10-21-02 - 8:31 a.m.
lately, distraught by the inevitable signs of aging, patrick has begun studying himself in the mirror, searching for the reason behind my enduring affection for him. like most of us, the idea of geriatric sex disgusted him when he was young, yet the mere act of bumping elbows becomes an erotic event and reduces the two of us to horny, hormonal teenagers. it can't be his money; i refuse to accept any. a freudian father thing? yeah, right. try to chastise or control me and i bolt. what the hell can it be? beside me in bed, in unguarded moments, he puzzles over the attraction and the chemistry and as he speaks, just the sight of his tanned and weathered face, beautiful in its sheer wisdom alone, answers all his questions for me. i can only imagine the luxury of taking that face for granted.