• Need (Moments with Sir)

    “Girl, come here, I need you.” I wipe my hands on the towel hanging from the over door and walk into the living room.  Sir is on the couch, the light from the TV flickers over his face, making his eyes glitter. “Yeah?”  My hands are still damp and I wipe them on my jeans.  Sir isn’t looking at the TV.  I follow his gaze with my eyes, but see only the empty corner and the piano. “I need you…” “Yes, Sir,” I say, feeling my brow tighten in confusion.  I am afraid that I’m missing some important signal, that I’m failing to meet an expectation.  But I don’t know…

  • Rain – Moments with Sir

    This story references this post: Shroedinger’s Rain. I could hear him approach me, and I flinched.  “I don’t want to be touched!  Please…” Sir stopped, one hand already outstretched to comfort.  That hand hung for a moment in the air between us, then curled into a fist and I heard him sigh.  “Okay.” A spasm of agony wrenched my chest and I turned away from him, gripping the edges of the counter and focusing my gaze on the branches outside the kitchen window.  I could hear the confusion in his voice, the threads of hurt and concern.  I heard his footsteps retreat but then they stopped and I heard soft…

  • Black Holes and Porridge – Moments with Sir

    As the time for my departure on an international trip approaches, my anxiety has risen to new heights of awesomeness.  Combined with ruminating depression, I spent most of yesterday, and all night, obsessively thinking about the most horrific things that might happen while I’m away and was completely unable to stop thinking about them. Sub Brother has been struggling a little bit as well, though not at the level I am.  But it’s enough that he’s becoming indecisive.  He becomes anxious about making a choice and it causes him to freeze a little bit sometimes, even if the decision isn’t important. Sir frequently amazes me and… at the same time……

  • Moments with Sir – Can’t?

    Sir recently discovered that my new blog theme has emoji buttons at the bottom of posts and decided to go through all of my posts and “like” them with the emoji buttons. I found this both silly and mortifying and, without thinking said, “No, you can’t…”  I caught myself and stopped, but… not soon enough. Sir looked at me.  He wasn’t angry, I could see the faint glimmer of amusement in his eyes, but he raised his eyebrow and turned in the office chair to face me fully. “I what?” “Nothing…” “I can’t?”