Archie, Darling. A Queer Romance

Archie, Darling. Part 17

17

Avery is over today; we've hung out a couple of times since our date and it's been really good, we definitely make good friends. We are having a Crafternoon, it turns out that they also do embroidery, so we've set ourselves up on the couch with some Netflix and a wealth of chocolate. Normally I don't like doing crafts with other people, I find that I get frustrated with the conversations, they pull me away from what I want to be doing, but it doesn't seem to be an issue with Avery, the conversation is sporadic but nice.

"Do you think Pedro Pascall could fight a real-life zombie?" They ask

"Well, they aren't zombies, are they?"

"Oh ok, infected then" they say snidely

"Much better, and yes definitely"

"I don't think so" they retort

"How can you say that? He's a big guy"

"Yes, but he's a big softy, a lover not a fighter"

It turns out Avery has a big selection of glasses, today they are wearing a pair that wouldn't be out of place on John Lennon's face. As they focus on their stitches, they look like a craftsperson from days gone by.

"Hmmm, maybe" I reply.

I turn back to my embroidery; I've decided to attempt a portrait of Ellie. "Portrait" is an overstatement. It's a line drawing of the photo from her bio, where she's falling over in her skates. It is proving quite difficult to capture the essence of her hair. Her birthday is coming up and I want to give it to her.

"Actually" I say.

"Mmm?"

"I think he's such a softy he would turn all the infected into lovable chums"

"Loveable chums?" they laugh.

"Yes" I say.

"Flesh eating loveable chums?"

"Yep" I affirm. We finish our pieces to the sound of the not-zombies dying, the bowl of chocolate growing lower and lower. I'm really happy with it, the embroidery not the chocolate. Well, the chocolate too, but mostly the embroidery. Even in needle and thread, she is beautiful. I wish there were a word for falling deeper into love with someone, like a stage beyond loving them. Whatever that is, I'm there. With her, I am myself, my entire self. I don't feel pressured to be anything more than who I am. I love her mind, the way she sees the world. I love her heart, the acceptance she gives everybody. We don't complete each other; we were already complete.

"You've got that wedding coming up hey?" Avery says, as I get up to boil the kettle.

"Uh huh"

"Keen?"

"Super"

"Good, your dress is stunning" they say, joining me in the kitchen. "Have you done a makeup test?"

"Nah, only Mary is doing that, but I've given the artist some reference photos. Cuppa?" I ask

"Thanks"

We sit out the front with our tea, the magpies across the road warbling. I really appreciate Avery's company. I've been in my head a bit lately and it's nice to have someone who understands that, and can just be with me. They're also a great sounding board for a lot of the things I have been thinking about. Avery and I have a shared experience with autism too, we have a short cut to understanding each other and we are sort of each other's island of safety for it. When I was younger, in fact up until a few years ago, I used to think that friendships and relationships were two very different things. Relationships are romantic, and sexual, and special, and friendships are platonic and special in a different way. Now though, I find romance in my friendships, I even find intimacy in them. I don't mean sexual intimacy, but intimacy nonetheless. I have allowed myself to be emotionally intimate with people outside of dating, like Avery, and it has shown me that friendships are every bit as important and deep as relationships. My friends help me grow just as much as any partner ever has. This life that I am build, with my friends at the centre, is the life I used to dream of, just reframed. I used to think of growing old with kids, grandkids and siblings around me. I still do, but now I see my friends among those siblings.