a hard love.

Yesterday I returned late from a somewhat wedding-related jaunt upstate. Marc was already in bed as I lugged some shower gifts up the stairs into our already over-boxed apartment. I moved in officially on Saturday, and we are seriously overwhelmed, despite all of my efforts to cut down inventory before the move. Right now the only places to sit are on the bed and at the computer. We have no couch because, although we managed to remove his old leather jobby with great difficulty, my green garbage couch was of severely suburban proportions and was having none of our skewed entryway. So we left two couches on the curb and filled the living room with boxes. Please don't come visit any time soon. Once I'd locked up and settled in, I returned to my [far too many] messages, not giving anyone the phone time they deserved. I stripped and climbed into bed, and snuggled up next to Marc, smelling his musky back and listening to his snore. I wrapped around him and noted the moment.