Archive for July, 2011

2 Can Play That Game

N and I were talking sporadically, but it was almost as if we weren’t in a relationship. He was working in the city that day, and sent me a text message asking what time I was heading in. I was getting in the habit of waking up and getting to work earlier. I still didn’t have my appetite and wasn’t eating breakfast in the morning, which bought me more time. I was also enjoying the distraction of work that kept me busy. I told him I would be heading in at 8:30. He said he wouldn’t be ready by then. I didn’t have to be in at a set time, so I waited for him.

Finally, at 9:15 he emerged from his apartment. Had I known he would take so long, I would not have waited, especially if I knew what was to follow. The conversation on the walk was very distant and awkward. We spoke as if we were already broken up. Most of the time, he was buried in his phone. Maybe he was on Grindr, but at this point, I didn’t care. I was too, and I was getting bites. When we were half way to the PATH, he pulls back and says, “Wait! This is telling me the bus is a better option for me to get to work.” Apparently we wouldn’t be going into to work together after all. I waited around for an awkward five-minute walk. He mentioned his need to stop at the ATM but would also needed exact change. Since I’m the overly generous person I am, opened my wallet and handed him a bus pass. He commented, “You would have this in your wallet.” Not even a thank you. I felt like one of his discarded used tissues. I allowed him to take advantage of my generosity, and I hated myself for it.

Before we headed our separate ways, he told me he was going to watch the fireworks with his family at his aunt’s house that night and would probably be staying there. We would not see each other that night. 

While watching TV on the couch, I began to get horny. I decided to text the man I had sex with a few weeks earlier. He was a good lay, and I figured why not? I texted, “Hey man. Wanna come over?” He responded pretty quickly. He was out with friends but would stop by later. He added, “I not a whore or anything either, but I had fun last time with you.”

This is also the exact moment N texted me asking what I was up to because he was on his way back from his aunt’s house. In my passive aggressiveness, I told him watching a movie and chatting online. In the meantime, I texted the man from Grindr and informed him I would have to cancel and apologized. I got no response from N, so I asked if he was just checking up on me or if he was interested in hanging out. When N replied telling me he was just checking up on me, I immediately texted Mr. Grindr and told him to get his ass to my place and apologized for the confusion.

When he arrived, we went out to the balcony to hang out for a little bit and smoke. At this point, he started asking a lot of questions about N. When I asked him “What gives?” he explained someone meeting many of my descriptors had been texting him for some time now. He spoke up because when we met the first time, I was upfront and told him I was involved with someone. At this point, he offered to show me the messages he received. It was really none of my business what the exchanges were between them, but I graciously accepted the offer. What I saw next was just the dose of reality I needed. N had been asking this guy to hook up many times, even sending him pictures of his dick (with his face in the shot). So much for just talking! The icing on the cake was he was messaging him that night. He was playing back n forth between the two of us. That was the ultimate slap in the face. While he was sitting there in front of me, N was still texting him. 

I knew better than to leave notifications on my phone when Mr. Grindr came over. I had a feeling N would text again, and I didn’t need a distraction. I was horny and was annoyed with N’s games. Mr. Grindr and I had an extensive conversation about the situation at hand. I apologized profusely for bringing him into the mess and came clean about using him just for sex. He actually was a good guy and I started to look at him as more of a friend than just a hookup. He didn’t need to tell me about N’s sexting, but he did. I greatly appreciated his candor.

With that, we headed inside to my bedroom. As we did, I glanced at my phone. I had three text messages from N asking if I was feeling better, asking how my chatting was going, and finally asking again what I was doing. Mr. Grindr looked at me and asked if it was N. I said yes as I put the phone down and lunged at him.

We had sex and it was good, but we needed to take a break. When we did, we discussed things again, but the conversation was more about the relationship between he and I, not involving N. He even asked, “Should I tell him to come over?” I loudly protested how bad an idea that was. I don’t know if he meant in the sense of a three-some, but I thought me meant more to confront him on his indiscretions. I told him it wasn’t my style to make a public spectacle of things. That type of action was not proper, not matter how much N was playing games.

At that very moment, Mr. Grindr got a text notification. He said, “That’s one of two people. Either my roommate or him.” I told him he didn’t need to look for me, but if he wanted to look for himself, that was his business. He looked, and sure enough, it was N asking him to hang out still. I got GREAT satisfaction out of this. Not only was N home alone with just his hand, but after trying to manipulate both of us, I got the guy. The two of them never had the opportunity to meet. Both were closeted and had roommates. They had nowhere “safe” to hookup.

Mr. Grindr’s morals kicked in at this point, and he decided it best if he went home. I tried to convince him to stay and chat further (and also finish what we started), but it was no use. He insisted on leaving. If I wasn’t feeling guilty enough for dragging him into this mess, now I felt downright awful. As he left, I walked to the window to watch what he did. I was curious if he was going to try to meet N. He walked to the corner of my street, looked at his phone, and looked toward N’s apartment. He paused a moment as I said out loud to myself, “Don’t you dare!” Just then, he turned and walked home. “Good boy!” 

After about a half hour, I responded to N’s texts. I told him my appetite was returning and the online chatting was just Facebook. I then played dumb and followed up with, “Did you need something?”

