(Journal Entry 2 - July 2021)
I remember when you bought me that first drink, babe. I was smitten with you immediately.
Like I explained when we eventually talked that night at the 80s party all those years ago, I was a little scared to admit that I was head over heels already. I knew I’d met my ‘future boy’ that first night we spoke. It’s 11 years later and I will still always apologise although you always tell me to stop. I love you.
Our first date in the coffee shop made my heart swell for you. You broke me to pieces with how you handled my diagnosis. “Normal is fucking boring” became one of our mantras for life. You brought absolute peace to my world then you gave me some thread and I unravelled that world into the mess it is now.
I know you will have spent time blaming yourself for everything that has happened. I know you better than anyone. You can’t do that. Please don’t do that. This was me and those who took advantage of my weaknesses.
I hope I will see you crash through these ward doors soon. Screaming and shouting at me and trying to conceal a laugh at my ridiculousness. I can’t breathe without you. Ask the hospital staff how I reacted when everything wore off that was coursing through me, poisoning my body and mind. The sight of my engagement and wedding rings gone. Not being able to call your name and you appear. I was and have continued to be a complete state without you.
Please come back. I’ve done wrong but I know I can get well but only with your love and support.
Come see me, if for just one last time. I’ll make my busy brain understand your decision one day.
I won’t disclose yet who saved me. He must do that by himself. He’s dear to me now. We didn’t always get along but he was always just looking out for you, and us both in a way I suppose. I owe him my life, but he has to tell you what happened. Please give him the love and respect he deserves. I would be dead without him.
Please come see me, babe. I’ll keep asking until someone tells me it’s not happening. Then I’ll ask again. And again.
I miss your body on mine. Your solidity, an endless fortress of safety and beauty around me.
My absolute king.
Thinking back now, we did good, keeping our bodies away from each other for as long as we could. We managed until our third date at your apartment, a few months before you proposed I move in. Apart from asking me to marry you, it was the quickest yes ever.
One of the most intimate nights of my life. Your home, like you, organised, smart, together, and I came crashing in with my chaos. You made it yours and we built our lives from that moment.
I remember our eyes dancing over each other nervously all evening. You adorably stressing silently that the night was perfect for me, every night since we met has been perfect.
As always, me being a little more forward, I came to you. You looked so sexy in your simple white t shirt and jeans, sat neatly on your sofa. You looked like you were visiting me. I smile now at how on edge you were in those early days. I know I’m a lot.
I remember kneeling in front of you and pushing your legs apart. You let out a little gasp, nervous at upsetting what we’d established but knowing it was time.
Sex, of any kind was always clumsy, frantic, a race to finish before you. You let us both draw it out, almost painfully. I loved you taking control when you had permission. You always respect me.
That first touch of your mound, hot and firm. The unbroken gaze as your fly was snapped open. Your cock springing free. My smugness at being able to claim it as mine from then on.
You let me set the pace but I invited you to ‘not be gentle’ because I refused to be restrained and tepid with you. It never and continues to never make sense that we would be missionary and beige. You tested my strength, and I, yours. Our appetites just grew and we were seldom satisfied. Clawing at each other long after we were done. Maybe that had a part to play in where we are. Still not your fault.
Taking your first load to my face. Warm, strong, everywhere. I loved it when you told me only I could do that for you. I basked in it. Glistening, gleaming, dripping.
You always made sure I was never neglected, although you were always my main event. That first time, pulling me to my feet, taking me in your mouth, wanting me to push like you had with me, and swallowing me as I finished. I remember buckling around you and you holding me with your pillars of arms.
I’ll never forget our first-times, Dean. Please don’t tell me we’ve already had our last.
