porter_inc: (goof)
I've had this journal for a year (yesterday). When I started it, I wasn't sure that I'd keep it for long. Sandy was the one who convinced me to get it, and I'm glad I did. I've met some great friends through it, and I've met the love of my life. I'm confident that the next year is going to bring more wonderful things.

The 9th is going to be a year since I joined that writing community. It's been pretty neat and I've actually responded to every writing prompt every week, plus a few old ones.

Most importantly, the 1st marked six months since the very first time I kissed my beautiful boy.
porter_inc: (slight smile)
Here, in no particular order, is a list of the best parties I've ever attended:

- Orlando's 30th birthday (can I list this if I helped organize it? Who cares, it's probably the best party I've been to.)

- A frat party my freshman year (the name of the frat escapes me) where I received my first... Where I was pleasured orally for the first time. Funny how something that's over so quickly can leave such a lasting impression. I remember nothing else about that girl but bubblegum pink lipstick.

- My 14th birthday. Dad was out of town and Mom let me have Pete over to spend the night. All we did was listen to music, watch TV (Mom rented us a VCR and some movies) and eat a lot of junk food, but it was awesome. It might not technically count as a party since it was only my best friend, me and Mom, but it was definitely one of my better birthday celebrations.

And now for the worst:

- My wedding reception. I don't have enough time to list the reasons why this rates as one of the worst, but I'm sure you can figure them out.

- Every Christmas party I ever had to attend for work. As much fun as it sounds to be trapped under the mistletoe by drunken female colleagues or the drunken wives of colleagues, it was mainly awkward and did nothing to raise my level of Christmas cheer.

- Every fundraiser/benefit/begging for dollars type thing I attended as a representative of Hamilton-Fairhaven.

- Another frat party later in my freshman year where my shoes were mistaken for a toilet and some poor girl yakked all over them.
porter_inc: (boys wanna have fun)

I should gather my ghost hunting equipment (night vision camera and digital voice recorder) and visit Aidan. I do believe in this stuff, but, you know, don't want to sound like a total crazy person by admitting it without any proof.

Then again, scratch that. If I do end up seeing something, I might freak out and think our house is haunted.


Orli, do you think our home is haunted? I'm taking a poll, because I don't officially believe in that stuff...
porter_inc: (scruffy)
I'm disappointed that things didn't work out with me and Peter. Before I say anything else, let me qualify that by saying that I couldn't be happier with my life, now. But every now and then I think about Pete and feel a little wistful.

I suppose the main reason I'm disappointed that I'm not going to be Mr. Peter Cavanaugh, one day, is because it felt as if we were destined to be together. Look at our relationship. It's got all the elements of a happy ever after.

We met when we were 11 years old and were both sent to the principal's office. An instant friendship was formed and we became inseparable. Over the years, the friendship grew even stronger. We supported each other through everything. He became the most important figure in my life besides my mother and was the only one who knew how to make me feel better about anything. We loved each other in that way that close friends do.

Peter made no secret of the fact that he's gay. In high school, he didn't date anyone, and while he never came right out and said that he was interested in guys, somehow I just knew. There were a couple of drunken incidents between us, things I denied for my own reasons, but he never let that affect our friendship. Rather, he never let my rejection of them, or him, really, affect things between us.

The drama came during college. When Peter found out I was getting married, he confronted me about denying my own sexuality and tried to convince me not to go through with the wedding. He kissed me, and it was my reaction to it that made me realize I needed to shut him out of my life. I couldn't be with him. I had to marry the woman carrying my baby and prove to my father that I wasn't what he thought I was, end of story. I kept track of Pete through my mom because she wasn't willing to cut him out of her life just because I was angry with him. But, really, I was never angry with him.

When I received word that Peter's lover of seven years had been killed, I couldn't ignore that. The news had shocked me into action, reminding me that life was too short to hold onto grudges that shouldn't have existed in the first place. That's why I went to the funeral to see him.

We talked. A lot. We caught up on each other's lives and cleared the air about what had happened. He met Talia, he came over to spend time with us, we took the dogs for their run together. Just when it looked as if I had my best friend back, he told me that he could see how unhappy I was and he couldn't stand it. And when he kissed me, I didn't push him away.

Our affair was one of the most incredible, exciting, satisfying things I've ever experienced. I'm the one who insisted on keeping it a secret instead of being honest with Talia. It was unfair to both her and Peter, but I couldn't bear the thought of a divorce. He didn't fight me on it. I think he was still dealing with the grief over losing Kory, so we were both getting what we needed and wanted from the relationship.

