11-21-02 - 7:21 p.m.
i spent the day with patrick in a dusty valley hellhole, the kind with one main street and a water tower proudly emblazoned with the town's name. he was readying a house for close of escrow. after wandering the empty rooms and walking the new carpet in my bare feet, i cleaned two bathrooms and the kitchen. we worked together like an old married couple, comfortable in our silence, passing each other in the hall, pausing occasionally for a kiss. at the end of the day i settled on the floor of the living room and mentally arranged imaginary furniture and paintings and christmas trees.
i'm too tired, he said, but he wasn't, and we did it, in the empty house, on the new carpet, rolling around like fervent, foolish teenagers. it was good, the way it always is with patrick, and never is with anyone else. afterward he drove to the main street, one small block merrily strung with christmas lights, and parked the truck.
let's stroll like a real couple, he said, and we did, holding hands.