Category Archives: Friends and Inimies

Don’t have enemies. It’s not good for you. So, that’ll be just friends, then.

An Enjoyable Conversation

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“They are a bad omen”, he said.

“Oh, shit”, I replied, “I did wonder just after I had paid for them but they’re his favourite.  I thought you would know but are you sure?”

“Well, I’m pretty sure”, he said, uncertainly. “But I’m sure it will be fine”.

“I’m going to look on the internet”, I told him.  I needed it not to be true.

We both looked on the internet.

“There!”, I said triumphantly, “it says that they are for your true love”.

“Well, the site I have says that they are for forgiveness”.

“You’re full of shit, you know”, I laughed as I said this.  “Next time I’ll just look on the internet.  If there’s a problem I’ll show him the site I’m on”.

“I’m sure he will love them anyway”, he says.

And he did, which was all that counted.

But, phoning V was full of laughs.  At the end of it all, he doesn’t know everything but it was an enjoyable conversation.

Now we have Christmas and New Year together

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“…then we can spend the night together!”

The voice was hushed and, yet, excited.  Bless him.  Still there is the ‘not running’ thing.  See, that’s what I don’t quite get.  Again, it’s my mild autism coming into play, I guess.  Run!  Don’t Run!  Run!  Don’t Run!

‘Would you like to come to dinner with me and MM [his colleague with whom he goes to Tango lessons on a Monday night] or pick me up after the lesson?’, he asked earlier.

‘I can do both’, I reply – not telling him that every moment I spend out of his presence is a moment too long.

And so, last night, I got home and went almost straight away to pick him up from work.  The plan was that we would go for something to eat, he would go to Tango lessons with MM and then I would drive down about 10.30, pick him up from the lesson and we would go to his house.  I would have taken the dogs out before I left, of course.

The reality was a little different.  First, I went to his office and I quickly tried on a suit jacket – just to see if the standard size fitted me.  It was absolutely perfect!  I am so lucky like that.  He was pleased.  These are samples, made for the buyers.  They come in one size and, very fortunately, it’s my size.  And I mean, so my size it looked like it was tailored just for me.  He said that I could also use his discount as he’s not buying anything this year.  That’s an extra 50% off!

Then, because it was a little early to meet MM, we went for a beer.  We talked about A.  A was funny on Sunday because he felt he should get changed if we were to meet F, which in the end, we didn’t.  I said that F wouldn’t mind and it was fine.  A seemed nervous about meeting F.  F is also nervous about meeting A (and all my other friends).  I explained to F that everyone will love him because he makes me so happy!  This is true, I know.

We went to the restaurant/pizzeria.  MM was already there, on her first beer.  She drinks beer like an English person.  And smokes as much as I do.  I love her already.  We order and, she wants meat but they only do it for 2.  F asks if I will have that and I am pleased to do so.  The meat was perfect.

MM understands English quite well but doesn’t speak it at all.  The conversation is difficult to follow at times but I get most of it.  MM asks if F is going to Austria for Christmas.  He says that no, we are going to R’s birthday dinner and then we shall spend Christmas together.  He turns to me and says ‘Is that OK?’.  I smile and say ‘Of course, that’s OK’.  In my head I am already dancing on the table!

MM says that perhaps we should go to Vienna for New Year.  F thinks this is a good idea and says we could drive there.  It’s his birthday just after New Year.  It would be nice.  I say that this would be lovely but I have to sort out the dogs.  He understands.

We have another beer each at the restaurant and then go outside for a cigarette.  They talk about Tango.  The problem is that F (and MM) will miss the next two weeks.  MM suggests that, as they are supposed to pay this week, it seems quite mad that they are going anyway – missing so many lessons already.

They decide that they won’t go after all.  MM suggests going for a drink.  She lives not far from me.  We walk up towards Via Eustachi.  We go to Bar Aurore on Via Castelmorone.  This is one of the more famous bars in Milan.  Very old fashioned and, to me, it seems almost French in style.