Then Talia caught us. The shame and guilt I felt would have been unbearable if not for Peter. Same thing for the divorce. He stood by my side, unwavering, loving me throughout all of it and when we were finally free to be together... It didn't happen.

The both of us tried, we really did. But I told him that I didn't want to lose him as my friend if we ever broke up. He told me that we'd never break up so it was a moot point, but I didn't have his faith in my ability to settle down with him. We ended things and agreed to be the best of friends. In fact, we'd made a promise to one another that we'd always be first in each other's lives no matter what other relationships we had. That included a physical relationship. I abided by that, too, until Orlando.

But after all those years and all that drama, when everything should have had a happy ending and Peter and I should have ended up living happily ever after, I ended things for fear of getting my heart broken. It seems kind of silly now.
porter_inc: (boys wanna have fun)
How often do you do it?

How often do you wish you could do it?

[I'm only asking because I feel as if I can't get enough of Orlando no matter how much we shag. If it were physically possible, I swear I'd never eat or sleep. Don't get me wrong, I love the cuddling and snuggling just as much. I love the little touches and kisses that just happen over the course of a day whenever I'm near him. But the sex. Jesus almighty, it gets better every single time. I know being madly in love with him makes everything better, but, really, he would be my sex object no matter what.]
porter_inc: (lounge)
I forgot to mention this the last time I posted (why can't I post every day the way I used to? Why do I feel so restless and disoriented all the time? I'm really starting to get sick of it. Maybe it's the meds I'm on. Except they make me feel nice and calm. So not sick of that. I should talk to David about it). It's only in the talking phase at the moment, but one of these days, Orli and I are going to get a house of our very own built.

I cannot wait. New house. New life. New beginning for the both of us.

Oh. And this is my first public post since I decided to make my journal friends only. It's not as if I'm spilling state secrets in this thing. If anyone (Kevin, for example) wants to comment or hassle me or comment in their journal about things I write in mine, who cares? I'm not scared of him anymore. I'm conflicted and wondering what I could have done differently, but I'm not scared. Anyway, huge kudos to my shrink for pointing out the fact that, while crazies may lurk and spy, they can only harm me if I let them. He also explained that my paranoia is perfectly reasonable since my life went from quiet and private to...not so much...in such a short period of time. Makes sense, right? I feel good. He talked me down. And it only took him a month to convince me that I can stop looking over my shoulder all the time (online)! I'm an open book. Always have been. I never wanted that to change. Thanks to the miracle of pharmaceuticals, it doesn't have to.
porter_inc: (ow candy heart)
posting early

Will had woken Orlando on the holiest of days with a little loving followed by a picnic breakfast for them both in bed. Then, after showering and dressing, he'd thrown some clothes for the both of them into a case and told Orlando to dress warmly because he was being kidnapped and taken across the state line.

The drive was long, almost five hours once they finally found the place and pulled up in front of the cottage Will had rented for a few days. He wanted privacy, peace and quiet for them both. If they felt like it, there was skiing nearby, and the main inn had a dining room if they chose not to stay in to dine.

Will opens the door and shuffles Orli in out of the cold. He's pleased to see that the roses he'd asked for are on the kitchen table.

"Happy Valentine's day, baby," he grins, kicking the front door shut and pulling Orlando into his arms.


Feb. 10th, 2007 04:42 pm
porter_inc: (wokiss)
(WARNING: Extreme Orli worship and TMI ahead. Read at your own risk and don't complain later.)

Okay, I'm not sure I can technically fangirl my future husband. But, jesus christ, the man's beautiful. I mean, look at him. Sit down and talk to him for a while and you'll see how beautiful he is on the inside, too. He's probably going to say I'm daft for doing this (*g* which is so adorable, by the way), but I just had to make a public declaration. Fine, technically it's not public since my journal is locked to my friends, but you know what I mean.

Behold my sexy sweetheart's hotness.

Future hubby hottie )
porter_inc: (holding hands)
Will shuts down his computer and stands up with a sigh. He's going to tell Orlando what a spectacular fuck up he is, and he's not looking forward to it. It's not that he thinks his lover will be angry. It's just that Will knows how excited he was about traveling the world together, and now he has to disappoint him. He'd rather do anything than let Orlando down in any way.

Walking into the kitchen, Will sighs again but smiles when he sees his love.

"Hey, baby," he says, feeling a little sheepish.
porter_inc: (Default)
[backdated to this]

Will gets back from his run, happy that he'd been able to add about a mile to his usual route. When he goes inside the house, he calls out to let Orli know he's home, but the only response he gets is three dogs running up to greet him.

