meanwhile...

several time zones away...

masters of the universe convene...

the editor is in europe and in high guru mode. speeches/conferences in milan and venice, then capped this coming week with his annual uber-guru appearance at the world economic forum in davos. attendees? the bills -- both clinton and gates, tony blair, hrh of jordan, prince charles, the former president of iran, various oil and banking ministers and assorted kings; mega-ceos like those of goldman sachs, google, forbes, credit suisse, novartis... and the man i'm curently fucking. (qualify here with "most frequently", i guess.) he's "in the club" -- an irrefutable member of that exclusive group of the world's most influential thinkers and powerful movers.

a few weeks ago he texted me from a party where he and phillip roth were wearing the same tweed (he claimed to have a better tailor, lol) and the host, a pulitzer-prize winning author, was playing show tunes on his piano. he has published/edited several of the books on my shelves and many others i've read but no longer own. he has logged millions of miles and makes regular appearances both in print and on the tube.

his mind is lightning quick and he has amazing recall of snippets written and sung. spontaneous sonnets, limericks and quatrains roll off his tongue. our brains work in the same way: the progression internally obvious (to us) but too fast and broad to articulate to others. others to whom it seems haphazard or that we're not paying attention. thankfully, i recognized this right away, lol. he also knows the import of self-deprecation.

he's clearly smitten. i get dozens of rat-a-tat-tat e-mails and texts daily. he feels "romantically desperate" in venice without me. such an evocative phrase and in the past i've felt it too ...

he tells me i'm incredibly smart and funny... and sexy. he pines when we're apart, and he's ravenous when we're together. 15 years my senior, yet he recovers with little or no refractory period, claiming only one prior instance of that EVER. he relishes the whore in me and indulges the submissive masochist in me. when in boston, he wrestles his schedule to the ground to be with me.

he showers me with praise and affection, yet i am unsure of my personal footing. it took me weeks to inflate my cojones sufficiently to say i feel like he talks so much that i can't get a word in edgewise. he was quiet and reflective for a few, then shyly admitted he knows he does that and "by all means talk right over me!!" so i do, and it works, lol. i also see him making a very real effort to ask questions and listen. he actually confessed that he wanted me to be impressed with his position so i'd "like him"! a scared 16-year-old nerd remains trapped and anxious in a very grown-up and astonishingly successful man's slim body.

so, question to self: how much of this is him, and how much is me? for years, i was consciously (and sometimes forcibly) deferential to the g.c. at times i took a savage beating having forgotten my place. then i gratefully crawled back, vibrating with love and awe, and mindful not to repeat my mistake.

am i that different, or merely insecure because of "who" the editor is? he and i are brand-new. he remarked the other day how strife-free everything has been. i helpfully offered to manufacture some drama! i shall tread carefully and quietly. already i'm immensely pleased with myself for neither sabotaging nor avoiding what seems to be working.

i know i'm changed. here's just hoping it's for the better.