Well, my New Year was quite happy. I spent all Sunday lounging in bed with Steven. Sure, we smelled like sex, alcohol, and freshening cloths, but it was such a beautiful moment. The only times he left the bed was to bring us toothpaste and toothbrushes, me orange juice, and to pay for our ordered-in Chinese. And the only time I left was to use the bathroom. We even had a chopstick duel that lasted a good ten minutes, with me winning by snapping his chopsticks into fours, to which he exclaimed, "Damn bamboo!" After we were fully fed, sexed, and freshned, we watched On Demand programming, which was both fun (the Cathouse series on HBO) and gross (The Discovery Channel's Medical Incredibles series, where a woman's skin fell off.) Then we talked about our New Year's resolutions. He wants to buy a new car. I, on the otherhand, want to stop buying stuff. "I'd like to be sensible."
He finally went home around eleven, it was then I changed my sheets and took an hour-long shower, where I washed 2005 down the drain. And when I went to bed, everything felt so good. And I caught a whiff of his cologne on my pillow and it made me re-think my relationship hating stance for a while, until I dozed off. And I dreamed of happiness.
He finally went home around eleven, it was then I changed my sheets and took an hour-long shower, where I washed 2005 down the drain. And when I went to bed, everything felt so good. And I caught a whiff of his cologne on my pillow and it made me re-think my relationship hating stance for a while, until I dozed off. And I dreamed of happiness.