Week 6 (Again)

After the stress fracture debacle I was reluctant to run too much on my wounded foot and after having had a really -bad- week 6 last week... I took the early part of the week off to whine about my foot and got in a couple more days of week 6 this week. The last couple runs were successful. Much less "oh my god, I'm going to die", more "Man this sucks", if you understand the subtle distinction. ^_~

It's been an odd week for me. Adam had to fly out to Colorado to tend to some Army stuff on Friday and he's not due back until this upcoming Wednesday. I came up Thursday afternoon after work (work from home rocks my socks off) in order to get a night's worth of cuddling in. He puttered around, getting his house tidied up and packing and all that and I can't remember what I was doing but he decided to go to bed and he said, "I'm going to bed. Don't be forever." which... and I know this is going to sound silly, but it was a "Oh, hey! He -wants- me to come to bed and snuggle with him!" moment. When he headed out the next morning, I asked if he'd mind if I stayed camped out at his apartment and got my work day done and he said sure, no problem.

Well I did that, successfully getting much work done and then I was faced with a decision. I wanted to sleep in the +5 Bed of Sleeping. It is a very good bed, very comfy, and smells strongly of him and me. But I wasn't sure how he'd feel about me -being- there without him. I felt really odd about it. Mama Elf suggested that really he wouldn't mind at all, but I fretted even as I crawled into the bed and settled down to a warm and good sleep. And the next day? I didn't want to go home.

I like my roommates well enough but with all of us home and the dog and various friends and significant others, the place gets cramped, and it has definitely never felt like home. I moved into it, intending it to be a short-term place, close to work, for a few months.. And now I'm going on nearly a year. I rent a room there and keep some stuff in the pantry and fridge, but I don't have a whole lot invested in the place. I spend a lot of time away from it and when I -am- there, I stick to my small room and don't stray outside it, anti-social as I am. The past few weeks I have spent more time at Adam's place than I have at my own and my little desk at work, wedged into the back of the warehouse, feels more like home. It's a very, very -small- world and when I woke up Saturday morning, the idea of driving a couple hours to return to it just... I really didn't want to. I wasn't depressed, but I wanted to hole up in a comfortable place and not talk to anyone. So I stayed at Adam's place, feeling an odd mix of comfortable and trespasser while I did a few hours of work, read a couple books, and scrubbed his kitchen stove, counters, and floor in some weird attempt to pay for my weekend's vacation away from my life.

And Sunday, I prepared to tell him I'd trespassed all over his territory, uninvited and unwelcome. I was braced for the worst when I told him, "Adam, I need to tell you something and I'm worried you're gonna be annoyed and irritated. I spent the weekend hanging out at your place. I know it was wildly inappropriate but I got a lot of work done and I cleaned your kitchen. Don't be mad."

"... are you mad?"
"Uh." he said. "Because you did some cleaning?"

He'd, no kidding, figured I'd spend the weekend at his place, even without him. Because even though he doesn't open his mouth and -talk- to me as much as I'd like, this guy actually knows me pretty well and has a general idea of how I'm going to react to something. And, it would probably do me some good to remember that he isn't me, he isn't as weird as I am, and he definitely doesn't react to things the way I do.

So here I am, snuggled up on the couch watching The Colour of Magic by Terry Pratchett, feeling relieved and welcome and loved, sniffling into my chicken soup.