I just spent the last four days straight with P. It was amazingly fun and relaxing. We don't usually spend so much consecutive time together, probably because some part of me was a little bit afraid of the tension that can go along with being with someone 24 hours per day, but mostly because we're both kind of busy. We've been painting his new place and it's all coming together quite nicely.
I love how we can be in the same room, painting and not talking. I love not talking with him. I love how he lets me be in my head a little, but he always makes contact with me: a brush on the back here, a kiss on the forehead there. We're constantly touching each other, which is something I never really thought I would do. Fear was always holding me back, but now, contact is warmth and love.
I must admit, I was a little bit worried about our 'not talking'. I worried that our relationship was not communicative enough and that I was holding back or avoiding debatable topics to keep everything smooth. Last night we went to see a great film, 'J'ai tué ma mère', and we proceeded to have a great post-film discussion with L and her friends about our impressions of the film. P was saying that the most important part of a great film, and often what makes it a 'classic', is the seed of the film, the idea, or the story. I was arguing that although the nucleus of the film is important, what matters most is the way in which this idea is executed, the visuals, the style, the merging of form and content. We sort of agreed, but we were mostly disagreeing, all the while laughing and giving each other googly eyes. Later that evening he said, 'bebe, you're such a hard arguer', and it sort of made me happy. I was happy that we were having a discussion, a debate, about something we really believed in but we were still totally listening and trying to understand the other without getting defensive. He doesn't inspire defensiveness in me at all, which is really refreshing.
It's cool how, with P, my instinct is to go with the flow, not spill all my beans at once (which used to be my style: 'bombard them with information and see if they'll stick around') and deal with each neurotic drama one at a time. It feels really good to have one's natural instincts 'accepted' (that seems like the wrong word, but you know what I mean).
On Sunday after the movie, we bought ice cream as a snack. In the van, on our way home, P decided to surprise me and bring me to the top of the mountain. The lights, the view, ah! It was so romantic... Okay, okay, I'll stop before I start gushing.
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