Sunday, June 7, 1992

11:30 am

I can't even lie down in bed without my thoughts turning to Bob. And tears coming to my eyes. I think of the time we spent together. I think of the time we'll be apart. No matter what, I start to cry. I can't believe how wonderful these past two weeks were. How wonderful it was to be totally in love. I guess it showed, too. Annelies's sister, Heleen, told us that it was so nice to see two people who really care about each other. Last night we talked about the future. We agreed that it's impossible to make any definite plans right now, but that we could see us together at some point. The question is when. Where. How. He'll pursue the idea of coming to Málaga to study for 3 - 4 months. That would be so nice. So this was "a beginning" as he put it. Who knows where things will lead us? I just know that it'll be hard for him to break away from the comfortable niche he's carved out for himself. Twenty-five suits. Shirts at the cleaners. A cozy home. A well-paying and well-respected position. At least I feel we've been totally honest with one another. I really enjoy sharing things with him. To be vulnerable with someone. To be able to cry with someone. I cried a lot last night. The past two nights we had dinner at home and stayed in. We had planned to do the town Friday. I would have liked to show him the center. But we laid down "for a minute" after dinner and didn't get out of bed. It was a wonderful time together. On Thursday, we went to Torremolinos. Had dinner at a surprisingly romantic outdoor restaurant and went to several sparsely-populated gay bars. We enjoyed it, though. We had great sex that night. I think I felt more comfortable with him after our talk Wednesday. More willing to be completely free with him. Where will we end up? Spain? Kentucky? Other country, city? It's these times when I want to "settle down." Go back to the States and live "the American dream." And then travel. I think I'd like to try Italy next. Maybe Greece. Jenny called Thursday. She's thinking of moving here in the fall. That would certainly be impetus for me to stay. Otherwise, I'm so unsure. I miss "back home" so much. I miss my friends, my way of life, my language! I need to find a place to live. I'm thinking (again) of living with French Frank. Or his co-worker, Eric. We saw him yesterday. Bob thinks he might be gay, too. I'll have to accept his offer to drop by for a beer. Neil Gibbs called me on Friday. It was so nice to hear his voice. I really miss him. Karen called, also. I love my friends! I said good-bye to Antonella yesterday. The last of the Alhambra gang. She said there's lots of mail for me at school. Yay! You know, I hate the way Bob always puts himself down. Saying he's not worthy of me. That he always takes much more than he gives. He calls it "spontaneous self-deprecation." I don't know where he gets it from. He has every right to be egotistical. He's handsome, he's got such a pleasant, warm, caring personality, he has friends and co-workers and family who love and respect him. He gives so much of himself to others. And he's still dealing with the loss of Ron. When we were in Mérida, he had a nightmare. In it, he had been talking to Ron on the phone and realized that Ron was no longer alive. He said he could hear his voice so clearly. He told me of another time when he dreamt he came home from work and Ron's car was gone. He looked frantically through the house for him, but he wasn't there. Bob was afraid he had had a problem and drove himself to the hospital. Then he heard Ron in the backyard talking with a neighbor. He rushed up to him and hugged him and said he was so glad to see him. Ron couldn't understand why Bob was so upset. Then Bob woke up. This happened a month after Ron died. I can't imagine the pain. We talked a lot about his interest in the Catholic church. He needs to find a purpose, a meaning. He asked me what I would think if he became a priest. I told him it would be a great loss for me and that I would think he's just searching for something. He'd make a great priest as a job, but not as a way of life. He doesn't even believe in God! He says he's going through these Catholic classes to learn more, not necessarily to accept all. He compares it to "quantum physics" where if you run into something you can't explain or don't understand, you kind of jump past it and go on to the next step. I like that. Quantum Religion. Speaking of which, we did the last First Communion yesterday. Yay! During the first mass, María Carmen dropped the camera from the second floor window. It fell on a boy, but he was okay. What a disaster. Shit. I'll be so glad to get those done. We have a wedding tonight. Not looking forward to it. Although the one we did last Sunday was pretty fun.