Boobday: holidays

It’s the end of the year. I’m at Wolf’s mother’s place, the very place where I launched this blog just over three years ago, as a matter of fact. The weather is cold and I don’t want to go outside and my back is complaining about the long road trip and subsequent inactivity.

I took this photo at home, in the newly painted bedroom. It’s a dark colour, and rather more reminiscent of the London dungeon Jaime and I visited back in March than I’d intended, but it’s also about my favourite colour in the world so fuck it.

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Boobday: on closer reflection

I’ve been back home long enough that it feels normal again. Well, mostly. Having been in a place where the sun was nearly overhead, somehow it seems like at home it’s even lower than it was last year at this time. And the days are so short.

I don’t think I’ve talked much about my fatigue here. It’s an ongoing issue, like for years now. I don’t have a diagnosis of chronic fatigue syndrome, though I could probably get one if I wanted it; my doctor doesn’t disagree with it but he doesn’t find it helpful so he hasn’t branded me with it so far.

While I was away, I didn’t notice any unusual fatigue. Granted, I was on vacation and actually took things easy, but still, it stood out. At one point I wondered if I might actually be better. And then I got home, and after recovering from the exhaustion of long haul travel and jet lag, I feel like I still have the same fatigue problem as before. Curious but somewhat encouraging that it went away, if only briefly.

This photo was taken during my trip. There’s nothing green outside my window at home.

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Boobday: mile high 20

Hello all! I just got home the other day from a lengthy trip to visit Jaime. It was wonderful to spend time with him again after so long apart, but I’m now getting re-accustomed to my regular routine. And time zone. And hemisphere.

If anyone asks about my trip, I can tell them that the weather was good but it was rather disorienting to go to a country where the sun is too high and on the wrong side of the sky, and that it took even longer to get used to because half the days were cloudy. It’s been disorienting coming home too, with snow on the ground and what feels like 5:30 pm sunshine at 1:30.

But I won’t tell them how it’s both comforting and bittersweet to go from the care of one man I love to that of the other, in either direction. Or how, even though there’s been a net increase of love, I regret the fact that the competition for my time is a zero-sum game and I must always disappoint one of them.

These photos are from the outbound trip.

 

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