2005-07-08 || 12:08 a.m.

|| yours and mine vs. ours. ||

it is very odd to occasionally get messages stating 'i am so glad you are with michael.' scott called tonight and left a message saying he was thinking of us and it made him happy.

michael's's sister called tonight and left a message on my phone telling me to tell michael it's his mother's birthday and he had better call.

michael's mother sent me a birthday present last week. i felt guilty i hadn't needled michael to list all dates of importance of his family members. i've been reigned into the family tree. michael suggested as a mother's birthday present that we make a portrait and photoshop a baby in it: "that would make her so happy." i didn't laugh and stubbed my toe on the way back into the apartment, although i feel there is a better chance than good that photoshop will not be needed at some point in the future.

there are people, i am convinced, who are thoroughly obsessed with our relationship. jason is our surrogate son and has fought the hard fight throughout our five-year hiatus, drawing out my feelings on the situation to deliver to m, finessing expressions of speech and innuendo in hopes of knitting us back together, parent-trap style. i sat in his kitchen and watched him make tea two weeks ago and he stopped for a second to tell me how sad he was that i was gone but how he happy he was m and i are together again. how the only problem is the distance between ma and pa and him in his san francisco kitchen.

sam has stopped his berrating of my prolonging the inevitable; i haven't talked to him since i moved in with his hero. i can hear the way he says michael's name, though, pulling out the syllables and filling the spaces with stars and hearts and lightning bolts.

jeff writes to me to convey his disappointment that a) m did not attend his wedding last year and b)m will not write back. i don't write back, either.

last week i told grandma far away i moved to be closer to my boyfriend. i am sure she is aware of my situation from talks in her parlor with my mother, who is visiting to take care of gram after her emergency gall bladder surgery. when i let her know during a birthday phone call, she acted surprised and said she didn't want to ask personal questions and thought my telling her divulged the gravity of the relationship. she went on to say she saw this next year holding big surprises for me, something she has said for the past five years when i have let her in on my romantic life.

my mother adores m and now refers to his parents as the 'in-laws.'

my father has never talked to me about the subject. in 1998, when m and i were going out the first time around, he was witness to a vitriolic phone conversation in which i was sitting on a kitchen chair hanging up the phone after having been hung up upon by m as finale to an especially passionate debate of who is better: cats vs. dogs (we have had this debate approximately 27 times. we had one this evening, matter of fact, because meow, feline ambassador, was lying in a box. "dogs don't lie in boxes," michael says triumphantly.). the only recent piece of information re: my relationship with m was presented a month ago when i first moved to portland, told to me by my sister. she said dad was concerned since m apparently drives me crazy (see phone conversation, 1998).

we write drunken postcards together while in bars. we wrote one to luke, our roommate from the first time around, and our handwriting filled up the blank space: my meticulous printing cut with m's impatient chicken scratch. it fit together, stripe and stripe and stripe. we will come visit you and we love you, dude, and remember when you used to dance in the hallway and remember the baked-bean-and-scrambled-egg luke breakfasts. stripe upon stripe. i sign my name and then he signs his.

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