When it rains, it floods, literally. After spending the day at the Higham Family School teaching poetry to kids, and doing individual evaluations, I drove home in the pouring rain, tributaries feeding into Brush Creek, overflowing the road, new potholes since this morning.
Nearing home I think about Jim, and arrive home to find him reading in my bed. The cats are in the kitchen crunching on cat food, it's a scene of domestic bliss that I wasn't prepared for.
But I was very happy to see Jim regardless of the fact that he and Nancy are once again on the skids. It was April when he went on the good red road, and I saw him very briefly again in August, or September. And he returned at the end of October. It's been more than six months since we spent any time together.
I told him he's been my longest continuous lover, and we reminisced a bit, old friends and lovers since 1981. I queried him about other sex partners, and he assured me that there's been no one else except Nancy. Because he's involved with Sundance, the AIDS issue becomes more critical. The bloodletting in a community where AIDS is skyrocketing. He says he's very careful though.
I just want to be careful who I let enter my body and Jim's been the only one inside me for more than a year except for Sean the other night. It's safe to say that since Marcel left in 1993-94, I have only fucked one man, save Sean. But if Jim is promiscuous and lying, then I'm in a precarious position. It's not his nature to lie.
And the sex is great. I've slept with him for longer than, or as long as he's slept with his wife. At 43, it feels fine, though it's been nine days since my period. We talk about fallopian tubes, his grandson, and the eventual aging of parents and taking care of them. Looking at futures, he shattered once again by this break with Nancy, and me thinking before that, we had a little in common for a long-term relationship, and that feels different now. Wouldn't that be an odd change of events?
I still want to check out the vibes with Edwin Drummond. I'm certainly recycling all the old lovers and friends these days. No new man on the horizon. It's amazing how once I was fully free of Sonny, how my sex life radically changed. What's different about me, besides being free, is that I'm not advertising, nor am I looking for it.
My availability has been mysteriously transmitted to the universe and these men who in turn, called or wrote expressing interest, after many years of non-interest, equally mysterious.
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