"Hey, guys," he grins, squatting down to pet them. "Where's Daddy?" He stands up and goes to the foot of the stairs. "Orlando?" he calls up, then heads to the kitchen. He hadn't seen the note Orlando had left for him, and starts going through the house looking for his fiancé. "Baby?" He stops to scratch Julie behind her ears as she lounges on the back of the couch. "Honey, where's your dad?" he says, trying not to panic or let himself think that someone broke in and stole his Orli.

"Phone," he says to himself, heading back to the hallway to get his cellphone. That's when he sees the note and immediately feels like an idiot for being ready to panic. That feeling's shortlived, though, when he reads Orli's note. Grabbing his phone, he hits speed dial number for Orli's cell to find out what's going on.
porter_inc: (slight smile)
(for [livejournal.com profile] orlandomuse and [livejournal.com profile] woodlandprince)

Legolas had given the two of them instructions to a meeting place north of where they lived. They'd had to drive a little ways to reach the forest, then had parked the car and began the hike to the meeting spot. Honestly, Will had been as excited about getting out of the city with Orli as he was about meeting their new friend. Well, excited and concerned about seeing firsthand what kinds of injuries Legolas had sustained during his fall. Hopefully, the two of them can tend his wounds if needed. A slight blush tints his cheeks as he thinks about what else they'll be tending.

Now, as they walk, Will takes hold of Orlando's hand and gives it a squeeze. He's missed the chance to be surrounded by the peace and quiet of nature and can already feel himself getting recharged. By the time they reach the appointed meeting place, he's feeling so good, he can't help smiling brightly and pulling Orli to him for a kiss.
porter_inc: (happy)
Because they were both leery of causing a scene, Will had agreed to meet Orli in the parking lot, and Sandy had agreed to just meet up with them at a later time. A quick call once his plane had landed, and Will knows exactly where he needs to go. He's practically running as he races from the plane, determined to get to Orlando as quickly as possible.

Once he finds the lot where Orli parked, he sees the SUV, and his heart starts pounding in anticipation of seeing his lover.
porter_inc: (serious)
Will had given himself a couple of days to think about Kevin's latest email before answering it. Hearing from his ex was less of a surprise, this time, but it was harder to deal with what had been said. Will didn't want to hear about Kevin being attacked or know that his sister missed him. Still, he couldn't just ignore him or let this go.

To: 1017071@sccc.doc.wa.gov
From: will_porter@livejournal.com

Subject: Don't thank me


I'd intended to sit down and write out a rational reply. But reading your email several times has left me feeling less than fucking rational.

Where the hell do you get off? Do you think I'm stupid enough to buy the wounded bullshit and your not so subtle ploy for sympathy? You forget, sweetheart, I know you. I may have been too much of a wuss to tell you what I thought before, but not anymore. Being with Orlando has changed me and made me stronger. I'm no longer going to take anyone's bullshit then line up and ask for more. I'm done with letting people walk all over me.

What do you want me to say? I'm sorry you were hurt? Like hell I'll ever be sorry about something like that. You deserve everything you get. I don't think you can ever understand what you put me through. I loved you, I trusted you, and I put up with an amazing amount of your shit until I just couldn't do it anymore. What did wanting to be free of you get me? You were going to kill me, Kevin, or have you forgotten that in the rush of all your newfound understanding? You held a gun to my head, you asshole, and I know damn well you would have killed us both if not for Orlando and Logan. You held me against my will, you beat me and you sexually assaulted me. I don't believe for one second that you're remorseful. Do you know why? People like you have no fucking conscience, so how the hell can you be sorry for anything you do to anyone?

But I don't hate you, Kevin. I pity you. And, believe it or not, I really am trying to work up the strength to forgive you. I refuse to let what you did turn me into a victim. I'm living my life and you will not have any kind of hold over me.

Don't mention your sister to me again. She's lucky to be free of you and is blessed to be unaware of the sack of shit she has for a brother.


P.S. If you want another picture of me, pick up a tabloid. There should be one of me and Orli in there somewhere. Enjoy.
porter_inc: (shadow)
ooc: I argued with pup and won on the point that since he can't "lock" this post from Kevin (i.e. it's not his private thoughts), it can be public. Go me!

His first night in Los Angeles almost over, Will decides to give his email a quick check and make a post before heading to bed. The email from Kevin is unexpected, but instead of deleting it unread, morbid curiosity (and probably some inebriation) makes Will open it.

