Hidden Maps

No sleep over was your original rule, but you eventually let me stay every once in a while. I brought along the copy of Joyce's Ulysses, taken from R's bookshelf months ago, the copy I had brought everywhere in hope that reading it will make me understand R better. You know this. I still had not managed to go far reading it. Page fifteen. Page fifteen after more than eight months. You never let me read the book in your bed. It was as if you were jealous.

"Have you gained your sovereignty?" You suddenly asked.
Oh that. The original plan that went with your original rule. I still kept it and brought it around and about. Secured within my mind. A bit just like the Ulysses copy. It didn't go far either. Just like my progress with Joyce.

"Tell me what you did during the weekend," was actually my reply.

"I had to run some errands, the weekend stuffs."

Yes, your weekend stuffs. Which basically, generally, splitting your energy into more than five things going on at once. I thought of this with pity instead of admiringly. These five lives you're living in, almost dropped the "v" out of it I did. "V" just like I said to you once, "for vaginas. Plural." And you told me it was unfair and made you almost hate me that instance.

You fall under the category of BS in my book. But I never told you this. I was reading Ulysses in your bed. The map to the stars. The key to the heart of R. And you knew what it was. And you immediately took action to it as you usually were. A coup d'etat.

I guessed you as I, had already known the answers, deep, deep inside. I will never be one of your multiple lives. You will never be included in my navigational purposes. Yes, I have gained it, the sovereignty. In the oddest way and at the oddest place. As you shifted your focus unto pleasure, started yet another of your game of hunt the hidden treasure, I turned the light off. We never needed maps in this terrain.