why are you so cute?

Whenever I felt giddy and loved and affectionate, I'd ask Broadway, "Why are you so cute?" He always got all shy and embarrassed. He'd retreat a little, lower his head and mutter a barely intelligible "I don't know," which only made him that much cuter.

HB on the other hand would spin some outrageous tale. "Well, let me tell you. On the day that I was born, there was this cuteness wizard outside of the hospital. He decided to bestow extreme cuteness on one baby born that day..."

Or perhaps it would be about how when he was 5-years-old, his mom took him to the carnival where he stepped in the trails of a shooting star and caught the attention of the cuteness wizard. And so on and so forth. It'd be a long-winded story he's making up on the spot every single time.

The first time that it happened, I thought it was funny and cute. But when it happened every time, I started rolling my eyes. Here we go again, I'd think. I already know that I will want the next 5 minutes of my life back.

Broadway and I have been emailing back and forth a lot lately, usually multiple times a day and across multiple email subject threads. We send each other funny pictures, funny articles, funny life reports. The emails are light-hearted, short, devoid of conjugations of the verb "to be" (our usual communication style), go off-topic quickly and usually devolve into something altogether silly. For example, one of yesterday's exchanges went like this:

Me: "somebody built an igloo in the courtyard outside my building. i climbed in it and played. it roomy & fun."

Broadway: "oh that cool. maybe i go by there on way home later."

"may be more fun in daylight, so maybe on your way in tomorrow. probably just dark & scary & cold when there no lights."

"haha, yeah maybe tomorrow better. i probably not going home until late tonight anyways. so much to do. gaaaaaa"

"gaaaa good luck. i've been setting up a lot of stuff last couple of days, so there just lots of waiting. wait wait wait"

"dig dig dig"

"what you digging for?"

"digging out from under this pile o' stuff i gotta do. dig dig dig"

Today, I asked him about going by his house sometime tonight or tomorrow. A group of us want to go skiing, and my car racks are still stored at his house, my old place. I still have a key to the front door, but I feel weird just showing up unannounced and letting myself in - it makes me feel like an intruder. I asked Broadway when he thought he or his roommates might be home for me to come by.

His response: "I don't know about others. I'll be home working most of this evening and tomorrow. if you coming to get your roof rack, then you choose when you coming. if you coming to see me, then you still choose when you coming. you choose."

We haven't seen each other since I moved out in May. These emails are a new development as of the last month or so. Are we ready to see each other? I don't know.

I replied that it would be good to see him, but I don't want to make him see me if he doesn't want to. But now I'm all nervous thinking that I might see him sometime really soon. I need my roof racks before Sunday morning.

He hasn't responded yet.