Surprise sleepover with the Special Guy last night. He was totally not in the Plan. The Plan was inspired in part by a book by Molly Peacock called Paradise Piece by Piece. Basically the book is a meditation on finding happiness and fulfilment as a heterosexual woman who never had children. I resolved that as a gay man, I would find my own paradise, piece by piece, being single, without a relationship. Flying solo.

I got into my last relationship (seven and a half years, basically the bulk of my thirties) largely due to logistical concerns: it's easier to manage a house or apartment with two people dividing the labor as opposed to one; with two incomes, there are more options available to you; you don't have to scare up someone to see a movie with. To be honest, a large part of what drove this decision was despair. Not deep, dark despair. More like the realization that you're probably not going to win the $35 million Lotto, so you'd better not resign from your job. More, "Oh, well." Essentially, it was, "Oh well, it's unlikely that I'd meet a man that combines all of the qualities I'm looking for." And then I did. On June 16th, 2002.

The more time we spend together, the more deeply I desire him. I feel like we've invented love. That no one has ever felt this way before. Now I know what all those Shakespearean heroes and heroines in the romance plays are always going on about.

Two days until the Vin Diesel movie opens. I'll be there.