Yes, I'm Pretty Confident

Tim, Nicholas and I ate breakfast in Cowes; big breakfast, eggs, toast, sausages, baked beans, mushrooms, tomatoes. Coffee. Out in the sun, in a court yard, on a corner. It's just nice to taste the sea air, the salt on your lips, the freedom it promises, even if it is winter. Still, the sun was warm on my back.

We wandered around the shops, which all seem jam packed full of stuff. Landfill for the most part, to be truthful. We find the "collectibles" shop and peruse it for a time. There are several pieces of the pottery I collect, at good prices too, but lately I've decided not to collect any more. I have enough "stuff." besides, nothing lasts forever and you are just setting yourself up for disappointment when some of it breaks. It seems just as fulfilling to gaze at it in the shop cabinet.

We drive back in the sunshine, with the breath-taking water views as a back drop, well, at least for the first part. You know, that lovely silvery shinny water stretching off into the never never, off to the far horizon, flat out all the way to forever. We slip through the crisp country air towards home, some music playing, quiet as boys are. Nicholas favours classic rock, Tim is quiet in the back seat, for the most part.

I have to admit, I thought about Sam the whole time I was away.

I get home to a quiet house, just me and Missy. I catch my breath. It’s nice to have some alone time. You know how much I like alone time. I have lunch with Sam most days, I see him several nights per week. He has slept over more than any um, boyfriend I’ve had in the last ten years. He's getting more of my time than Manny, Josh or Maurice combined, every did, and I don't mind for a millisecond. But, it's also nice to miss him, too. Have some space to appreciate him.

Luke has left some pot in the mull bowl, when I get home, so I roll a joint and smoke it. The first pot for the weekend.

I type my journals.

Sam texts. I say I’m home, come over. He says he’s coming over. I light a fire and think life doesn’t get much better. I shake my head and laugh. It’s a battle to fight ones natural cynicism and to let go of that alone time amour.

I feel shocking, to tell you the truth. I know I have oesophagi's, I know it flares up when I smoke. I’m in pain, how stupid do you say I am?

I so have to stop tomorrow.

The cigarettes are on the kitchen bench and the mull bowl is still on the coffee table. Sam sees them straight away. He points to both and looks at me in amazement.

I hug him and kiss him and tell him that I predict that I'm still in the good books, despite it.

He replies, You're pretty confident.

I hug him tight and say, Yes, I am pretty confident.

He laughs like he's heard it all.

I tell him to tell me that I'm wrong.

He smiles and leans in and kisses me gently on the mouth.

The adorable boy and I cuddle up. We have the house to ourselves. He’s quite simply gorgeous. I gaze at him and feel ever so happy.