Running toilets....and men

My toilet is still running.

It’s relatively new, this toilet, being a mere two years old, so honestly? I don’t think it should be having issues with it’s floaty-ball thingie that hovers amid the water line, leaving it to run and run and run ad nauseum. Clearly, there should be someone to fix it, and yes, there is, he’s called a plumber, but I think really? There should be Someone In Particular that fixes it.

Along with a whole host of other things. Things, mind you, I can do myself? But would feel as though I were being taken care of, pampered even, without the tiresome massage, and, with a noticable difference in my living situation. Light bulbs, up high, in the hallway back here by the back door leap to mind. Obviously, the floaty-ball thingie.

Which. Is. Still. Running.

Like how my mind keeps coming back to this nebulous concept of love, how to find it, how to sustain it, nurture it, grow it, bask in it. I don’t know how to do that. I can see things for other people - a little frightening, I know, but it’s there - and so far? I’ve been right on. But me? That I can’t see. I know how I think I feel, but I don’t know if it’s love, and if it is, it’s totally different from what I thougth it was, or had with anyone else….we’ve a deep abiding friendship, which I’ve managed to rock, significantly, with a whole array of my Usual Shit, but I think the foundation is there. I like him. I trust him. He’s met, and stayed with Fox, when I’ve had other stuff (read: rehearsal) to do, and he’s great with him. He should be. He has kids, and he’s an awsome dad. It just … shows. Even when he’s not with his kids, he’s thinking about his kids, what he’s got planned for his kids….and he gets H. H adores him.

There’s a line in the show, about being a miser with love, and finally, having to just forgive husbands, ourselves, and more forward - it’s the only way to go really, forward. But I don’t know how to do that. I like to know where I’m going to end up, I don’t do limbo - and isn’t limbo when you fall in love?

He’s told me, up front, not to fall in love with him. Only he wants to fall in love with me, he cannot bring himself to. He’s scared. I’m scared too! Which is when it hit me today: the ONE thing that Judy taught me, along with Jim, is the only true gifts in life are the people that love you. Love them. Tell them you do. The rest of it is up to them. You win some, you lose some, but in the end, you’re a better person for having loved.

I’m not saying I’m IN love. Lord knows he’d shit if he thought that. But. He’s important to me. In ways I couldn’t even begin to describe. For that, I’m quite thankful.

Now. Fix the damn toilet, and he’d be golden.