Thank You

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It's been nearly two years and he's now the manager of Denny's, which is pretty good time wise, the other manager was retiring after thirty odd years and choose Him as her replacement. I'm still doing freelance design work most days and it's flourished into a real business but it still doesn't take up too much of my time - that's reserved for Kiwi.

I looked back and realized that outside of the few people we invited to have sex as a threesome I haven't had one-on-one sex with anyone, and neither has he since he moved in, I think this year for my birthday I'll go out and meet someone new.

We still have sex nearly every day, though never in my bed or bedroom, and it's good, passionate and surprising. It's become a game to see who can surprise who, I like to sneak up on him when he's showering or doing laundry most of all but sometimes I wait a little while after he's gone to bed and crawl in with him. Sex between us has evolved, sometimes we don't actually have sex but rather tease each other for a few hours and then I retire to my room, but always with the, "Thank you." given and received.

I got my library he took an entire weekend off to help me build it, and Kiwi got a large outdoor aviary to spend his days in. Oh, and his friends have either matured, or they're scared because even when they stay for the weekend they pick up after themselves and don't bring bar sluts back to the house.

**************************

I knew this day would come; he came to me and asked for money, it may have taken nearly four years but it happened. The Denny's is for sale and he wants to buy it. I have faith that he can run it properly and I'm so glad I got that paperwork. I'm not ready to tell him yet, because the amount he's asking for is more than what is saved but I'm going to go ahead and tell him anyways I guess.

"I sort of lied to you, have been lying to you."

"About what?"

"Your rent is actually only $75 - your half of the cable, internet, and trash bills, that night you came over and signed the papers - remember - one of the papers I had you sign that you didn't look at was a consent to open an account form, the extra $200 you've given me every month all this time has gone into that account with your name on it. The money is yours I was going to keep it a secret until you decided you wanted to move out so that you could buy a house or at least get a decent apartment and not have to worry about things. I hope you aren't mad."

"Wait, what? That's nearly 10 grand!" he said wonderingly, stunned for a second, and then gleefully laughed and gave me a big hug.

"You aren't mad then?"

"No way! This is literally the best thing anyone's ever done for me, with that money and what my parents are willing to lend I've got more than enough."

"I'm so happy for you; I know you'll do great!"

So is it spoken, so shall it be; he bought the restaurant and runs it quite well with a little coaching from his dad. I am happy that he's happy, and he's got more free time and has decided to go to a culinary arts school part time. We had our first mini-argument, over the rent and the two hundred dollars a month. For some daffy reason he wanted to pay me back still, but I convinced him otherwise and agreed to take the $200 from all future rent checks and actually keep it, "hem, little does he know he signed an agreement for TWO accounts." I don't have any idea when he's going to need the next money, but it'll be there just in case.

Sometimes he gets this strange look in his eyes, and at first he asked, "Why? Why'd you invite me here, why'd you... how?" and I would smile and say, "Because you're my friend." Always getting the same answer finally got him to stop asking, it was a strange question even I can't really answer to tell the truth.

***************************************

Five years is a long time, and I think I've done something horribly wrong. Once again it was Christmas, neither of us obviously forgot what he said Christmas several years ago but I was still clueless as to what he meant and not really thinking of it consciously anymore.

This was the first year we spent the days leading up to Christmas together and he invited me to his parents' house, and my parents for some reason wanted Him to come to ours. So we celebrated three Christmas' this year, the third being our own quiet private Christmas with the pets. Gladly He didn't say anything weird, it was a beautiful day with snow and pumpkin pie, and I was in heaven. Again, I went to retire after a night of movies and a lengthy popcorn ball fight with Kiwi in the middle; He simply said a sweet goodnight. I showered, changed, and crawled into bed and settled down to sleep.

Not long after I felt the bed move, and Him sliding in behind me - for the very first time. He was warm and he slipped an arm around me and settled down peacefully, there were no advances on his part, just simply held me. I could feel his even breathing and his heart beating and his warmth enveloping me and for some reason I found it intolerable. I started crying, I mean profoundly sobbing and I know not where that emotion came from. As soon as I realized I wasn't going to get control of myself I slid out of his grasp, ran and locked myself in my bathroom. When I finally came out he was gone from my room and I was distraught that he was, but also relieved. I took a sleeping pill and went to bed.

The next morning I woke up foggy from the pill, got up, showered, and dressed - he was in the basement doing laundry and half watching a movie. I said good morning and he returned my greeting and that's the only words we said to one another all day.

This continued, I asked him to help me take down the Christmas decorations and he did pleasantly, we went through our daily routine as normal. He left for two days to go visit friends for new years and I took care of the animals while he was gone. When he returned things were normal, but not. At dinner that evening he told me he was giving notice to move out.

I didn't ask why, I didn't really care at that point I was confused and upset and just wanted to work and sleep and not think about things and get back to how things were. I was a little angry that he had chosen to break a barrier that had stood for so many years, and why did he do it? I was glad he was moving away, things were perfect for five years and now they were obviously ruined anyhow so moving out was the best solution. I was a mess, but acting quite normal.

The month leading up to his move we didn't have sex, for the first time in years. I said goodbye to the crazy cat, Kiwi said goodbye to her though he really didn't understand what was happening. It was stressful on Kiwi but not I, I just tried to stay out of the way. The day finally came; I was in the kitchen drinking a glass of soymilk, Kiwi on his perch next to the table. He came in and Kiwi called out to him, He scratched Kiwi and said the silly little things he always said and then looked at me and said, "Thank you."