We order beers.  We talk.  Occasionally we go outside for a cigarette.  I try to talk Italian with MM.  F smiles (almost laughs) as I am talking.  I stop and ask why he is laughing at me.  He explains (mainly to MM) that this is the first time he has heard me speak Italian, which is probably true and it’s not wrong just strange to him.

We have several more beers.  I go to the bathroom.  Afterwards, F explains that, whilst I was in the bathroom, MM had exclaimed ‘Why, F, you never told me he was gorgeous!  If he wasn’t gay I would be interested in him!’  I think this pleases him.  I like MM very much (apart from the beer drinking and smoking) – she is lovely.  I think she likes me too.  I think I’m doing OK!

I have to go and walk the dogs.  He says we should walk the dogs together.  I am happy about that, except that, when I rushed out, I left the cleaner doing the ironing and knew there would be ironing left all over the lounge, the bedroom with sheets not changed; I had no idea that he would come over tonight!

I try to explain that the house will be a mess and why it will be so.

We get home.  He loves the dogs although Dino is, as usual with someone new, over excited.  We take them out.  We get back.  We go to bed.  We talk.  I so love having him with me.  I just so love it.

Again he talks about going slowly.  I wonder at what point that will change.  He explains why (again) and I do understand.  But then there are the Christmas and New Year arrangements.  But these all come from him.  I cannot make suggestions (I feel) as I do not know how fast/slow such arrangement-making is!

This morning, I get up early but let him sleep in whilst I take the dogs out.  I go back and make coffee and then have a shower.  I explain how, next time, I will alter the arrangements and have a shower before coffee so that he can get up later.

Dino is over excited as normal.  He really likes Rufus, who is quiet and calm.  But I think he likes Dino also.  Dino will be calmer when he gets used to him.  I must remember to tell him that.

I drive him home.  He says that he can catch a bus.  I tell him that no way and, anyway, this is on my way to work.  He is ready to get out at Piazza Loretto but I say that I will drive him up to his house.  He says that the traffic will be bad for me.  I say it is far to early and it will be fine and point this out as we drive towards his place.  I am right.

I drop him off.  We kiss, briefly before he gets out of the car and blow kisses to each other as he walks to his building.  He says he will call me.

Now we have Christmas and New Year together.

I see him Monday night!

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He says he will show me on Monday. I guess it means that after a weekend ‘apart’ at night, Monday we may (will) be together :-)

Even if I can’t keep doing it, I shall, of course.

Being apart from him is hard. Even as I write this, I can smell him; feel him; want him.

>Need him? Not sure about that. There’s a thing about ‘need’ that is different. Not sure I’m there yet.

Of course, his world is very different from mine. He lives in the ‘fashion’ world. I said the other night that I knew nothing of that ‘world’ – he responded that it was a good thing that I knew nothing about it. Since many gay people here live in that world, I wonder if V is there too and if he is enjoying it. I hope so. I keep meaning to ask him but forget. Just like, yesterday, I forgot to ask if he had quit smoking, given his current health issues.

FfI asked today if F had seen pictures of V. I don’t remember if he has or not. I’m not sure why she asked. To me it’s not that important. F is not V and V is not F. I am with F and not with V, nor will I ever be with V again, in that way. I mean, if F wants to see a picture of V then OK. If not then fine.

Last night was the dinner with the ‘friends’, R and Al. Actually, they were really nice and easy to get on with. We went to a new restaurant and I forgot to pick up the card, so can’t really give you the details. The food was excellent although the service left a little to be desired. Still, starters and mains with 2 bottles of wine between 5 and sweets and the total per head was €30 per head so not so bad. I had a boar stew thing which was really lovely.

Then, AfL, F and I went to a bar for a drink. A friend of AfL’s was there. They chatted in Italian and, to be honest I didn’t get most of it…..sometimes I just switch off. However, F said something to AfL’s friend and I didn’t really understand (and he wouldn’t really explain) – the thing being “I cut your hands”. Those of you who are Italian, perhaps you can explain what it is. We don’t have that in the UK and although I asked F what it meant he just kept repeating it…….but I’m sure it had another meaning.

