Monday
10:35 pm
Derek had texted me while I was
pacing around the Triple A studio. Since
the poker guys were all at my place, I’d enthusiastically said yes to his
suggestion that I come over.
Except that I was regretting it
now.
“You don’t need to get your own place,
you know,” Derek said, after I told him that I thinking of moving out of
Dad’s.
Ever since referring to me as his
girlfriend the other night, I’d been very aware of the fact that we were moving
at two different speeds; mine hovers somewhere around glacial. I am crazy about him, but the thought of
commitment really freaks me out.
“My place is big enough for both of
us,” he said.
My knees almost buckled at that. “As amazing as you are, babe, it’s not a
matter of being with you more. I just
want my own space.”
“I could put this place on the market
and we could look for something together.”
Oh
oh. More buckling.
I could think of a million things I’d
rather do - like drink a Marmite and
Drano smoothie – than have this conversation right now. Serves me right for yakking about it before
I’d thought it through. Gawd, how I
sometimes wished that my mouth were in my left buttock instead of being right
next door to my brain. Some thoughts
should have to be tempered by distance before being verbalized.
Derek is awesome. He’s very handsome, with thick dark hair,
expressive eyes, a firm jaw, and a dynamite smile. He also has a great sense of humour, a sharp
intellect, and is fantastic in the sack.
What more could I want?
In
a word: Independence.
In my band days, during my twenties, I
had shared a house with friends for a while, and then later I had lived with a
boyfriend. That had been a huge mistake,
but fortunately, it had been short lived.
So, it’s not as if I’ve never left the roost.
Derek continued, “We could look for a
house, maybe a three bedroom. That way,
we could each have our own home office.”
“It’s not the size. I’m just not sure I’m ready for such a big
step.” I could feel my neck
stiffening.
“We’re together all the time any way, or
at least we are when our work schedules coincide,” he said.
“I’m just... It doesn’t... It’s about
more than just being with you or not being with you or how big the house
is. I’ve always lived with other
people. I’ve never been totally on my
own. I need to do that.”
“Why? You know you can take care of
yourself. You don’t have to prove
anything.” He reached over to put his
arm around me, but I pulled back.
“It’s not a question of proving. It’s a question of wanting,” I snapped. I could feel my neck and shoulders knotting
right up – quite the contrast to last night when Derek had been nuzzling them.
“Isn’t that a little indulgent? I mean, look at Toronto real estate prices and
rents.”
My teeth were beginning to ache. I couldn’t see this line of discussion taking
us anyplace I wanted to go, and I wished again that I had kept my big mouth
shut. I wished I had just gone home and
joined the poker players, whether they wanted me there or not. “I’m aware of
what it costs to live in this city. I’m
also aware of the fact that I can decide what to do with my money.”
“Whoa... I’m not trying to tell you
what to do.”
It sure felt like he was. “I’m too tired to think about this right
now. Let’s just go to sleep.”
For the first time since we started
seeing each other, we went to bed without having frenzied firecracker sex. I tossed and turned for about two hours, then
finally slipped out of bed. I dressed in
the dark, and then skulked down to the lobby, where I got the condo concierge
to call me a cab.
I’ve really got to get my driver’s
licence.
No comments:
Post a Comment
Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.