Sometime before breakfast, I handed her a worn-out copy of Kissing Kate and explained that it was largely responsible for informing me of my own sexuality. I always tended to fall in love with older girls as a child, so I chalked up my feelings to admiration. After reading this book, I finally put a name to what I was feeling. It was also somewhat prophetic of my First Great Heartbreak.
She picked it up with only the slightest reluctance, and didn’t put it down all day.
A gesture to rival a dozen roses, in my opinion.
* * * *
A few people, hearing that I am bipolar, have asked us how we stay together. A large part of it is circumstances, it’s true. But I think it’s our dynamic. I’ve asked her if we can talk about it together on some platform, because I’ve never come across a couple that does that – the views are just one-sided.
She’s not that into the idea. But we’ll see.
In several hours we’re going to ride a bus to the beach. We’re gonna be roughing it, basically. I told her we will inevitably fight.
It’s going to be great.