F asked what I was going to buy in Fox Town (where I go today with A). I said that I might buy a suit as I really need one. F suggested that, if I don’t see one, then I should try his place sometime this month where I will be able to get one at a huge discount. Showroom stock. I’m not sure about this particular designer – never been that keen but, I guess I should have a look. I think it will be classic stuff (for suits anyway) so it might be OK.

We talked about him meeting my friends. He said it would be embarrassing because I will have told them he is gorgeous and handsome and he is not – well, except to me. I suppose he has a point – sort of. Although, I don’t think I’ve actually said that to my friends – but I might have.

Apparently he didn’t say anything to his friends other than ‘I’m seeing this guy’. AfL said that I wasn’t like they expected – but as I don’t know what they expected, it’s difficult to know what that means! She added that I was nothing like S, his previous long-term partner – well, yes, I know that – and I’m certainly not in the fashion industry, nor camp, nor anything like your standard gay man – I guess.

Hopefully we shall be back early enough from Fox Town that we can go for something to eat/a drink with F and AfL – maybe with A as well – that will be the first of my friends, here, that he should meet – although ideally, he should meet Best Mate first, ‘cos she is Best Mate, after all!

AfL also wants us to go to London for a weekend. F said that the company had a flat in the city or near the city we could use. Sounds nice. Also R has his birthday on 24th December and holds a dinner that evening. F said he would be staying in Milan this Christmas and, so we can go. It’s all long(ish) term stuff. It gives me a warm and fuzzy feeling. And I can’t explain, well not in words that really explain, how I feel when I’m with him – how he makes me feel – how happy I am and I’m pretty sure he feels the same – I mean 99% sure.

Anyway, I see him Monday night!

Sardinian restaurant; V update and advice; my wine shop

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Italians, as I have said before and as you would expect, have a thing about food. And, unlike the UK, it’s all very regional – however, I live in Milan and, here, we have restaurants from all over Italy. Last night we went to a Sardinian restaurant (Baia Chia – Vai Bazzini, 37).

It has, mostly fish (I guess because Sardinia is an island) although there are a few meat dishes. However, I decided on grilled Sea Bass for the main course and some raw tuna mixed thing for antipasto – this I shared with F who had chosen some prawn thing.

I have to say it was all delightful. When they came with the Mirto at the end of the meal it was, truly, the best Mirto I’ve had.

Not a big restaurant but well worth a visit – even if it is a little off the beaten track.

F admired the jumper some woman was wearing and said he wanted it…….so, partly as a joke and partly because it’s me….I went over and found out where she had bought it and gave the info to F – he seemed pleased but it may have been just because I had the nerve to ask in the first place :-)

AfL was lovely. F paid for the whole meal which annoyed both of us – but what was done was done…….it just means I have to be better at spotting what he is doing.

We walked part of the way back together and then I left them and went home.

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Earlier, I had texted V to wish him well for Monday when he said he was going to go back to work. He said he wasn’t going back as he had had some results from the tests.

I phoned him. It seems he has a problem with some nerves in his wrist, which is why his arm keeps going numb and they have also found a problem with one of the valves in his heart!

I don’t know whether it’s serious or not. He would probably never tell me. We chatted for a bit, easily with many laughs.

I told him about the problem with the kid. He told me that, perhaps, I shouldn’t be my usual self and should be a bit more like him…..letting the guy down very, very gently. His opinion is that Italian men are about 10 years less mature than British men…..which would make the kid 20! Scary!!

I got him to promise that, in future, he would keep me up to date about his tests and health and joked that I would need to know so that I could come over and put post-it notes on the furniture I wanted!

He won’t keep me up to date, of course. I know him better than that.

