2/1/2121: Alternate Reality #2

Jay and I have been dating for a year or so. I am head over heels with him and him with me. I’ve found a copywriting job in the Silicon Valley and moved from Sacramento to San Mateo.

Jay’s been living in a basement apartment, trading rent for his time caring for the owner’s elderly and demented mother and doing a few odd jobs around the house. However, that agreement has degenerated badly, and he’s about to get booted from his home.

He’s been putting all his time into the manuscript that will become his best-known book, and has no steady income. Yet somehow I manage to rein in my very powerful caretaking instinct: I do not offer to let him move in with me.

We go on dating and playing, as he drifts from one sketchy living situation to another. He self-publishes his book when it’s ready, which provides a bit of income – but he eventually decides he’s cut out to be a writer, not a publisher, and lets me take over that aspect of things.

The years go by. We play often, then occasionally, then rarely, then never. He loves several other women; I love several other people of all genders. Although we have a few battles in our roles as author and publisher, we remain friendly acquaintances, unburdened by the weight of sharing money, work and living space.