I had a friend with whom I talked about Andrew and from whom I often sought advice. This email message to him is from 6:47 p.m. on Sunday, February 5, 2006, the third day I knew Andrew. This message was typed in Andrew’s apartment, on Andrew’s computer, while he was preparing dinner that night.
When I go back and read these old email messages now, it seems like this stuff all happened about 100 years ago. I also see now how uncertain about things I was at the time. So much has changed since then.
Yes, Silvio, I think smitten is the word.
I am over at Andrew's house right now. He is fixing dinner, and his roommates are either reading or online. We are going to watch the Super Bowl tonight, even though I don't think anyone truly is all that interested.
Andrew and his roommates live on the third floor of a town house. There is a hallway, two bedrooms, two baths, a living room and a kitchen. The living room is the study center--four computers, one in each corner, two sofas and a TV.
His roommates are the ultra-serious types. They are very polite, but I can't say much else about them. They are obviously straight.
I came over for breakfast, and then Andrew and I went out for a long walk and had lunch out, and I learned a little bit about his roommates and their living situation. Then we came back here and were alone for a couple of hours before his roommates began filing back in. [During the two hours Andrew and I were alone, we just talked. Nothing more. I don’t want people to get the wrong idea.]
They have a rigid division of duties. One is responsible for the housecleaning, one is responsible for the laundry, one is responsible for the finances and Andrew is responsible for the cooking. The finance guy's name is on the lease, and he takes care of the utilities and expenses and house bills, and collects the funds from the others, apparently down to the penny. The house rule is that breakfast and dinner is available at home most days, but that lunch is always an individual thing, even on Saturdays and Sundays.
When we went out, I asked Andrew whether his roommates knew he was gay. He said they knew. I asked him whether they knew I was gay, and he said they probably assumed I was. I asked him if that would be a problem, and he said no, that would be no problem whatsoever.
Their apartment is really clean, and the walls are all spiffing white, but the furniture is just second-hand stuff that will be dumped or given away at the end of this semester. The apartment is really spare, and they don't even have any blinds on any of the windows!
My roommates are straight, too, but, unlike Andrew's roommates, they are not the ultra-serious types. We're friendly, but we're not friends, if you know what I mean. Plus, our place is sort of messy, and not that clean, and I just don't know if I want Andrew to see where I live and I just don't know if I want Andrew to meet my roommates.
What I'm really afraid of, Silvio, is that they would make a bad impression on him.
I just don't know what I'm going to do about this. I think what I'm going to have to do is to have Andrew come over to my place sometime when everyone is gone, just to show him where I live, and hope we can leave it at that.
Maybe I am making a mountain out of a mole hill, but I was really curious to see where Andrew lived and to meet his roommates, and I assumed he had the same curiosity about where I live and my roommates. But maybe he doesn't--he hasn't asked any questions about my roommates. Is that a good or bad thing?
Just not sure what to do about this.
Enjoy the Super Bowl!