household 2006

we sit before a tv, as if it's a fire place, not talking, each nursing a separate hangover, acquired separately. the television adverts draw the same chuckles at the same points, mini rants are adressed at some. well-rehearsed, drily humourous, old shoes ease.
breakfast must be had sometime, he manages to heave himself out of couch and make for the greasy spoon down the road, I demand a doggy bag, not budging from the depths of dehydration (2 pauuas of whiskey were consumed by regent's canal somewhere in misty memory in the last 12 hours)
his paramour #1 makes a surprise visit from out of town, they plan their day together. i brighten and think, oh cool, i can have lunch with paramour #2 then, and do not judge his, her, their moral codes.
my breakfast comes to me, i chomp lazily, thinking cyclically about futures and phd's and visas and not of what to make for dinner. dinners happen, somehow.
later there is some conversation before bed, not much, across the landing, each in their room, invisible, comfortable.
it isn't exactly friendship, nor a marriage, definitely not love. but it is important, a connection, a safe-ness, and maybe it dosn't need resolution.

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