I was awake just after Shane crashed the front door closed, you know, as he does every morning. Then I waited for his car to start up and for him to crunch the gearbox into reverse, you know, as he does every morning. I'm not sure why he doesn't hear it, it would worry me if my reverse gear was crunching every time I selected it. It is funny how some people are just noisy and loud crashing through life, maybe without a care. Possibly. Shane is noisy with nearly everything he does - on the stairs, in the kitchen, with his laugh. I know people who hate his laugh with a passion and yet, I think, he thinks it is one of his endearing traits. I reckon it is a basic inferiority complex and consciously or unconsciously they are saying, look at me, look at me, oh please god look at me. Empty vessels make the most noise and all of that.
I slipped out of bed, not long after. I got all of my things together quietly tip toeing around the bedroom and headed for the door, leaving Sam to sleep. I try to write my journal in the still quiet hours of the morning.
He is so cute there asleep on the pillow. His face looks so serene. I always stop for a moment, laptop and cords and mouse and phone and socks and glasses all precariously balanced in my hand, the other hand on the door handle and gaze at him for a moment. That fleeting private moment. So lovely is my boyfriend. Really lovely.
The sun was shining when I headed down stairs. The cute boy up the lane was leaning shirtless out his window talking to someone below in the lane way. He is breathtakingly good looking and he had that kind of smile on his face as though he was really keen on whomever it was he was talking to. So I was picturing the bottom half of him only dressed in patterned jocks, rubbing his half a mongrel on a piece of occasional furniture, as he talked. Hot! He saw me pretty quickly looking at him through the window on the stairs, so I had to look away and keep walking as though I wasn’t looking at him at all. I felt like I’d been caught perving in through his bedroom window late at night.
Today was to be the day we started our bike riding in earnest. Time to make up for lost days, time to do some serious exercise so we can continue eating cream pasta sauces we cook up at night with abandon. Funny thing that, it was sunny when I was upstairs, but as soon as I came down stairs the sunny sky clouded over and the day turned dim and grey.
I made coffee and drank it gazing at my computer screen. Pretty soon Sam came downstairs asking where his coffee was, curling over his bottom lip at the suggestion that I’d drunk all the coffee and there was none left for him.
“Boo hoo! What about me?”
He’s adorable when he does that. Of course, I think he is adorable when he does just about any thing. True.
The first thing he does is look out the window and says, “Oh well, it looks like we’re not going bike riding.”
So, I cook up a mountain of peanut butter toast and fruit loaf and we settle in for the morning.
Fat boyfriends are happy boyfriends, after all.
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