Love, Not Love - Part I

I'm often asked why I'm single. Perhaps this will 'splain Lucy a bit about Romantic Behrmark. I’ve written this in an abbreviated, clipped style; it’s how it comes out. For brevity (!) and anonymity, the initial S is used for the other party. This was not easy for me to write. Memories can be evil and hateful reminders. This is merely Part 1. Be warned: it’s not pretty.

We meet on gay.com of all places. I think S mistakenly clicked on my screen name. S assures me he hasn’t. Wow. Gorgeous man wants to chat. He can carry a conversation. He’s smart, has sense of humor. He has a beard, killer smile. Swoon.

He wants to meet. I’m not nervous. At least I keep telling myself I’m not. We meet at Downtown Disney. I’m early. He’s late. I stick my hand out – isn’t that what polite people do? He looks taken aback but we shake hands. I fall in love instantly. Not loin-stirring, lust-driven, heart-racing love but quiet soul- consuming love. We have dinner, hit a few rides at California Adventure. He tells me I’m cute. I think “What a great guy. I’ll never see him again.”

He calls two days later. For another date. Dinner and a movie? Good dinner, no movie, just lots of talking and getting to know each other. Holding hands on my couch he says I intimidate him. I move too fast, physically. Holding hands is too fast? When he leaves, I kiss him. (Six years later, I can still feel it.) All of the feelings I think I’m imagining start to crystallize. I am most definitely in love.

We spend more time together. Never cross the line, take it slow. He lets me hold his hand at the movies. We go to the gym together. See him naked in the showers. SCHWING! Suddenly feel inadequate. But he keeps coming around so he must like me. Right? Right? Start having panic attacks…rent my house move in with him? Sell both our houses and buy/rent something new? Oh god…introduce him to my family?!

E-mail him to say I like him. Am interested in more than friendship. Just sayin'.

S invites me to go to Renaissance Faire. He introduces me to his friends. Hit it off with them. Did I pass the test? Next day he emails me. I’m fun, I’m handsome, but he isn’t feeling the spark. Let’s remain friends. Heartbreak.

Friendship in all of its goodness. Jokes. Midday text messages. Dinners together with more of his friends. Gym dates. Disney Bears group. No touching, no kissing. Just two buds hanging together. And yet I keep falling deeper. I need this to stop.

Weekend trip to San Jose, hang out with SacBears, go to Great America. Two nights. One bed. We sleep naked. Last morning, there’s movement. He’s jerking off. I suck him and massage his prostate. He cums. He showers. I remain untouched.

A new introduction. Someone he’s dating. Hot guy, they look good together. I see silent intimacy pass between them. I hate this guy. Weeks later S shares his frustration that he and Other Guy don’t have much in common. Inside I scream. Outwardly I give advice. We help those we love even when it kills us to do so.

I plan a trip to Cancun with a coworker and her husband. Need to get away, clear my head. And my heart. S calls, tells me to get laid. I retort that’s not my main goal. He asks, I tell him: I need to clear my head of some stuff. My meaning is clear.

I return: mission accomplished. Somewhat. Attend pool party. S and Other Guy are there. S compliments my tan. He’s drunk, leering at Other Guy's sizeable cock. I know where it's been. Other Guy attempts friendliness. Have epiphany: it's over. I am healed. Give S his present and leave.

Gay Days. S and I go together. He broke up with Other Guy. Too bad. I spy Hot Latino who returns my smile. He and his friend join our group. Hard flirting. Sexual tension. Alone on Sun Wheel, I fellate Hot Latino. Friends cheer, joke. S is sullen, standing apart from group. Announces his departure. I ask what’s wrong. Angry reply: “Nothing. I can go if I want.” In my head I beg him: “Just ask and I will walk away from Hot Latino.”

S walks away. His loss.

Following week, S calls, wants to “talk.” Meet at his place. He finally broaches “subject.” He wants to date again. Rapture! Realizes what he is missing. I hear the words but don’t listen. Heart jumping with joy. Never stopped loving him. Entire weekend spent together. Heaven.On.Earth.

Go everywhere do everything together. Official dating couple. Joy abounds within me. I will have my Happy Ever After.

Normal dating problems: miscommunication, possible cheating situation. Resolve issues, move on. Wonderful Christmas. Most amazing sex. This will last forever. I.Am.Complete.

January. Communication breakdown. S needs space. I give it. Phone calls stop. He wants to be alone. Fucking Greta Garbo complex. Tiffs ensue. Words exchanged. Physical withdrawal. Ask if we can talk. After party. Host of party compliments how great a couple we make. Awkward silence. Later we talk. Temporary resolution.

Trip to Napa with friends. Going well. Drunken haze, all seems well. Sunday morning he rebuffs sexual advance. I’m hurt, angry. He goes off on me. I suggest we break it off, just be friends. He relaxes. Instantly. Opens up. Emotions pour from his mouth. Suddenly he’s talkative, out of sullen mood. Feels too partnered. I’m too self-deprecating. It’s me, I am the problem.

He’s free. I’m feeling lost. Adrift. Friends know something is wrong, don’t ask. At third winery, I cry. Pain. Misery. Heart ripped out. Friends uncomfortable. S looks guilty. On drive to airport, I weep silently. S strokes my shoulder.

Too late. Much too late.