He reads it four times, gets a drink, then reads it again, not quite sure what he's feeling. David, his therapist, has mentioned closure with regards to Kevin, making a reply the first step towards that. His own paranoia makes him want to turn off his computer and go to bed. His need to be a better person - the kind of forgiving person he sees whenever he looks at Orlando - doesn't see the harm in a response. He reads the message one more time, drains the scotch in his glass, and hits reply.

To: pnw_pd@livejournal.com
From: will_porter@livejournal.com

Subject: Re: Please read this


You're right about the following things:

Sorry is inadequate. I am happy. You're one reason I locked my journal.

Things you should know:

I thought I hated you, but I don't. I want to make myself forgive you, but I can't. I don't trust you. I'm afraid of you. I don't miss you but I do miss the man I loved thought you were. I'm getting married.

There's no need for you to know anything more than that.


P.S. I'm drunk. I'll probaby regret sending this come morning.
porter_inc: (header crop)
ooc: posting late! ETA: My brain's been fried from NO friggin' sleep, and I should still be making OOC and RP posts public. It's only Will's journal entries/musings/memes (anything he'd be afraid for Kevin to see) that have to be locked in order to be true to his current situation. Got it? Good, because I don't know how to make it clearer. :-) This announcement will be on all the entries I'm unlocking so I don't get any "I thought his LJ was locked" griping.

Will doublechecks that he has everything he needs for the airport. "You ready, baby?" he calls into the kitchen.
porter_inc: (body)
I love exercising. Yes, the health benefits are great, and the high I get from it is something I definitely miss when I don't get in my workout. But, and this is hard for me to admit, I also like the way it makes me look. I know Orlando appreciates it, too, so now I work out for him as much as I do for myself. I'm in very good shape and I can admit that I look pretty good. Nothing's sagging, nothing's bulging unless it's supposed to, and I'm not ashamed to take off my clothes shirt in public. While I'm blushing a little while I type this, the fact remains that I believe it's time I embrace my assets and stop being self-depracating if I receive a compliment. All right, I'm lying. I'm still going to blush if someone compliments me. Damn it. The reason I think it's so hard for me to be vain is because I wasn't raised to feel good about myself in any way. Anything I thought I did well was immediately put down by my father and I was told pride was sinful. That's another story, though.

I was a complete geek growing up. I had braces, I was ugly, I was picked on, I never stood up for myself and I couldn't fight a lick. (I still can't fight and I was hesitant to learn for a very long time. Once, I tried to take a boxing class, but I had to quit the first night because I had a panic attack. Getting my ass kicked by my dad on a regular basis has made me shy away from anything resembling violence. But, now that I feel a genuine need to be able to protect the man I love, I'm thinking about taking a class again. I'm strong, but I don't know how to use that strength.)

In high school, I scored extremely well on assessment tests but never applied myself in class for fear of being labeled "the smart kid." I didn't want to stand out, I never wanted to be recognized for my accomplishments, and I certainly never wanted to let on that I was a lot cleverer than people thought. I got over that in college, by the way, but I still liked to be modest and keep a low profile. You see, if people underestimate you while they think they're stepping all over you, they tend to become comfortable and complacent and are shocked when you fight back. I haven't come right out and said this before, and I won't say it again, but remember the following: I'm friendly, I smile a lot, I talk a lot and I sometimes play dumb. But I'm not an idiot. If I genuinely like you, you'll know it. It'll usually involve me talking to you on a regular basis and having fun with you while I do it. I'm loyal to my friends until the day they give me a reason to no longer trust them. After that happens, I'm still friendly, but guarded. Lastly, and please excuse the language, if you ever fuck with the people I care about, most especially the man I love, I will find a way to make sure you pay for it. I can admit that it takes a lot to make me truly angry, but once I am, you won't find anything remotely amusing about it.

No, I haven't taken cranky pills today, I'm just putting out a fair warning that I'm no longer a doormat. (If you're reading this, K, and you probably are, I'm not scared of you anymore.) Trust me, this goes to issues I've had since way back. I've also decided that I'm going to retool my friends list for simplicity's sake. If I have you friended, but you haven't friended me back, I'm going to remove you and make all my entries friends only. (Plus, I don't read anyone's journal if they don't have me friended, so, really, what's the point?) Reading my journal without friending me is a bit like spying on me and I don't appreciate that. I'm very hinky about privacy matters now and I'd appreciate anything I have to say in here not being shared with outsiders. I know I can trust my friends and, frankly, as I've just explained, I don't need validation from strangers to make me feel special. If I do get wind of anything private being shared, I'll unfriend you, too. This will be my last public post.

