Title: Making Lists
Author: Paul Plesko
Email address: pplesko@hotmail.com
Date: January 14, 2003
Author Notes: It’s several weeks after the "break-up" and Brian is alone in the loft on a cold evening trying not to think of you-know-who. And then, as Fate would have it, a "ridiculously romantic message" from the past becomes a challenge for the future.

Making Lists
by Paul Plesko

I slumped at the desk, trying to balance the checkbook with a tumbler of Jim Beam in one hand... and "Jimmy" wasn’t helping much. The loft was dark except for the desk light... and I could hear the roof-rafters creaking above me because of the cold and the wind. I remembered how Justin had always cast his eyes upwards when he heard that cracking-sound of beams contracting and twisting the sub-flooring; it was as if he expected the entire roof to fall on him any second. He would have hated tonight.

No matter how I manipulated the figures, I couldn’t get my balance to agree with the bank’s. In frustration, I tried scraping the back of the desk drawer for another calculator, as if that would do any good. But the drawer wouldn’t close... almost, but not quite. I pushed harder... and something shifted within as it slammed shut. Several sheets of paper, slightly crumpled, dropped onto my bare foot under the desk. Apparently it had been trapped in the back of the drawer and my shuffling had dislodged it. At first I just kicked it out of the way, but then I bent down to retrieve it. Just before it hit the wastebasket I realized that it was covered with Justin’s writing... not his rapid scrawl, but his artistic printing. This was the second draft of something he had thought-out and re-copied... something he’d planned to keep. He must have forgotten it the night he gathered all his stuff and moved out. I started to throw it away again... but the first line caught my eye. "What I Love" It was one of his lists... the kind of thing he did when he was trying to make up his mind... the pros and cons listed coolly and logically.

[Justin’s handwriting]

"What I love about Brian"

"I love how he smells... and that he smells differently at different times. The after-treadmill smell is totally different from the after-sex smell. And I love the smell of soap on his skin after a shower, even though it masks his underlying scent. And the smell of bleach and freshly-ironed cotton when he’s dressed to go to work... I love that too. His hands smell different from his belly. And he only uses traces of Calvin in strategic spots on special occasions... I love finding the spots."

"I love how he gets excited about his work... how his nostrils flair and his eyes sparkle when he’s describing a new idea for an advertising campaign... how he visualizes the images... how he thinks of guys’ bodies as objects to be lit and photographed in the perfect way... how he gets into peoples’ minds to appeal to their innermost cravings. I love it when he smiles at his own cleverness."

"I love how he looks at me when he doesn’t think I’m aware of it... a quick glance over the newspaper... a raised-eye at the dinner table... a longer look as I undressed with my back to him... a head-turn toward the bathroom while I was combing my hair."

"I love how he touches me... in a thousand different ways... the teasing pokes... the supportive hand on the shoulder... the over-powering wrestling holds... the quick flick of a finger to brush the hair off my forehead... his arms around my waist as he lowers his forehead to mine... the gentle positioning in-bed... the powerful grip of his lust. His large hands are the best part of his body. Well, second-best, maybe."

"I love his dry sense of humor. He can sound vicious sometimes, but it’s usually a tease. And then he laughs when I see-through his façade. You can always tell when he’s joking because his eyes sparkle and his lip curls up in just the slightest smile, like he’s pleased with his ability to fool me. But I know!"

"I love to watch him wake up in the morning. First his body stirs, then his eyelids flutter... then they open as tight slits, his face in a frown as if he's cursing the morning. And then he would see me... and smile... and reach for me. Each dawn is the beginning of happiness in his arms."

"I love how he treats me. He’s changed from teacher to friend to lover in just a few months... and even though he won’t say it, I know he loves me. He looks embarrassed when I say it. And he’d never admit it to Michael. But he treats me differently than he does everyone else. He makes me feel important. He shares his inner thoughts with me when we lie in bed together. And he’s trying to change... for me."

"I’m writing this down so I can always remember how it feels... even when I’m old. To love and to be loved. It’s the best!"

=====

I wish he had taken it. I wish I hadn’t found it. So much has happened since he wrote it. I hope he remembers how it feels.

I turned the papers over and picked up a pen. I was like a challenge... to write a similar list... even though he would never read it. Could I explain why he had affected my life so much?

[Brian’s handwriting]

"His enthusiasm... he had a way of brightening a room when he entered... of brushing-away all that had happened in a day... of making me forget what was troubling me... of making me look forward to the next day of loving."

"His body, youthful and innocent, at the beginning... then sensuous and satisfying. How he felt beneath my weight... how he showed his pleasure... how he always wanted more... how he tried so hard to please. And I could never get enough. He made me feel young again."

"... the way he looked at me. He made me feel as if I could do anything."

"... his strength and tenacity. He has been through so much... and he has the guts of a bulldog when he sets his mind to something."

"... how he giggled when I tickled him. His body convulsed with such force... and his mouth opened wide as he begged me to stop."

"... the way he reached for me in his sleep."

"His genuine affection for Gus... even when he knew I loved my son in a way I couldn’t explain."

=====

I put down the pen. If I didn’t stop now, the list would go on for pages and pages.

I decided that I wouldn’t put the list in the drawer... to read when I was old. I should remind myself of this every day... to remember these feelings in the here-and-now. Life is too short to save it.

=====

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