He gave me grief for not being a morning person and he smacked me on the ass as I walked past him...though confused and intrigued about the change...I just chalked it up to it being a new day and was not going to question it.
You had to be there to feel how deep things were, to experience the level of that depth...to experience the exasperation of Michael trying to explain to me why...after only a few months...he felt as though he had found his person; The desperation he felt when he was trying to convince me that all would be ok.
I watched Michael's expressions and body language as Dave was sharing the information. It was clear, at least to me, that Michael was feeling all sort of emotions and was working hard at not reacting. I had to wonder, to myself, why they chose to have this conversation in a public place but who am I to question.
I came to the realization that I didn't really know much about the man. I knew most of his history in terms of his family but, in all the conversations we have had, I have never heard him speak of or talk about any relationships that he may have had...not even a hint.
I turned to say something and he put his finger under my chin and leaned in and gave me one of those kisses again and my thoughts turned to mush. It was during the split second of that kiss that everything came flooding back...
The guys and I all met up at my downtown spot. It was a familiar, CHEERS sort of place where everyone knew everyone and most of the patrons were in the restaurant and/or bar business. I was good friends with Murray, the head bartender.
Things on the home front were getting more and more weird, for lack of a better word. Our kids were out on their own, I was pretty much working day and night and, for the most part, I was oblivious to the fact that things were slipping away.
When I got up to the apartment, I stopped dead in my tracks. There was Michael dressed in black tails... looking as though he stepped right out of GQ...fumbling with his bow tie...clearly irritated at his inability to master it. I sat back silently watching...and chuckling to myself...and there was that nagging feeling again...can't quite figure out what it is..
Michael sitting on the edge of the bathtub, wearing only a wet towel, laughing his ass off and me, in the doorway of the bathroom, laughing my ass off in between gasping for air......certainly not a story either of us, in the ensuing years, really ever wanted to re-tell but there it is.
This project started out as a journey...a chronicle if you will...attempting to heal a devastating wound, feelings of loss, guilt and emotions that attach themselves to that loss. The project does not have a "traditional" happy ending; rather its words force the author, and the reader, to acknowledge the realization that we all suffer loss and we all bear that burden.
I get a clearer, albeit detailed view of what our two temporary suite-mates are all about and a foggy picture of what my pal Barry is about.......It's getting weird for me
A college student's journey of discovery....a beginning....This is loosely considered the Story that should have been written leading into my story titled "My First Time"
And for followers....My First Time leads into the Firehouse Grill Series
I think it is an interesting look at a single event/encounter that forced myself to evaluate who I was and who I wanted to be. There is some graphicness to certain parts of the story - that is not why I wrote it but the sex was an integral part of the story and the reality for me at the time.