That's all.

ooc )
porter_inc: (William)
So I was thinking about something this morning as I lay in bed. Granted, I was still kind of sleepy because Orli and I had stayed up later than usual doing premarital things involving honey dust and feathers, but I was feeling pretty philosophical and deep. You know how people always say it's quality and not quantity that counts? They're right. It holds true for something as simple as investing in one really good item versus having several cheaper things around, as much as it does for something as serious as relationships. I was married for (all together now) 12 years, but they weren't quality years. On paper, my marriage looked like a success just because of how long we'd been together, but underneath it all, it had become a hollow mess. The level of my happiness during those years was nothing when compared to the complete joy I've experienced in the four and a half months I've had with Orlando. Our first date was dinner at the hotel in Scotland the day I arrived. At the time we weren't thinking of it in those terms, obviously. We were just two friends meeting and discussing our lives, but all that time we spent together, getting to know one another, was more precious to me than some of the years I've spent with some people. As Legolas recently said to me, time means nothing to the heart and you can love enough for a lifetime in a day. I wouldn't have ever believed that before Orlando.

This led me down the road to some other advice I'd gotten years ago from one of my old college professors. He told me that successful people will tell you the same thing over and over again: Be the best you that you can be and don't worry about what anyone else says about you. Whatever you think about yourself is what other people will think about you, and if you believe positive things about yourself, that's all that matters. Get rid of the negative people in your life. Not just that, but realize that jealousy can be a very powerful, harmful thing, and it's important not to let other people's jealousy affect you. If someone's envious of your life or your relationship or your friends, it's their problem. Don't let it become yours.

I have to admit that at the time I thought it was all a bunch of motivational speaker tripe, but he was actually telling me things that could help me if I'd only chosen to take them all in at the time. But I can do it now. I'm trying to live by this. Let go and let God. Or, let go and let (insert the name of your own higher power here). All I want to do is love my family and friends, and live every day to the fullest. I know how quickly it can be taken away, so I refuse to dwell on what could happen when there is so much happiness to be found in what is happening.

Now, we go from the sublime to the ridiculous. Doing that 27 questions meme called for me to give weird facts about myself. I didn't want to tell everyone the same thing, so I'm going to list what I've told folks so far:

- The thing I told Orlando
- I used to be afraid of mushrooms
- I eat apple cores
- I can walk on my hands
- I collected bottle caps when I was a kid
- I can burp the alphabet

I can't remember everything I told people, but I think that's it.

Oh boy!

Jan. 15th, 2007 04:35 am
porter_inc: (happy)
ooc: Although Will's talking about the party in the past tense, it's still going strong. And he won't be doing a drunken striptease on a table because he's a good boy. Thanks to everyone who's playing! You guys are the best! :-)

First of all, I feel like I'm still recovering from the party and the, um, after party that sort of stretched into Sunday. It's the good kind of recovery that involves lying around with my superhotsexylover, basking in afterglow. I'm glad today's a holiday, though, even if we don't technically have to go to work.

Random thought... Ray told me that Cordy's party was the same day as Orli's even though her birthday's the 14th. I wonder if whoever threw it (I swear he told me, but my brain's fried at the mo) knew that today's a holiday so it could have technically been done on the actual day for her. Bummer. *gasp* Unless it was a conscious decision to have it a day early in a blatant attempt to steal Orlando's thunder!!! Mark my words!!! No one can steal his thunder because A) He's fabulous, B) He's amazing and C) It's secured by The Club.

Oh my god, before you send your cards and letters, I'm totally being sarcastic (except for the fabulous and amazing bits. Those are true and I'll get that statement notarized, thank you very much). My IQ's 145 above average. I can figure out that Saturday is the universally accepted best day for a partay. I'm actually feeling bad that the flowers were sent the day after her celebration.

[locked from Orli]
I'm pissed. Despite my best efforts, details about my baby's party still got leaked to the press (Mom called to tell me). It's embarrassing to have the estimates of what everything cost (you know how those tabloid shows do it) plastered all over the place. I guess it's better that it got out after the actual party, and that usually happens with secret celeb type things, but I still feel bad. Next year, beach party on some secluded island where cameras haven't even been invented. Good? Good.

On the agenda today...

I have no idea. I'm going to make breakfast right now (according to Will's law, my Boo's birthday weekend doesn't end until midnight), then see what he wants to do from there.

ETA: Maybe we should have a manly workout to prove my manly manliness and dispel the rumors that I'm a big ol' girl. Just a thought.


porter_inc: (Default)

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