man, and I have to get him two presents! Or maybe I'll get a joint gift. Wouldn't that be sweet. "To Billy. Love, Dom and MS." And there you have it.
Billy hasn't written a letter yet. He's actually started to say, "Oh, I'll do it later, don't worry about it, Dom." Why would I worry? He's spending so much time with me now, (as opposed to MS), and though his letters are completely charming, I rather like talking with him in person. And, (good on me), he must enjoy being with me, too, for some reason. Said we should have a sit-in movie night on Saturday after I get home. Sounds great. I hope we can get ice cream. And more cider. I think I've developed a fixation.
Thought I'd pick up a dark chocolate mocha for Billy tomorrow morning, before I head out for work. Let's see if he can put MS out of mind for one more day...
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