Her hand was on top of mine, a bit cheesily but comfortingly so, when her phone alarm went off. She glanced up at me before taking it away and digging into her bag. It came back up holding her phone, which she silenced, and a circular case – like a face powder compact, only bulkier. She adjusted the dial and took one of the pills arranged in a circle around it and stood up to get some water from the bar. Must be on schedule, see.

The sex is great. We’ve toned down from rabbit season (which spanned more or less the whole of last year), to more or less once every week. It was around October when she told me she had gone on the pill. However, I don’t really know when she started taking it. It’s all well and good, too, because the thought of getting Mary pregnant scares the living crap out of me.
—

Oh, ease up, we don’t do it as often as we used to – last year we burned with the energy of the sun, this goddamned sun causing all of this goddamned heat. We’re good now, healthy happy sex life – probably no more active than you yourself. Back then, though, there was never any question in my head that I would have to go into birth control. It wasn’t a decision we needed to discuss, I just knew it had to be done. “Must be safe, see” is what he would say. But he didn’t say it, and that was nice of him. I’m just being realistic.

I just wish sometimes we could abstain.
—

I’m perfectly fine with abstinence, mind you. She went on the pill without my knowledge, and definitely without my suggestion to. Frankly, I don’t agree with it, but it seems to have been her sole decision and one that I have no say in. But I don’t want our relationship to depend on the contraception; it seems to me like it’s getting to become a crutch, and that when we do get it on it’ll be “okay, we’re protected anyway”.

But maybe that can wait. It’s our first anniversary, and I’ve prepared an extra sensual night in.
—

One year. Last time I went a year with a boy he beat me up and milked me of my money. I’m so happy I’m finally learning to let go of my apprehensions, though I’m still learning. Even if I’m using the contraception as a backup, which is very much like my paranoid self before I bumped into Vince at the airport, I think I’m doing pretty good.

Maybe we can talk more about serious things this coming year. Sometimes I know he’s thinking deeply, but he hasn’t really opened up to me at length with what his plans for the future are. I think I’m ready to get into those topics. But not tonight, I’m pretty sure it’ll be wild.
—

She comes back to the table, all smiles. I smile back, but I feel like shit. I wish she would talk to me more about what goes on in her head, so at least I won’t have to feel guilty if I can’t help falling asleep after making love – one of the few times we actually get a long and honest conversation going.
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