I had a very pleasant weekend with Oddity, even with the breakdown in communication and tears for a brief minute on Friday evening and the uncomfortable knowledge that he was being cantankerous most of Saturday. I can live with that; I only see him weekends and this will give me the coping skills for when we are closer to each other.

He does need his space; this is a very concrete reality. It will do me good to not jump in with both feet, and will give me the chance to also be on my own without being totally alone. That is, he loves me. I worry for him but he's coped like this for years. I will accept.

On the other hand, can he accept me the way I am? He decries my 'dreamworld' which I consider my healthy optimism. I know the life he lead and accept that he needs to feel rooted in harsh reality. Can he accept that my reality was too harsh to accept and that I can function better with being optimistic to the point of wishful thinking?

Then again, I've had LOTS of lucky breaks in life and that does lead me to believe that they will continue. Maybe things won't fall into my lap as they did in NY, but they will work out. And if they don't, I'll still be optimistic. He's not like me; he doesn't fall into depression and have to take meds for it. I don't want to go there. I'm not changing; I'm not asking him to change either. He is who he is and I am who I am. I know I can adapt; can he? I sure hope so.

He danced with me for the U2 cover band Saturday night, to the romantic slow songs. He introduced me to more people (whom I want to stay in touch with - they're fantastic!) and this means I may have a small foundation of Lancaster friends to hang with when I'm not spending time with him, which also gives him his space and his freedom to be with his friends.

I never asked to be entertained. I just want to be loved - and I want the world to know I'm loved. I would announce it from the rooftops, if I could = yes, Oddity is MY love! He's MINE!

yea, I know I'm possessive. sorta. :) He fell asleep, the shots catching up to him, cradled in my breasts. I held his head to my chest as he fell asleep, kissing his shaved pate, his arms around my waist. I love holding him. And it makes me feel indescribably wonderful when in his sleep he gathers me up to his chest, his arms around me, snoring into my cheek. Sometimes he'll kiss my forehead or my shoulder if my back is to him and he's wrapped around me.

I'm always happy to hear from him. I hope this doesn't alarm him, the way I am. This is how I love. At this age, fuck it. I won't tone it down. This is me.

Sunday I went to see my youngest; she lost her job. She was so distressed and upset - I cried with her but hopefully she remembers what I told her - this is something better to happen while she's here and learn to cope with it rather than when it actually makes a difference and her entire world would collapse. I've been there. So have many of my friends. We've lost so much over the years...

I woke up at 2:30am and finally just got out of bed at 4am 'cause I simply was NOT sleepy. It's 3:10pm now and my eyes sting, but it's from the contacts and not from lack of sleep.

I know it will catch up with me. I hope I get a chance to read myspace tonight when I get home, but I'll probably be so dead I'll just crawl into bed and tell Capt A to make his own breakfast 'n lunch. But we'll see.