September 13, 2002 | 9:51 AM

Here�s something you should know about me�especially if we are friends.

The most important thing to me in the world is your upfront-ness and total brutal honesty. I most likely will not take it well at the moment you tell me something painful. I might freak out and cry or say fuck you. I am highly reactionary regarding criticism. In the heat of the moment, I take everything personally. But what you have to understand is that I am not delicate and that although my reaction to you may be intimidating, if you weather it, you will be richly rewarded. I will cool off very quickly. And I will think about what you said. I will consider it carefully. And I will appreciate your opinion and insight. And I will most likely come back to you three days later far more objective, having learned something important about myself. And you will forever have my respect. Pussyfooting and avoidance�especially if it�s a result of you being afraid of me will kill our relationship. And ironically, if you are avoidant because you�re afraid of upsetting me, you will only inspire my constant wrath.

Nothing specific happened to make me think about that. Except that Eric is up and staying with me. And he is brutally honest in the best way, which I appreciate and for which I am forever grateful. I was really looking forward to being with him, but I was afraid that, you know�the magic might be gone. After all, we haven�t seen each other in a long time. I figured things would be pleasant, intellectually stimulating, and a tad chilly.

But it�s been the best. From the moment he and Brian got here, there wasn�t so much as a pause in the conversation. I felt bad for Brian (who is a terrific person) because Eric and I were just off in our world the whole night. Eric makes my heart swell. He drives me batty. I am completely and totally head over heels in love with him (platonically, which makes it even better�no sex to complicate anything.)

When I woke up this morning, there was a poem taped to my bathroom mirror. A poem written hastily in blue ballpoint pen on yellow lined paper. A very good poem, greeting me as I brushed my teeth. And I was so fucking happy to meet this poem that I laughed out loud. Eric is writing me poems�thoughtful, funny, wry unpretentious poems. Eric delights me. Being around him is like listening to your favorite record or reading a wonderful book. He makes the world Technicolor�as bright as an MGM musical and as rch in texture as a Douglass Sirk melodrama. He makes each experience, even a trip to 7-11, an adventure. There is no one for whom I have more respect and esteem and sheer awe. I am gushing. I am gushing like an idiot schoolgirl with a crush on one of the Backstreet Boys. I am gushing over someone I have known for seven years. There is nothing that makes me happier than love�not being loved, but loving someone. That feeling of just thinking someone is the greatest goddamned person in the world. That you just feel so lucky to know them. It�s my life�s blood, that feeling. Eric allows me to think the best of him because he is always the best in himself. And he brings out the best in me.

Right now I am at work. And he is sleeping on my couch. Or maybe he is up writing more poems. In any case, just thinking about him hanging out in my apartment brings a smile to my face.

Tonight we are hanging out with Angus.

Oh�Eric reminded me of my favorite Angus memory, which happened long before the Saga�back when Angus was lovely and fun and at school.

My friend Megan had an impeccable dormroom. It was always spotless. One night while she was sleeping, Angus snuck into her room and covered every available inch of floorspace, as well as every piece of furniture, with dixie cups filled with water. When Meg woke up she was confronted by this sea of paper cups. It was beautiful. The greatest art installation project I�ve ever seen. I have pictures somewhere. I should post them.