Reluctant Superman

The Smallville premiere "party" was more like three people hanging out watching tv, which was fine with me. One of the people Gordon invited had to work that night, and Victoria and her husband begged off at the last minute, having just moved and being exhausted from that experience. So it was just us and one other guy friend of Gordon's.

I did make the banana bread with the eggs G brought over. I asked him for just a couple, which he carefully wrapped in blue, plastic grocery bags. I thought I'd never get to them, there were so many layers. He explained: "I wrapped them really tight because I brought them over on my motorcycle." That struck me as being so poetic, such an interesting visual--to take such care to transport something so fragile via such a speedy, somewhat precarious means of travel.

He arrived first and talked to me animatedly about what a productive day he'd had--he devoted his time solely to his art, and had the epiphany that he really wants to spend himself in that direction only. He thinks he wants to get a house because his priestly efforts will take a couple of years yet. I encouraged him to get a house, because I think that will help his self-esteem,and will give him roots. I was somewhat distracted while we talked because I was trying to mix the ingredients and pour them into my loaf pan without making a mess.

The show, itself, was good. It's going to be a very intriguing season. Now that the Lois Lane character has been introduced, Clark may be able to forget Lana. Part of me doesn't want him to, because I am a sucker for things "working out," between star crossed lovers... but I know that according to Superman Lore, not even Lois and Clark ever really get to have each other. Being so special is his curse, damn it all!

G's friend left soon after the show was over, but he stayed about an hour more, telling me more stories--the anecdote-trading which so characterizes our interactions. At one point he was relaying a story about a friend of his who never acknowledges personal space, and stands too close to people, and hugs for almost too long. He had me stand up so that he could fully demonstrate this principle. Being that close to him that suddenly was weird-- we were so close to each other that we just started laughing. After we stopped hugging, he was trying to mimick some other thing that involved standing too close that this guy had said, and he couldn't even make it through the reenactment. I started laughing too, just because it was all so odd... and I couldn't tell if this was an incredible farce, or if he was just truly that tickled about someone who's main problem seemed to be a lack of depth perception! I'm not saying I didn't like it, but it was low grade surreal. Under normal circumstances, I think I would have felt more "there," but because everything was couched in these minor theatrics, I was trying to take things for what they were.
We were close enough to turn that into so much more, and for a split second I wondered if he would try.

Something about him is so much more open when I'm around him now. I see that intellectually, but I don't know how to respond to that emotionally. I normally feel that we are both on guard--my discomfort with myself is painfully apparent to me when I'm around him. His rejection from years ago is not the proverbial elephant in the room, but I interpret everything involving him through that lens--as though it were a literary construct. I think he and I have such similar wounds. Maybe he wasn't trying to close a gap between us, maybe he was... Maybe there is nothing metaphorical to find here, just the literal action. I am so well practiced at demanding nothing from him, that if he were to offer himself, I don't know if I could receive it.