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Later. I go to the wine shop. We are supposed to be going to his friends’ place for the meal tonight. I ask the guy for a really good bottle of dry white and a good bottle of sweet white. He has some expensive wines in the shop. By expensive I mean €60 plus. He points me to one costing €28 and says that is particularly good. More or less the same with the desert wine. It’s why I keep going back. And his choice is almost always perfect.

He tells me that he has some more Macallan 7-year-old whisky (I had bought for a colleague once) and would knock something off the price.

Really, this guy is good. Of course, it’s all in Italian and I don’t understand everything he says but I can rely on him. If you tell him exactly what food you’re going to eat he will pick the wine to accompany it. Love it.

Then F phones to say that we are now going to a restaurant anyway. Well, it’s not as if the wine will go off, so there’ll be another time.

The royal “we”?

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He calls. “Ciao Bambino”, he says.

He tells me that he has had lunch with the potential future landlady and has decided to take the flat. I tell him I am really pleased and hope he is pleased too. He says he is, although there is a hint in his voice that he is not. He signs the contract at the end of November.

“And we will be close to each other”, he says, excitedly, the smile in his voice apparent. Yes, we shall be 10 minutes walk away from each other. I don’t say so, but I think that is 10 minutes walk too far. But, for him, he needs this space. For me it is not necessary.

He is not dog sitting after all. The woman is not going away as her one son is ill. However, AfL is still supposed to be there “Unless she says she is going back to London”, he says. “I will phone you later and tell you where we are going with AfL”, he adds.

Now, in case you have missed the important choice of words, I will spell them out.

Before it has been he and AfL going somewhere and me tagging along. Now it is “us”, the royal “we” that are going somewhere and “we” are taking AfL out!

Of course, I must remember – “LOST IN TRANSLATION” – and, therefore, it may be of no significance, however, it’s nice to think like that, for me.

And this in spite of the post below!

I am learning but it seems a long lesson

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It was misty.  Not misty so that it made everything wet but a ‘high mist’ that just made the skies particularly grey and half-hid the tall tower blocks, like they had had a thin veil draped over them.  I hate this period – you know it only leads to winter and cold and wet and unpleasant and that you have to go through all that to get to February and March when things get brighter and warmer (and less dark).

The guy was sitting there with a piece of paper, seemingly engrossed with its contents.  I cannot tell you what he looked like nor how old he was.  I sensed he was not Italian and I cannot tell you why.  I was standing next to him, eyes bleary, the contact lenses grating on my eyes, which were watering anyway.  I really should have taken them out on previous nights – it’s not good to leave them in whilst you sleep.

I glanced at the page.  It looked like some sort of poem, almost.  There were 15 lines, I counted them.  And a post-it note on the bottom of the page, the page having been torn out of one of those exercise books.  This page being from one of those commonly used to do graphs.  The writing was capitalised and neat – but, still, Italian, which I find difficult to read anyway – and I was looking over his shoulder; and my eyes were not at their best – so I just counted the lines.  Actually it wasn’t that difficult although it took me a few moments to realise that.  They were grouped in sets of four lines, just like a poem.  The last group only being three and yet, in my half-awake state, I started counting from the top before realising it was four times four less one!  I felt slightly stupid, even if there were good reasons.  I was only on the metro for about 10 minutes but, in that time, he studied the page as if it were some long and difficult thing.  Even with my poor Italian, it would not have taken more than 1 minute to read – and so, why?

I guessed that, either he was learning Italian and knew less than me or that it was just a ploy so as not to look at anyone else.  The ploy I use is to keep my eyes looking at the floor being, as I am, dressed as if I’m going for an evening out; with hair that has obviously not been through a shower or, even, combed; with eyes that still have the traces of sleep and, because of the conjunctivitis (a result of not taking out my lenses in the previous 6 nights away) look like shit, the bags deep enough to put a weeks shopping in them.

Yes, I look like shit.  I am grateful, in some way, that F didn’t really wake up and that, when I kissed him goodbye about 10 minutes earlier, the room was dark and he could not see me.

