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He was very beautiful tonight, here with a new boyfriend, another bicycle courier [Shel on a bike now]. He makes me feel indulgent, proud of him and, simply, loved.

This is how he could say he cares about me after he knew I'd been worried about him today. I called Julie about the gancyclovir; it wasn't essential, she said, but Terrell insisted. No dentistry.

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His big fleshy cock and balls seemed out of place on his neat little boy frame. David's latest homecare attendant was a pleasant, slightly queenly young man named Craig Russell no relation to the outrageous queen of the same name. I told him that once. We headed off at Well, don't fret it for me.

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He stuck his hand under his T shirt once to scratch his laving, his stomach exposed: taut, subtly rippled, a nice belly button. They were there much of the time, blurring the role of care team members in their own minds -- and in Terrell's, too. He said he trusted me because I never tried to run his life, and I didn't.

Even without such scenes I'd have been happy, Shel's mere presence, the sight and smell and sound of him, so rich. That was good: he could sometimes be too much for me, my calmest times with him when he was asleep, tired out from his long days.

har George Hislop once came up, an arm around Dino, and said: "This boy's got a great big dick" -- George occasionally having his data firsthand. But my pleasure came nonetheless -- in being trusted with his cock, his body, his sleep.

It matters to him that I should know. Dino smiled in satisfied embarrassment. We're fine.

He was admitted to her ward, D4. Do you have a sandwich or something? He's made me happy over the last five months and I might never have had that at all. A nurse said he'd been waving it around in his sleep.

I gathered it wasn't going well. He and Mark could not. He's leaviny on honour, big on taking care of his friends. Shel was big on honour, standing ever firmly by my side. And asleep.

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Now he was exercising on me the tyranny Hormy the dying -- by proxy. But I did like the idea that he'd be around and I was sad and disturbed last night -- sudden grief at unanticipated loss. It's said that the dying choose their moment. Rick James at George's once said, "Shel wears his heart on his face.

Even with homemakers in there could be too much to do. I told Jane about Phil, a big Celtic boy next door; he might have stepped directly off the bench of a Catholic college football team.

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We had thought he'd go the day before, not cogent then but awake, agitated. Can't they see?! Here are 10 all-too-real worries every girl has after a one-night stand and why these worries are completely worthless. He was oversolicitous, guilty, when I Hirny goodnight there-- but had to ignore other distractions to be so. Well, even the most indulgent uncle likely does best with just one nephew at a time. Thursday, March 24,to Jane: Shel just left.

The rest of him seems not ravaged at all, but for the hickeys he sports on different, random spots each time I see him. Paul lit the candles and set out all the right wine glasses; we had two beautiful burgundies.

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And, if he thinks you are, why would you want to waste time on that? Many of the boys there were from Down East -- direct, easy, if some a bit scruffy. But he never came that way. Her husband came up just in time: Shel got his duds -- and a quickie too, more in the mood for it than I, due right back at Terrell's.

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He'd met him at Colby's, a tall, geeky boy named Andrew. Paul didn't want to live alone -- and thought I shouldn't, either.

He'd got up the night before at 3, was getting dressed, convinced it was time to go downtown to the St Lawrence Market. He was still David, if David going away. The internal catheter had come off the chamber, travelled down his vein leaviing curled up in the right ventricle of his heart. George would sometimes turn on the TV and a gaggle would gather for a movie. He needed a new IV port and could get a gancyclovir drip while we were there. The "older gentlemen" were not always much older, few older than I.

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I loved being with him as he pumped himself firm, thick, eager; caressing him, kneading the muscles of his chest, his shoulders, his butt, urging him on; loved feeling the spasms of his body as he came, watching him run his slickened hand down and up, pulling his foreskin over the head and back, squeezing hard, milking the last of his sperm.

Well, here he is: Shel. Hofny could have checked my references with George, but he didn't. They didn't.