Wednesday, 11 March 2009 - 5:14 pm


Today has been better. More skulking, more keeping an eye out for that graffiti squiggle that means we’re straying into Pride territory. There were no close calls, though, which made a nice change. I think we’re staying on the right side of the line. With luck, we’ll be past the Pride’s reach soon and able to breathe easier.


I waited until everyone else had gone to bed before I tried to talk to Ben last night. Then it was quiet and just us and I had no idea what to say. I looked at him and he was avoiding my eye, so I caught his hand to make him look at me.

I hesitated, trying to find the right words, and he asked if I was okay. Which is typical of him, checking up on me when he’s the one who’s been hurt.

“I think I made a mess of things this morning,” I told him.

“It wasn’t your fault.” At least he was admitting that things had been a mess; that made things easier, even if he was trying to deny things at the same time.

“It was, at least partially. I- I wish you’d say if something makes you uncomfortable.”

He looked away then; of course he didn’t want to admit it. He didn’t want to talk about it. But it was there, hanging right between us, this issue of the marks the rain left on him. I could taste it every time I looked at him, every time I tried to form words for his ears.

“Ben, talk to me.” His silence was starting to get to me. “Tell me if it hurts when I touch you. Tell me if you don’t want me to do something. Tell me you don’t want to talk about it! How am I supposed to stop making mistakes if I don’t know what they are?”

He looked down at our hands – I was still holding onto him, and he linked his fingers through mine. He always does things so quietly, and yet with such intensity. And then he started to speak. He said that the burns didn’t hurt him any more (I had checked before, with all of our recent closeness, but it was good to be sure), but they did make him uncomfortable. He didn’t go into why and I didn’t push him, glad to hear at least that much. He would prefer that I didn’t draw attention to them, which is okay. I can work with that. He apologised and I wanted to smack him or kiss him, or both. Instead, I told him that he had nothing to be sorry for; I was just relieved to get it out in the open.

I think it’s all right now. We seem to have an understanding about it, and while I’m sure I’m going to make mistakes in figuring out his boundaries, at least now I know what I’m looking for. Now, I hope, he’ll let me know where they are, too.