I wish there was some way of getting home without having to see people – well, there is but to try and find somewhere to park and then drive home and look for somewhere to park again would probably double the time of my journey home – and I am already getting up almost an hour later than I should although F doesn’t realise this.

I decide that I can’t continue this much longer.  I’m just too old for it.  I need more sleep.

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I had told him that A wanted to go to the outlet on Sunday – for shoes.  He didn’t know where this outlet was.  He said it was dangerous as he spent money.  I thought of V.  And not in a good way.  The difference is that, although we are a couple, I am not responsible for him……yet!  And so there is none of the worry.  But, I wonder: would it be the same?  I’m not sure I could go there again and yet, it seems I attract and am attracted to these type of men.  Boh!

The outlet trip depends on what AfL wants to do and ensuring that we get back on time for the dog.

He asks if I would like to go out tomorrow (that is now today) when AfL arrives – almost certainly they will go out and he wants me to come – if I want to come, that is!  There really is no need to ask.  With or without AfL, I would be there. He will call me.

So, it will be every day that we shall see each other except, maybe, Sunday, when I will go to the outlet with A, whether F and AfL come or not.

I worry about how F and A will get on.  I want to explain to F that, although A can be a bit, shall we say, abrupt, he has a heart of gold and is, really, really, a nice guy.  I want A to like him anyway.  Which he will.  Or, at least, he will say he does; only now is he saying that he hopes F is easier to talk to than V, who he found a little difficult!  Who knew?

We cannot be late back (if F and AfL come) as F is dog sitting, remember?  And so he must be back for the dog.  Who sleeps on the bed – did I mention that?  F will be putting a sheet over the top of the bed to keep the dog from getting ‘dirt’ on the actual bedclothes.

I also have a problem.  I can’t talk about it yet.  I need to sort it out and then, maybe, I can talk about it.  I sometimes think a brain transplant would be an excellent idea!

But, last night was wonderful.  I had missed him so much and yet, I cannot continue like this.  It is wearing me out.  I’m not 30 years old now; it’s not my own business; there are too many difficulties.  It would be much easier if we lived together.

Today F goes to sort out his flat.  I wished him good luck this morning as I left.  This morning he didn’t tell me he was like porcelain.  Perhaps, because, last night, I called him on it, saying I had seen the smirk the other morning.  He grinned and said but he was like porcelain in the morning.  I said that, perhaps, it wasn’t quite true.  We hugged and kissed.

I am learning but it seems a long lesson.

From the first kiss, he was all mine

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From_the_first_kiss_he_was_all_mine

Well, here goes.  The meeting of the important people.

We spoke several times, on the phone, yesterday.

A came over and we went for a pizza at Time Out 2 in Via Eustachi.  A liked the pizzas and I was very pleased about that.  After all, he’s Italian and I really get so nervous about recommending anywhere to Italians.  The pizzas are cheap and, it being A, we ended up with one and a half pizzas each.  And a bottle of wine.  A said that he shouldn’t be drinking at all and was going to have just a glass of wine but they don’t do wine by the glass and he didn’t want the house wine (and I don’t really blame him as it’s not that good) so chose a bottle of wine – and then, instead of having a glass, had half the bottle.  I’m really a bad influence!

He’s going through a bit of a tough time at the moment.  We talked crap and about him and his F, about me and my F and so on.  It was a nice evening and, ever since that time when he was unexpectedly so supportive, I really have a lot of time for him.  In fact, here, in Italy, I would say he’s my best friend.  He doesn’t get along with everybody but that’s OK, my best friends aren’t your usual people – they suit me and that’s all that counts.

I rang F after I had taken the dogs for a walk but he was in the restaurant.  He phoned me back when he had finished and then phoned me again when he got back to his hotel.

We talked about Thursday.  He hopes to be back by about 8.  I will probably go over about 9.30, if that’s the case.  We shall see.

