You know how when someone you love, someone you’ve shared everything with and you trust and respect and have complete faith in but also enjoy that passive acceptance bred out of total familiarity, when someone like that says I love you and you say I love you back in a totally rote fashion, not disingenuous but so automated through fidelity that it becomes an ignorable key structure in your day to day? You know that feeling? That voice tells me I deserve to die and I always say, of course I do, in a totally rote fashion, of course.
Mikey’s mentality resides somewhere slightly adjacent to the rest of us, entering into his awareness can be difficult. I told him, I don’t believe in monogamy anymore. ‘Oak is nice,’ he said, ‘or pine.’ I’ve learnt not to pick my battles, to just engage and let him extract what he needs. So, I gently outlined my love for him and lust for others, my need to stay but stray. ‘And me,’ he said eventually, ‘what should I do?’ Whatever you like, I said, as long as you love me. ‘Well,’ he said, ‘I think I’ll just keep being myself.’