Average! My boy is not average!

I got a WHAT!!!

 On top of everything this week, for the first time ever I got a 78 on a MATH test. Z knew something was up because I was not completely upset about it. I actually expected it, my mind was not on the task at hand.

 "Of all the things I know my boy is, average is not one of them. Was it an overly difficult test?"  Between being his intern, cleaning the house, and my studies something gave.

 Okay there's also the blog and the writing, but that's normally during down time (like now) when I can't sleep. After Z comes from his prayer room at night, we make love I am left feeling like I could run a marathon. It is as if there is some kind of weird power transfer from him to me.

 (back to the test) I told him I would try harder, and begged him not to fire me as his intern. He laughed, "We will be bringing in someone to clean the house. You are too valuable to me as an intern to waste you, or your education." He kissed my forehead.

 We also went to the National Gallery. Z was invited to see some Venezuelan artist's work called "The Amman Period." Z was underwhelmed, however I did sort of like the huge columns Borge made out of carved aluminum. For the most part though I shared Z's impression. Modern art has never been my thing. I preferred Farah Foudeh exhibit Bedu. I was so taken with the imagery, Z promised to take me to Wadi Rum. To think photographs of men in the desert, making a boy from the swamp long to be there.

 It's kind of tense here now. We have been having flooding. When the kid from Miami is lamenting rain, you know there is a lot of water. It was so neat seeing the people come together to help neighbors affected by the flash floods.

 Then there is the other flooding, the stuff I am not supposed to see. Z has been working on exit plans for me, and a few of the other boys in his firm. ISIL is making end roads in the outline regions of the country. I think plan D has me walking across the border at Eilat alone with my American passport... When I heard that one I told him, "NEVER GONNA HAPPEN! I have been left behind by so many people. There is no way on Earth, I will ever leave you behind. If we face death, we face it together."

 He laughed and called me a fatalist. Then he got very serious, "You are a gentle sweet boy, MY boy. You are not a fighter. You will do what I tell you. The goal is for you live, and I rejoin you." He reminded me of his promise to keep me safe. Z has never broken a promise to me, I felt stupid with my outburst.

 Tonight before bed he asked me if I pray. He knows I am Christian but I don't think he knows what that means to me. I am NOT going to be the one who proselytizes to him, not here. I simply replied, "Yes I do, non-stop. I am so grateful he answered with a six foot miracle." I kissed him and we climbed into bed.


 Chase