Then he asked that, if I had no plans for Saturday, we had been invited to go out with his ‘friends’ – the ones from the last post – and AfL.  Apparently they ‘really want to meet me’.  I bet they do!  I said, of course, that would be fine.  I joked that they would be wanting to ‘check me out'; ‘to see if I was good enough for their F’.

He got a little defensive but he knows it’s true.  It’s true of all friends, not just them.  My friends want to do the same.  They are intrigued by how someone can be so important in such a short time.  They want to see if the attraction is valid; see if they can detect the feelings are genuine.  I understand.

So, Saturday night will be important.  I said that I would be on my best behaviour, which I will.  I must select the right things to wear and be able to come up with good conversation.  I will use V’s technique – be interested in them and get them to talk about themselves – it works a treat.

I am so looking forward to tonight.  This will be our last night together until at least early next week.

A is still amazed by how I went about all this.  How I was so selective and treating it like a purchase or selection of something else.  That’s true except that, when it came down to it, F doesn’t have all the things I would have chosen; is not the perfect person, perhaps, but it just felt (and still feels), so right at the time.  From the first kiss onwards and ATN.

Yeah, from the first kiss, he was all mine!

Pathetic

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Friends are both good and bad.  They are good in that a) we need some, even if it’s only one and b) they support us in our time of need; but they can be bad in that a) we look to them for advice and they are not professionals and b) they may have their own agendas.

The trouble is that, in spite of their advice to us, it may not actually be in our best, long-term (or, even short-term) interest to follow that advice.

Sure I ask for advice but my friends know that, really, all they can offer me is advice and that I will do my own thing, whatever.  If it coincides with their advice then that’s fine, if it doesn’t then that’s fine too, even if, secretly, when/if it all goes pear-shaped, they can gloat that ‘I told you so’.

And, as a friend to others, I can give advice but, if it’s not taken I understand.  In the end, no one can really see inside another’s head and the talk that’s made is only one side and, worse, may not be all of the one side.

And, so, he has talked to his friends.  As a result something that should have happened won’t.  I mean to say, I knew it wouldn’t happen anyway but now it most certainly won’t happen.  And this is because of his friends’ advice.  I know who they are even if I don’t know them, if you see what I mean.  I guess I will meet them soon.

The worst friends are gay friends.  They always think they know best.  But they almost certainly have another agenda – their own agenda which, in my past experience seems to be – we don’t want you to be as happy as us.  This is made worse by the fact that what most of them seek they rarely find and so they remain unhappy – whoever coined the word ‘gay’ for homosexuals was having some sort of laugh!

Everyone of them wants the ‘thing’ but won’t work at it to make it happen.  It just so fucking annoys me.  What the hell do they expect?

I will, when I meet them, be charming and polite and ‘like’ them, even if I don’t.  Of course, perhaps it’s not them……but I’m pretty sure it is.

Last night, after almost a week of spending each night together, we slept in our own homes.  This was good but bad.  I miss him.  I miss being able to snuggle up to him; to wake in the morning and kiss him and hold him.  It seemed to take me ages to get to sleep and I so wanted to be with him.  But, for once, I was strong in the evening too, which is good.

We spoke.  He asked when we would see each other.  I said I didn’t know but not tomorrow (that will be tonight as I post this as, his trip delayed by one day, he is away tonight).  He said he knew that (as it was obvious) – then he said ‘What about Thursday?  We could see each other on Thursday’.  I said OK.  Then he said that he had to be home Thursday to pick up the dog and AfL will be coming on Friday.  He then said that, perhaps, we could go out for a beer or a pizza on Friday as well (you see what I mean about wanting to see me every day?).  I said that we would see, but that yes, that seemed fine.

I am holding back.  I am frightened.

I am pathetic.

In the mornings I am stronger

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I say the words.  I knew I shouldn’t.  It’s not the first time but, this time, he replies.  Before, he hasn’t, even if he did hear them, although sometimes I just say them when I know he is asleep.

Now he says that I scare him.  Of course, I don’t really understand and have to ask.  We have a conversation.  This is not the best time but the only ‘right’ time to have this conversation.

