I’m a talker about most things. Like every other human being on the planet, I share my opinions when and where I can. Usually online to people I will likely never meet. Isn’t that the safest way? Say your peace, close the laptop and move on to the next gripe. That’s an issue for another post. Let’s stay on track.
The last three months I have been staying in Baltimore with Baltimore. Maybe giving someone a nickname to match their city wasn’t the best idea. Alas, this is not a move in my mind. The idea came from wanting to maximize my condo in Puerto Rico and revenue from AirB&B. It’s much more difficult to rent a single room versus an entire apartment. Thus, Baltimore and I hatched the idea of me coming to Baltimore for an extended stay. Note, I’m writing this from the dining room table in Puerto Rico! I will be returning to Baltimore (city and person) in a few weeks for another three month stay.
This still doesn’t answer the question(s) I am attempting to jot down. See, my friends are a bit baffled by my sudden shift in relationship status. To go from extended single to semi-living-couple-person is rather unusual. I have to agree. If we add one more cat to the household we may actually qualify as lesbians. I’m aiming for a dog, two cats is enough…especially when they’re both huge assholes. Our lestastic status will have to wait.
The question I’m asked on repeat, “How’s it going living with Baltimore?” I always respond promptly that we are not living together. Though odd, it’s a status I’m not comfortable with at the moment. How is coexisting in the same space for extended amounts of time? [Do you like how we get around the phrasing ‘living together’?] It’s actually not bad. I, like most people who know me, thought it would be an all out war for control of the house. It’s rather calm and boring in actuality. To me, it’s really Baltimore’s house and I’m a guest. This means the crazy part of my brain isn’t triggering. Do I like where a chair, plate, plant, etc. are placed? Maybe not, but it truly doesn’t matter. I have my own home, own stuff and own rules. He can set whatever rules he likes in his home.
I know, I know, where’s the dirt? Sadly, I have to admit there’s none. I may actually need to begin commentating on other people. Baltimore and I are both lame enough that we don’t really fight or argue. Unless he pulls the wrong thread, I’m still pissy at the end of the day and happy to rip a head off. Baltimore rolls with the punches, and it’s out of character for most gay men [I know]. He doesn’t antagonize, and without this common feature [I’m guilty of performing] there’s really no drama.
At the moment I can say we are floating on placid seas. For now…