6:42 p.m. - September 24, 2005
A3 is on his way, laden with groceries he refuses to divulge, though I insisted on some variety of bread be in that bag when he arrives. Yes, I've invited him over again, a simple act I've extended to Aundrea, Dana, Spec, Ryans I-II, and A3 in the 6 years I've lived here. He respects my space and he respects me, asks if he can touch me. He asks, and I don't freeze when he moves close. These are such simple, small notions but my bedrock is shaking.
I will not worry about where or how or why events are unfolding as they are. I will not beat myself up for being unattractive, will not wonder if I am receiving charity. Fuck that - I'm a nice guy and I deserve a lil' bit o' something good.
Something I thought about this morning: Spec was insecure about being a man and elevated every action or thought to some hyper-masculine ideal. A3 is quite simply a man
and he's here
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