We have a different point of view.  We knew this from the beginning.  He says that he is scared for me not scared for himself.  I think he is scared for himself.  Even now, as I write this, in the morning.

But, then, I try to explain that I’m not always there, in spite of the fact that he says I am.  He had rung earlier to ask if I fancied going for an aperitivo but I had already made arrangements to meet K and (not his wife, after all) girlfriend M.  I said he could join us if he wanted.  But it was in the centre of town.  He didn’t want to.  I didn’t expect him to.

We said we would talk later.  Actually, K&M wanted to eat so we went for a pizza at the usual place in Piazza Santo Stefano, just off the centre.  Not massively expensive and OK.  Better than the tourist crap that is close to the centre or the really expensive restaurants that are good ….. but expensive.

I texted and asked if I could go round.  He said yes but we would have to go to bed (for sleep).  I said OK as that was what I wanted as well.

But, instead, we talked.  OK these things needed saying.  We still don’t really understand each other, I know that and yet…….

The mornings are best for me and worst for me.  It’s as if, after I have rested for some hours, I think differently, clearly.  Yesterday, as an example, in the morning I was certain that I would not see him.  I needed sleep.  Then, as the day wore on, I worked out how to get the sleep without missing out on seeing him.  Then it changed when K phoned, late in the afternoon but by then I had already set everything up in my mind to see him and I missed him and so, instead of sleep, I got to see him and hold him and we had ‘the talk’.

And, when I was there I wasn’t so tired.  And now I feel like crap.  And, as I was walking home, I knew he was right and I decided wouldn’t see him on Wednesday when he comes back.  I would spend the evening at home, with the dogs, go to sleep early and get some real rest (I am out either at the cinema or for a meal tonight).

And I knew that I would do that and I kept telling myself to be strong and not to give in; not become weak.

But it’s two days and one night away.  If he asks on Wednesday night I will fail; I will give in; I will succumb to the whole “being with him thing”.  And that’s the bit he doesn’t get.  But what of his thinking?  It’s not like he’s turned me away nor has he not suggested it.  I scare him, he says but I’m not so sure.  It’s like the smirk when he says he is porcelain.  I think he scares himself too.

And so, what to do?  I want him to miss me too but I don’t want to take the risk that he won’t miss me.  You understand?  And, after a few hours away from him my brain turns to mush and I become weak and all I want to do is see him, hold him, be with him.

This morning he stays in bed.  I dress and come back into the bedroom.  He reminds me he is porcelain, I tell him that I know that already and kiss him gently, several times.  He calls me his bambino, as usual.  I’m sure he feels the same as me and is just scared for himself.  It’s the afternoons and evenings where I lose it.

But, in the mornings, I am stronger.

In the half-light, I could see the smirk

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He tried, on the internet, to find a film in original language, bless him, even though I tried to explain that they did not have original language films on a Sunday any more.  They used to do it at the Odeon, near the Duomo but stopped it a year or so ago.  I guess not enough people went.

But he tried anyway and for that I was happy.  He had said he wanted to see the new film Julie & Julia, with Meryl Streep.  I told him that we could go and watch it anyway, even if it was in Italian.  In fact, I insisted we did as I knew how much he wanted it.  My Italian is improving, at least my understanding of it, mainly because I have less choice now and, although we speak almost exclusively English when we’re together, when we meet his friends or, in general, Italian is spoken much more often in my hearing.

We had had a rather lazy Sunday morning, including a quick trip downstairs to the nice café for breakfast followed by a quick trip round the supermarket for some essential items (including wine).  The clocks had gone back and so, effectively we had the extra hour – although, after so many days/nights like this, I was completely shattered and needed about 3 extra hours!

He was going to lunch with friends and then to see a flat that was, apparently, rather small but had a terrace and was on the top floor and, much more importantly for him, was 3 minutes from work.  This is not so important right now but the first three months of the year it is, as he works from about 8 a.m. until 10 p.m. every day.

