A shy reference librarian, and a college student who was disowned when she refused to submit to conversion therapy, meet in a bookstore. He's been waiting his whole life for her. Meanwhile, she's starting her whole life over. What ensues between the...
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I stand in front of the couch expectantly. He's been parked there since early this morning, going through a pile of books. I don't think he even noticed when I excused myself, walked to the local thrift store, and came back with a large bag. When he starts reading, he gets totally absorbed in it.
"Happy birthday!"
He looks up from the book he's currently working on - the collected writings of Marcus Aurelius, in the original Latin - and gets a bemused look on his face. "It is my birthday, isn't it?"
Since he has his earplugs in, I assume he is having one of his more hypersensitive days. Sometimes noise bothers him, and if he doesn't protect himself from it, he gets wicked headaches. Bright light sometimes does it to him, too. He says some days are worse than others for him. I make a note to do my best to keep my voice down. He'll still be able to hear me through the earplugs even when I'm using a quiet voice - from what he says, the earplugs don't so much muffle all noise as drown out chaotic background noises and make it easier for him to focus on what one person is saying without getting overwhelmed, and they keep the "projection" level of the person he's focusing on down to a dull roar so his ears and head don't hurt. When I asked him what the difference was between noise level and projection, he gave me an odd look and asked if other people's noise didn't push at me or feel like it was jabbing me.
I don't perceive sound the same way he does. I also don't seem to perceive light the same way he does. Then again, he doesn't perceive other people's ch'i through the layers of his skin all the way into his nerves quite the same way I've been doing since November. I guess we both have hypersensitivities, just different ones. His hypersensitivities seem more awkward and annoying than mine are. I deal with mine easily enough by not letting most people get anywhere near me, which is natural enough because I've never really liked being close to other people anyway. On his more sensitive days, he doesn't seem to have any way to escape the unpleasant stimuli at all - the best he can do is stay in the shadows and muffle the noises that bother him.
"You just turned forty-two. That makes you the meaning of life, the universe, and everything. Come on. We have to celebrate it. It's mandatory."
"Hmm. It sounds like you have something in mind."
"Absolutely," I say with a grin. "I have a present for you. Sorry I couldn't wrap it properly, but I did find a nice bow. Here's the bag." I hand it to him.
He puts down the book and holds out his hands for the bag. When he opens it, he pulls out my present and turns it over a few times, looking at it from different angles.
"A baby harp seal plush? Er. Hmm. Eromene, why a harp seal plush?"
"I was originally scouring the thrift store for books, but it was cute, it was there, it was cheap, and I couldn't resist buying it for you. Isn't it adorable?"
