The Giant came over last night when he got off work and we stayed up ridiculously late laughing and talking and making out. I’m still not sure where this train is going, but dammit, he’s cozy. He’s also a giant which makes me feel delightfully feminine and tiny and dainty. Yes, DAINTY! It’s a bizarre feeling but just… cozy. I can’t really think of a better way to describe it. I don’t think we went to bed until after three in the morning and even then, we spent a while still cuddling and kissing, me nuzzling on his fuzzy chin.
Making out is important — unbelievably important. I get grossed out when my parents tongue kiss in my presence, but it’s so fucking awesome, really. I mean, they’ve been married… what? For, um 33 years? I think that’s right.
But to be together that long and still enjoy making out? I think it’s probably less rare than it seems. At least, I hope so. I want to be old and still long for kisses and gentle touches from my partner.
But I’m warp-speeding, a bit I think. I like the Giant. This much is clear in my head. That’s all I’ve got for now. It seems that there are a lot of factors working against the possibility of a relationship, namely being that we’re on opposite schedules and are about to be an hour+ away from each other, when I move. I’m just pushing those thoughts out of my head to make space for the lingering thoughts of his fingers tracing the backs of my arms and moving my hair from my eyes. That is a much more pleasant thought than a hundred mile round trip.
We slept in late this morning. He woke up before me and said that I was all curled up next to him, like a ball. I think I was still sleeping on his arm, in the crook of his armpit (one of my most favorite places). I took him to my favorite restaurant and we ate and talked and I’m thinking in my head, “This is like… the third time we’ve hung out. I mean, really? It feels like more than that.” I told him that I felt like we had probably known each other in another life and he laughed this big, thick-chested man-laugh. I don’t often get close — like really close — to many people and really, I feel drawn toward even less people. But there’s something about him that just reminds me of something… Gives me comfort… I can’t put my finger on it yet and so I’m shoving my fists into my pockets and being content in my heart to ride around the city with the windows down and his hand on my knee.