I went home to spend some time with the dogs.  They are being a little neglected right this moment and so, when I’m home we go for longer walks and I play with them more.  Still, this week I have to spend some nights at home, which fact I still have to tell him.

We agreed that we would meet at the cinema. Before that I googled the film and got the synopsis and watched clips so that I would have a good idea of what the film was about.  It is more difficult to understand if I don’t really know the subject.  It looked a funny film.  I Skyped FfI who explained that Julia Childs was very famous in America – a sort of Fanny Craddock, I suppose.

So, when we met, I already had a good idea and could remember some of the clips.  We had quite good seats.  I did follow quite a lot of the film.  There were a couple of bits where I really didn’t quite get it but not so many and there was only one bit that I had to check with him afterwards – although I had got the gist of it after all.

Good film.  One of those feel-good films and one that I now want to see in English, to get all the nuances.  But I do think that he liked the fact that I went with him.  I hope so.  It’s all part of the strengthening of the relationship.  He also wants to see it in English.  At the end of all this, he’s speaking in English to me partly because he wants to improve his pronunciation and general command of English (although he is already very, very good).

On that subject (but see the bit about the bar, below), we went out on Saturday night to an Indian restaurant (The Dhaba, Via Castaldi 22) which has to be the best Indian restaurant I have been to in Milan.  Superb food and excellent service although, for those of you from the UK, a little expensive.

Whilst we were chatting over dinner I found that he doesn’t eat red meat – or, at least, not unless it’s minced up (ragù (Bolognese sauce to my English readers), sausages, etc.).  This would be a bit of a problem with Roast Beef and Yorkshire Pudding then?  Hmmm.  That’s a bit like really loving ice-cream and being told that you may never be able to have it again!  But he did tell me some funny stories of when he was a kid.  He still makes me laugh and I really like that.

Afterwards we went to a bar nearby (the corner of Castaldi and Via Settala) where a friend of a friend was having some special evening.  AfL, the friend, was there with her friend M.  AfL is married to an English guy and has lived in London for 5 years.  F asks me, when they have gone to the bar for another drink, if his pronunciation of English is better than AfL.  I tell him yes, of course.  It does help that it is the truth but he is immensely pleased with this.  He tries so hard to talk with a more English accent, bless.

I leave them to go and do the dogs.  I text him when I am almost back home and he tells me he is coming to pick me up in a taxi (as we had agreed).  In the taxi, on the way back to his place, he tells me that AfL (who will be staying with him next weekend) thought I was really nice.  This is good.  One should always be the best of friends with the friends and colleagues of one’s partner – certainly at the beginning.  You have all seen ‘Hitch’ haven’t you?  And the being friends with the friends is pretty crucial.  Luckily, all the ones I have met so far have been lovely so it’s not so difficult.  Anyway, I can be the perfect English gentleman with all the charm switched on, when I want.

Sunday night, after the film (we went to the 5.30 showing), we went to Al Basilico Fresco restaurant (Viale Abruzzi 21) where we had pizzas.  Nice place.  The pizzas are thin (like Pizza OK) but not so large.  Very nice and not so expensive.  I like that after the meal they give you a sorbet free of charge.  It is nicer than having a limoncello or mirto or something.

During the meal we were talking about films and cartoon films (which we both like).  His favourite was Ice Age, which I’ve never seen.  When we got home, he put the film on the DVD in the bedroom and we watched it.  It was good.  After the film was over, apparently, I went to sleep immediately!  And to be honest, I am very, very tired.  I’m almost looking forward to him going away for a night this week!  I need sleep.  Also, next weekend, it is very unlikely that we shall be together as, not only does he have AfL staying with him but also a dog, for whom he is dog sitting!  A dog who sleeps on the bed!

And, this morning, at about 6.15, just before the alarm went off, he again said that I should remember that he is like porcelain in the morning, but now I’m thinking that this may not be quite so true as, in the half-light, I could see the smirk on his face.