A week apart passed, he unboarded an airplane and came to see me in my apartment. On the couch, I eagerly pulled at his belt, and blew him, until he was utterly exhausted. I watched him fight the tiredness, willed to force past it to reciprocate: he didn’t have to, it always evened out. With the future’s knowledge I see in his eyes a drive to leave things well, to treat me fairly, wrap up his tab, within the week.
Some nights when I’m tired, I just cuddle with my vibrator.