Young Geoffrey (ed_rex) wrote,
Young Geoffrey

In Praise of (a) Younger Wom(a)n - and Other Things

It was maybe 8:30 when my pager went off. It vibrated against my side and I cursed - it had been going on and off for hours: host down, host up. I took a quick look and said to Laura, "I'll ignore this one unless it buzzes again."

It didn't and so, when at last we took our leave of the pub-whose-name-escapes-me-but-has-a-heated-smoking-patio-near-Queen-and-John, I checked the pager again. *** was down and hadn't come back up.

"Shit, I'd better head back to the office," I said. I kissed Laura goodbye. She walked east toward the subway and I bent over my snow-covered bicycle to unlock it, then rolled it along the sidewalk to Spadina.

Seems we'd had a power failure and the machine-room had over-heated, shutting everything down. I rebooted the phone system and a couple of other machines but had no interweb connection, nor any intraweb connection.

My limited knowledge was exhausted. I called our guru, Rob, who walked me through some procedures, then hmmmed about how he could ping the mail server but was not able to log in.

Long story short, he decided he would have to take a cab - and next week, he will give me some serious training so that, the next time this sort of thing happens, he won't have to.

But that's the other things.

Really what I want to talk about is Laura.

She surprised me this afternoon with a phone call. She had decided against her previous (arguably sketchy) plans and wanted to see me instead.

I was actually a little hesitant. Last night went later and was more alcohol-sodden than I'd expected. That, combined with the fact I haven't been sleeping well for close to a week and that my apartment is (*gasp!*) again more of a mess than I'd like, left me wanting to just go home, do some domestic shit, maybe play a little on lj, then pass out.

But I don't see Laura nearly as much as I'd like.

"Yes," I said, "I'd love to see you."

And so, she picked me up at the office and we hied ourselves off to the pub-whose-name-escapes-me-but-has-a-heated-smoking-patio-near-Queen-and-John.

I was tired and my brain was firing at only half-strength. We started slow, chit-chatting over dinner and the first beer, groping one another only a little.

But, as conversations between those who know and love each other well will, we picked up the pace.

Our talk ranged from work, to school, to friends, to old relationships and future kinks; to why-are-we-here, to literature, to childhood memories. We laughed, and we thought, and we ordered more beers than we should have. And we flirted - and I learned there is something really fun about knowing you won't, tonight, be going home with your lover. That there can be a marvellous pleasure in teasing - and being teased, and in knowing that - tonight at least - there will be no satisfaction, beyond the knowledge that I have spent time with the woman I love.

And that is enough.

Well, enough for me. Perhaps not enough for a decent climax of a post.

But how to describe, without transcribing, the joy this evening - and many evenings over the past 9 (or so) months with which I have been blessed because Dame Fortune brought Laura into my life?

Her self-awareness, her sensitivity, her sarcasm (not to mention her joyful and guilt-free animal lust) all astound me. Her knowledge and experience beyond her years impress me. Her questioning mind and sense of self, her strong opinions and openness to change excites me.

And I fear that what I had hoped would be an ode is, instead, little more than a list.

Forgive me.

I am tired and half-drunk and do not do her justice. But I love her and want to shout it to the rooftops.

This is the best I can do before a too-short sleep.

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