That was it, he turned and left, I didn't cry, though Kiwi did. It was hard to hear my beloved birdie boy pine for Him and I found myself avoiding him and avoiding His room. It only took me a few days to realize how unhealthy and unhappy I was, so I called my vet and thankfully he knew someone who would parrot sit Kiwi, someone very kind and experienced. I went to visit my parents and ask them to look after my house while I was on vacation and they seemed stunned that He had moved out.

My mom questioned me, "Just like that? No forwarding addresses, nothing - he moved out?"

"Yeah mom, I mean he was nearing 30, he owns his own business and I know he didn't really need a roommate anymore, in fact it was astonishing he stayed so long. I'm glad he's gone, I'm looking forward to my vacation."

"But..."

"But WHAT!?"

"Nothing..." I gave her a look, and she said, "He wanted to keep it a surprise, he didn't - he was going to ask you to marry him. Didn't he?"

I sat quietly for a minute, and then said in measured tones, "I always knew he was a bit silly, no, he didn't ask me, and if he had I would have said no. He was my roommate and friend, that's all."

************************************

My week's vacation turned into 7 months; there are some really great people and some really great drugs in Bali. The climate is beautiful, the people are beautiful, everything is beautiful. Finally I realized I was spending far too much money, had lost far too much weight, and needed to stop or I was never coming back to the states, at least not breathing.

I said tearful goodbyes to all my friends, loaded several suitcases with all the fantastic jewelry and clothes that I'd collected, and headed home. The plane trip was uneventful. My reunion, however, was not. My parents had apparently panicked when they realized I was high as a kite and somewhere far beyond their reach, but hadn't openly breached this conversation on the phone with me, instead their strange minds decided to call Him and his parents and keep them up to date on the situation and I heard not a whisper of this.

So I went to see Kiwi, and he had had a rough time but was ok thanks to the great vet and unlimited funds to care for him. I left him with the bird sitter until I was ready to resume his care, whenever that would be. I only called my parents to let them know I was ok and back home, I left a message saying how tired I was and I would visit in a day or two. I had barely had time to set my suitcases down, pee, and start opening the dusty curtains when both He and my parents pulled up and strode to the door looking anxious.

Of course the sight of me gone half wild, my hair in dreads and dressed in strange clothes with several new piercing and a tattoo still grungy from lack of a hot shower for months and thin as a rail was probably a bit of a shock.

"Hello." I said with a grin, somewhat happy to see some familiar faces even though I knew trouble was brewing.

My mom was first to go off, "Don't 'hello' us, do you have any idea how worried I've been about you! How worried we've all been, not knowing where you were anything could have..." her tirade was broken by a long sob from my father and he sat down heavily on the front stairs.

I felt a twinge of something, but then took control of the situation. "I appreciate your concern, I know you love me mother but I'm 26, which is old enough to know when I've had enough and what my limits are. I'm sorry if I scared you but I'm home now and plan on staying home for quite some time, so won't you all please come in and have a seat?"

"Really, c'mon, it's ok, I'm home and I've got a lot of fun stories to tell you and you need to hear because nothing bad happened to me while I was gone - not one bad thing." My father needed another few minutes but then pulled himself together, my mother seemed mad still and I hadn't heard a word outta Him yet. We sat down; I offered everyone a glass of water and started talking.

I talked about the lighter things, the differences, the language, the food, the clothes first, then the poverty and corruption of the government and the destruction of the environment in the area. I talked about my friends and how I helped at a parrot rehab center for a few months and what a great experience it was... my parents didn't know about that. They always called on the weekend when I was e-tarded and out of my mind, so that did a lot to soothe their nerves.

Slowly we started joking, my father made some rather racist remarks about my hair and clothes and new tan, and He made some of his own. We ended up ordering pizza and talking for the evening then my parents excused themselves, they had to go home and take care of their pets. I was a bit anxious when I saw that he didn't get up to go, but soothed my ruffled feathers and waited to see what would happen.

Surely he wasn't going to start talking about what happened, please no..."About what happened, I don't understand it, but I think I made a rash decision in moving out -"

I cut him off, "It doesn't matter it's in the past, and I know what happened and moving out was exactly the right thing for you to do. We lived together for five years and had sex - supposedly the most intimate act that a person can experience - and it was intimate and beautiful and our time together was beautiful but the whole time I held you at arms length because... because that's what was most comfortable, maybe not always what I wanted, but it was comfortable and what I needed and so when you came in and tried to be honestly out rightly affectionate it was too much for me to handle, I denied myself the pleasure of deep affection between us. I like to think with each other we found other ways of expressing our love - yeah, love, don't look at me like that - than cuddles and kisses and it was mature and beautiful and perfect and playful and yes, in some weird way I still thought of you as only my room mate and my old fuck buddy even though my feelings changed - once again because it was comfortable. So I'm guilty of wanting to be comfortable, and not talking to you about stuff, and being afraid and not giving you credit for growing up and not being the asshole you once were, so instead I'm the asshole. Tell me though - were you scared like my parents?"

"Nope, not in the slightest, I knew you'd come back." and he grinned, and I hit him but not too hard and called him an asshole.

"So, when are you moving back in? I haven't cleaned a bathroom in years almost haven't seen one in a year, and I don't think I can get used to that again..." and he called me a bitch, and smacked my ass then gave me a big kiss.

And we lived happily together, Kiwi and the crazy cat came back to live with us, and Kiwi was very happy to see Him again. He keeps joking about marriage and I keep telling him dropping acid together is as 'married' as we're going to get. Oh, and now when his friends come over I'm not afraid to go talk to them and sit with them in the living room... apparently all his friends changed their earlier appraisal of me, that they don't like me, and I feel really welcome. And yes, sometimes I let him sleep in my room.