Phillip moved in with us a few days ago. Earlier than I’d expected… I’d thought he was moving in at the end of the month.
His bedroom isn’t even completely ready yet, and he’s got a new bed on order which has not yet arrived. So he’s sleeping in the guest bedroom for now, which is right next to mine.
I found out there is a sort of slit in my bedroom wall where the air vent is, through which I can see light from the guest room when the light is on. I’d never noticed before as that room has been vacant and never lit the entire time we’ve been in this house. It also passes sound between rooms very easily. Even with both doors closed, I can hear Phillip handling his medication bottles, and also his snoring. It doesn’t bother me — I have earplugs I can wear — but I feel like I can’t watch TV in my room at night, even at a very low volume, because it might keep him awake. He’s a junior architect and has to get up for work early in the morning.
I can’t wait for his room to be ready. It’s the front (master) bedroom across the hall. I’ve already experimented and found that sound from my room doesn’t carry into there so easily.
The other day I found an old friend and sometimes sex buddy, Jeff N., on Facebook under an assumed name. (I’m one clever detective!) I sent him a private message, plus a friend request, only to find out, to my dismay, that he doesn’t remember me at all. I sent him a photo of me from my surprise 22nd birthday party, and he still doesn’t remember. I was quite miffed because he was at that party, had helped set it up, and had even decorated my cake!
He says he doesn’t remember much at all “from that time period”. I wonder what’s up with that. I don’t recall him being on drugs or anything in those days.
We had hung out together off and on for a year and a half, during which time I pursued him, totally in vain. He’d said he just wanted to be friends, didn’t want a relationship with me. Of course he didn’t mind fucking me now and then. I was good enough for that, but not to be in a relationship with, apparently. Hmmmph.
He was the first guy I was with who was my idea of a real man. He was in his early 30s in those days. He’s 67 now.
I must be the most forgettable person in the Universe, apparently. Oh well, life happens.
James has all but disappeared. I haven’t even seen him in three weeks, although a few days ago I thought I spotted him out the window while riding the bus. But I wasn’t sure it was him, and my poor distance vision was no help, of course.
Still dodgy. And I think he’s homophobic. I feel like publicly shaming him over it.