"universe is not spherical, but go with me on this"

It never rains but it pours.  I have like seventeen posts that want to come out of my fingers, with varying levels of intimate details.  I'm going to try for the midpoint, vague but comprehensive.

I'm sooo tired.  I was too anxious to really register the travel on the way up, but on the way home it seemed to take 14 sweaty hours, and I was barely upright by the time I got to the Davis T station.   I'm sure this wasn't helped by beginning the leave taking with a sobbing fit, but I think the trigger got sorted out or if not sorted, it's at least now a thing I can brace for, and now I've added a ferry to the long list of kinds of public transit I've cried on (someday, I will collect them all).  And next time, I'll also remember to strike a better balance between not wanting to need to pee while in transit and being severely dehydrated. And Light's back is out, and he assured me that me being around for the weekend wouldn't have changed anything, but it's really hard to believe that.

I had a time so good I can't actually find adequate adjectives.  There was a first kiss, in a car at a bus station, and promptly followed by a lot of first other things.   Months back, I had declared there would need to be signs and portents before dating was on the table.  So upon arriving, he promptly provided me with a stuffed animal that satisfied all of them.  And then the rest is a blur of orgasms, conversations and showing each other various sorts of media. 
 

There were some hard things punctuated by amazing nakedtimes, and then some remarkably easy things, also punctuated by amazing nakedtimes.  I've learned more about how I want to be handled. I got a chance to realize that I really have managed to internalize something Light's been saying for years. 

I want to not be sad about leaving, because I can for real believe that he's going to keep coming back/I'm going to get to come back.  (he had this lovely reframe about not leaving, just relocating, when I was trying not cry about leaving.)  I'm trying to remember it's okay that words don't mean the same thing to me that they do to other people.  I can't yet map his denotations, much less his connotations, I may never be able to, all I can do is try to find the words that make me squirm uncomfortably, make me feel dismissed, and tell him. I'm trying not to sink the boat out of fear, but I'm also trying to listen to the afraid voice and hear what she has to say, because in the end, what I really truly want is for this to be sustainable and good for everyone involved.  
 

We fit together well, it wasn't anywhere near as hard as I expected to figure out where to put our hands.   There were some shivery moments of intimacy, and roasted brussels sprouts, and at one point, he decided to start reading me this huge book, which made me all giddy because it implies a future, and I'm pretty sure I have a domesticity kink and have had it forever, just haven't had the words for it.  And I smirk every time I look in the mirror, because even if they're supertacky, I kind of love hickeys. 
 

And now I'm home, to my wonderful husband and animals and house and my less wonderful job and housework.  And in a couple weeks I get to go back up and have new and different awesome times.  Well, not all new, there's a bunch of stuff I just want to do again. There's another post up in here, about an awesome conversation with Intention after a Redbird show, and things that aren't about Feste coming up in the immediate future.    But for now, I should probably get back to that less-than-wonderful job thing.