Behr Pick: Shame

A friend of mine texted me late yesterday afternoon and convinced me to have dinner with him. We went to a nice little Italian place. They had a prix fixe menu which we weren't too ecstatic about but indulged anyway. For a starter we had steamed mussels and clams; then we shared a house salad and bowl of mushroom soup. He had the petite filet mignon and I had lasagna that was doused in alfredo sauce. It was quite scrumptious. We topped it off with tiramisu for dessert. Oh and we had a lovely pinot noir from the Sonoma region of California.

My friend is not totally out of the closet and probably could best be described as bisexual. Still...he's a handsome dinner partner and someone whose company I enjoy. We entered the restaurant and he saw his uncle and aunt. Because we were both wearing dress shirts and ties it was kind of obvious it was a date. He fretted about it a bit.

After dinner we returned to my friend's place and proceeded to imbibe on some interesting ale he had. I only had half a glass because I needed to drive home. We mostly talked and listened to music and engaged in a little kissing. My friend is trying to get me to go away for the weekend and of course I'm rather hesitant about it.

So why shame? Another friend is having relationship problems and I am devastated. I know it's silly to feel guilty that a friend is suffering from heartache and yet I enjoyed my first ever Valentine's dinner. That's right. I've never had a Valentine's Dinner before. Usually I'm out celebrating my father's birthday. But I do feel guilty and shameful. My other friend should have been having the romantic dinner and I should have been home packing for my trip.

I know my friend would be happy to know I went out. And yet...there's a bitter aftertaste for me because of it. Idiotic, I know. But it's how I feel.

BEHR HUGS