"Black out again?"

"Only a half-black this time."

I went over to Mike's last night after dinner and a movie with Colleen. She caught the bus outside the theatre and since he lives right next door to it, I went over and climbed the eight flights of stairs to his apartment.

He was happy to see me. I was happy to see him too.

We watched Showtime (which is a lousy movie, btw, though maybe it's just because I dislike Eddy Murphy a great deal) and caught up. We hadn't seen each other in four or five days.

It was nice.

I swore I wouldn't fall asleep at his place but, as usual, I was out at 12:30am-1:00am. He fell asleep before I did, head resting against my right breast. He must have been tired because normally I fall asleep first. I heard his breathing change as he slipped into sleep: that kind of rasping, thick breathing that sleepers have. I just wrapped my arms around his head and shoulders, pressed my cheek against the top of his head and fell asleep too.

I don't know how we managed, but we were bother comfortable and slept like that until 3:30am when I woke up and decided I had to get home.

When I stood up I almost lost my balance. My center is off; I can feel it. Everything swims before my eyes, especially if I move.

I stumbled only a few times on the one-hundred and twenty one stairs home. Fortunately Mike was with me, and he's a good pillar to hang on to when I need it.

I woke up this morning, hot and sticky and smelling like him, and fell out of bed. I still feel dizzy. It's not so bad sitting here at the computer because nothing is moving but my hands and they virtually move on my own. They don't need my eyes' guidance.

But when I'm walking around I'm really dizzy. All the time. It isn't passing.

"It's getting regular. You should get it checked out."

"It'll pass. It always does."

Before&After