stay with me, let's just breathe

K is home from Holland and we spent New Year's Eve in the airport waiting for his plane to land. Now he's ours for a little while on the karma payment plan. K is Shawn's friend and I'm only on the edge of understanding him. I like his Dutch accent; I like the way he looks at me like he thinks I'm lying. I haven't lied to him about anything though. I don't really do that. He's lived in Canada for ten years but he still seems very European. Maybe he's just preparing to go back.

J used to sleep all the time when he lived here after his wife left. This morning when I awoke at 7:00, K had already made coffee. I sat at the kitchen table with him, still in my pajamas, and while Shawn and the dogs slept, we talked about why this isn't going to work, why we can't really live together. Based on early impressions.

I thought hard and selected the fact that I didn't like the way he had pointed at the menu while he was ordering his drinks last night, as though the waitress should be able to read his finger. He said he hadn't cared for the way I drove the car home with the heat on and the window open at the same time, which proves his limited capacity for sensation. We're off to a rocky start. He said we could talk about what we did like so far, but I didn't want to hear anything nice yet. It's too early for compliments.



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