My loft doesn't. It is in the SoMa (South of Market for any non-++++++ out there). Dexter just smiled. It made me happy.

I feel fucking pharmacied out. I really am a slave to the pharmaceutical industry. Pfizer, Watson, Eli Lilly, Sidmak, MSD, Parke-Davis... they all fuckin' trap me, Janssen and Ethex trap me the worst. I'm getting off the fentanyl - the Duragesic patches. I was on 150 micrograms/hr two weeks ago. Today I dropped from 50 to 25. I have three days left of fentanyl addiction. I'm doing my best not to trade it for a Diluadid addiction. I still need something when things get horribly painful and all the non-narcotic pain medications aren't sufficient.

Enough about drugs, but you know. It's difficult. I've done the kicking drugs thing a bunch of times before, and this is by far the best one of them. I have the heaviest addiction too. These patches are all the time, heavy narcotic - stronger than heroin pharmaceuticals. But I'm doing just what the doc says, and I'm taking way less panic meds than before too. I'm not such a zombie all the time. But I still feel a bit dopesick from the fentanyl. I'll be done soon god damnit.

I want to be normal.

Dexter wants to be normal even more than me. And he can't understand that he's so much better than normal.

SO

This relationship is the first adult relationship I've had. Scott was close. But I feel sometimes like I have to take care of Dexter. He has a lot of problems, but I do too. And we support each other. He takes care of me too. He is so self-conscious, and it actually hurts so much. Hurts me. Hurts him. He can't leave the house sometiems. As mature as he is, he does act his age sometimes. And I just pray his self-consciousness is a juvenile problem he will grow out of. But I'm sure he says the same shit about all my problems.

I love him.

In a new way. In a different way. I'm never going to dump him. No matter how many times he looks in the mirror and comes away crying. I hold him.

I tell him every day how much I love him. And some days he institutes a no touch rule. And I do it. And I don't have sex much. That's personal - not getting into it online.

BUT I DON'T CARE! I DON'T FUCKING CARE....

I love all hit pitfalls. I love all his insecurities. I love his looks, his attitude. I love how fucking hot he is and how unhot he thinks he is. I love his acceptance of my armpit fetish. I know that's way too much information, but it's my fucking diary - so fuck off.

He has inspired in me a respect for tasteful furniture. I pay for everything, but he has superb, stellar taste. We are going for danish modern. I've shelled out nearly 2 grand on furniture, but I don't regret a fucking thing. I love it all. I love the flat; I love the man I'm living in it with. Like no one I have ever loved (which is a small list to begin with).

It is stressful, you know, living with a person and being in love. I love the feeling of being married. I'm twenty, but I know it's what I will always want. This security. But I think Dexter feels trapped sometimes. Especially considering how much I'm supporting him financially. I try not to tell him. But if I don't give him lunch money he won't eat. And I care so much about him. But it's a fine line to walk: I'm not his parent. He is sixteen. He is in love with me, and I am in love with him.

I feel a bit like everyone thinks I'm sick. But I'm not. He is an adult. As adult as anyone else I'm friends with. And he's been through enough to be an adult. I just wonder about me. I mean, he tells me he feels like he takes care of me. But it's hard for me to reconcile that with the obvious financial aid I give to him. He rarely asks for it. But I give it. I give up a lot for him. And I'm not talking about money. And I give it all freely. He does likewise.

It is beautiful the lack of pressure we place on each other and feel.

Beautiful.

------------------------

I saw a man today. I hadn't seen him in 6 years. He was on the same corner as I saw him on 6 years ago. I didn't talk to him today. I saw the same lady that was his runner six years ago. Damn it seems like yesterday, and so long ago. Forever. That corner makes me have feelings. I don't feel much anymore, except when I'm with Dexter. I feel everything with him. And I love it. But this man, and the lady witht he dirty finger nails that runs for him. Nostalgia, mixed with bile, acid, and a ringing in my ears.

And I just walked on by and they never said a word. I didn't hear the words anyway. But I know them. I know them by heart, and I'll never forget them.

"Outfits, outfits. Looking? One-on-ones, blanca?, chiva?"

and I still dream...

and keep walking...

and I come home and Dexter is waiting, and he says 'I love you,' at exactly the same moment as I do. And I feel better than I've ever felt before.