But underneath, we continue down the same paths. Make no mistake about it. But I guess, at this point, the tunnels being formed are starting to be rounded out and supported. They are no longer splinter trails hesitantly formed in separating directions, but full-fledged routes with depth and purpose and intent, distinctly different purposes from the unified path that we have for so long formed, starting to develop.
And now, rather than sniffs of indifference, or reckless outbursts of irritation, or howls of protest, we acknowledge our recognition of these trails with silence. Small conversations. Possibly acceptance.
I have continued my correspondence with Jacques. I honestly don't think anything will come of it. But it is fun to talk to this guy. Such a great style of speech. And so much openness, so much sunshine, it makes me want to smile just reading it. "Hey Mitch mon, I love this current of eager energy flowing between us...it sounds as if we're livin parallel lives!"
Well, I don't know how much of a parallel to draw. Birth order, number of kids in his family, yes. He's very sensitive--oh yeah, that's me all over. But he seems to have been accustomed to a certain lifestyle of affluence (not that there's anything wrong with that), he's Haitian, I imagine he towers over me...his letters are fascinating. I hope that we will continue this, although I did tell him the entire story last night. Don't know how he'll react. We'll see what happens next.
And Josie and I have plotted our next adventure. We called our friend Al the Pal Saturday in the afternoon and spoke with him, together and separately, for about an hour. I wanted to make love to her while she spoke to him, but Josie would have none of that. We are supposed to visit him at his apartment Thursday night. We'll see what happens. I do love triangulating, but have some...nagging concerns about this one. Hope Josie's not planning to do me in, or anything. If any LJ friends catch wind of that, please write me and let me know!
"Out of the rolling ocean the crowd came a drop gently to me,
Whispering I love you, before long I die,
I have travel'd a long way merely to look on you to touch you.
For I could not die till I once look'd on you,
For I fear's I might afterward lose you."