We said goodbye to the fancy hotel and and its pancakes, taking the affair back to my apartment. Bringing sex over the home threshold changed things quite a bit. After that one night in my home, we magically woke up in sweatpants with the desire to watch 'Lost' episodes. And for the first time in a while, I was into this hurried domesticity. Apparently, THE WIZARD was into it too, because that afternoon he cancelled his flight home... As in cancelled. Return flight TBD.
That's right, dear reader. What was supposed to be a casual romp became a human being living in my home for three weeks. And I liked it... Well, sort of.
The sex part was great, of course, simply because it was always there. We had sex several times a day. Food, sleep, and bathing were sacrificed for getting off in any way we could imagine. It was beautiful. Every fabric and surface in my home ought to be sanitized. But along with the sex, he was always there too. Suddenly I was cohabiting. And amidst all the boning, we talked. Personal details were spewed everywhere! By day 9, I was emotionally exhausted and officially freaking out about the level of intimacy. Sweatpants, television, childhood memories, personal politics...it was too much. So I did what I always do: I acted like a jerk.
I attempted to revert back to the root of this relationship. I had sex with him - the filthier the better - and shut down the intimate chats, cuddling, and excessive kissing sessions. He knew what I was doing, and just shook his head in disapproval at me when I'd roll over to 'my' side of the bed. It was around that time that I got food poisoning. There's nothing like emptying your insides to open your heart.
