Drifting apart.

Dad warned me that friendships during high school and college would be fluid. I should have been better prepared for the bomb-shell that Thom dropped Thursday night. He has done a great deal of thinking and praying about this decision he says, and the short version is that he will not be going with us into the apartment next year. He’s decided that staying in on-campus housing will be better for him. I have been aware of his moods, and I know that he’s been feeling increasingly alone in the suite. Harry and I are growing together as a couple, and Sam isn’t averse to a little playing around with us every few days. All this has left Thom feeling like the odd-man-out, and while I understand that, I still think running away from his true sexuality isn’t going to do anything to ease his mind.  Sam has told Harry and I that all sexual interaction between the two of them has been over for some time.  So the original gang of four is becoming a new gang or four.

So the three of us still interested in the apartment have asked our friend Shawn, the lacrosse player, to join us. He’s supposed to be discussing this with his parents and presenting the savings we expect to realize when out from under the various expenses of living in the dorms.  Shawn is either gay or very strongly “gay-oriented-bisexual.”

On other fronts, the Chrysler has all new belts, hoses, plugs, distributor cap and rotor, plugs wiring harness, battery and battery cables. The engine turns freely by hand and all the valves are lifting and resetting properly. Fuel lines have been blown out and the gas tank has been cleaned. There was some arcane method of testing the timing chains for stretch by setting the engine at some reference point on the timing marks on the pulley and watching the distributor rotor swing when the engine was moved backwards. Our retired Chrysler mechanic assured us we were fine. The starter complained a little at being awakened after so long a sleep, but she did her duty and cranked the engine over without the coil wire and plugs so we’re hopeful that next weekend will see us actually running the engine. Harry is beside himself with excitement.  The exterior cleaned up very well with lots of elbow grease and TLC, and real Simonize wax. The interior needs some more work with leather preservatives and cleaners, although the carpets are in good shape with just some minor wear in the usual places at doors and under the pedals.

The girls? Marcie and Lillian are still trying to catch Harry and me. I should never have played around even a little bit with Marcie in the shower on that Sunday night after we’d painted.