The next morning I woke up to a text from N saying, “I wanted to see you.” What a prick! He didn’t want to see me. He wanted to get off! And, he didn’t care if it was Mr. Grindr or I. This cut deep, but my anger provided a sufficient band-aid for the time being. To me, it was his worst transgression. Even if they never met, he had every intent to do so. He even went as far as covering his bases by texting me should their plans fall through again. It was over. We were done. I do not stand for anyone treating me this way. After 26 years of single life and tormenting myself, I wouldn’t stand for this behavior! I deserve better! This was the wake-up call I needed, but this was just the beginning of my transformation back to my old self.

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Playing it Cool

The conversation and actions the night before helped me gain perspective of my relationship. I was beginning to get to a better place. I knew exactly where I stood. N was enjoying the time he spent with me, but I wasn’t a priority in his life. With that, I was no longer going to make N my top priority. For the sake of my own emotional state (and apparently the state of my digestive system), I needed to manufacture some distance between us.

I also needed distractions. If N was leaving the door open for other men to walk through, so would I. That day at work, I fired up Grindr and began once again to cast out the nets. I found a few good looking men to occupy my time. I started messaging them and receiving responses.

One man in particular showed exceptional interest in me. He had an attractive body and seemed to have a level head on his shoulders. We talked about our common interests and occupations. Once I felt comfortable with this man, I proposed we meet. He agreed. We were both slated to finish work around 5:30, so we planned to meet at quarter to 6:00. Work ran slightly late for me, so I didn’t meet up with him until about 6:00. We met at a coffee shop near his apartment. We grabbed a bench outside the shop and introduced ourselves after I apologized for running late. After a few minutes, we both went inside and ordered iced teas. Being the gentleman I am, I paid for us both.

We returned back to the bench outside and had a very nice discussion about where we came from and what we did for fun. He mentioned something about work, and I asked him to elaborate about his job. What he was doing sounded very interesting. Not something you hear every day, and he seemed to be enjoying it. In the middle of our conversation, we were interrupted by a text message on his phone.

Earlier that day, he explained he was planning to meet his workout buddy after we met. This is who texted him. I don’t know if he ever explained he was on a “date,” but in any case, he told me his buddy was getting impatient. He was already at the gym just 2 blocks away. He apologized, but he needed to go. He asked if we could meet up again sometime soon, and I obliged. He was attractive and seemed nice enough, but I certainly wasn’t overly thrilled with the over package. He also prioritized his gym buddy over making a formidable first impression on me, which is never a good sign. Whether we would meet again or not would be decided by the fates. If it seemed to work out, I wouldn’t fight it.

That night I went home and met up with friends on the pier to watch Breakfast at Tiffany’s on the outdoor screen. I informed them about my situation with N and the date I went on earlier. They offered their full support and told me I was doing the right thing. On another positive note, my appetite was slowly returning, so I was able to pick at some of the snacks we all brought.

When I finally got back to my apartment, I showered and climbed into my bed. I didn’t talk to N that night, and he was not coming over. This time when I climbed into bed, my outlook was different. I didn’t have to work that hard to find men who were interested in me and found me attractive. So, no longer did my bed feel big and empty. It felt the perfect size for me to sprawl out and get a good night’s rest.

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What Do You Want From This?

Tuesday came and went, and N and I barely talked. We usually messaged each other during the day at work on Gchat, but that day he wasn’t able to sign on. I was a little suspicious, but he said it happens periodically. I asked him to come over that night, and he said he would come by late. He wanted to go to the gym since he didn’t go the night before and ate and drank a lot at the graduation party.

I needed to further our discussion about what we were doing and where we were heading. I wasn’t satisfied with the current path laid out, so something needed to change.

When he came over, things were awkward. I didn’t get nearly the warm greeting I usually got. He hadn’t eaten, so he ordered a ton of food — Enough to feed three people. He also brought along supplies to smoke. We went out on the balcony so he could smoke. I was still feeling nauseous and not eating much. He mentioned smoking might be a good thing for my nausea. I hadn’t thought of that, and immediately agreed. The idea of smoking in my state wasn’t appealing, but the idea of feeling better sounded great at that point.

I asked him if we could talk about us. I wanted to get to him before his state of mind was altered. He responded, “Can I eat my food first?” Begrudgingly, I agreed, but this was torture for me. I knew it wouldn’t be a quick meal, and this was already eating at me for days. But, I would have to wait longer. We chatted a bit while I watched him eat, but the conversation was superficial and lacked substance.

When he was finishing eating, I was getting very flirtatious with him. I don’t know why I did this. Maybe I thought it was the only way to grab his attention. Maybe I was simply horny. Either way, we were making out in the kitchen and moved things to the bedroom. We had some fun and pleasured each other.

Warning: The following paragraph may be more graphic than you are used to reading here. When we got into bed, I started with the heavy petting and started using my mouth. After a short bit, we switched, and N gave me head. He always told me how much he enjoyed my dick and the taste of it. Whether or not this was just a line I will never know. I noticed immediately he was utilizing some new techniques. Of course my mind began to wonder where these came from? Another man recently perhaps? Either way, it felt great. Normally it took me some time to finish, but not tonight. He was finding all the right spots. I was very close, and right when he went deep, I exploded down the back of his throat. I didn’t make a noise when this was happening. I assumed he knew and that’s why he went deeper. When he pulled back, he asked why I didn’t tell him I was going to finish. I reminded him of an earlier discussion we had in which he told me I never needed to warn him of that. A big part of me did it on purpose. I did it in a power move. It made me feel like I had the upper hand. However, the power shifted almost immediately. He didn’t swallow all of my seed. A good portion was deposited back al over his hand. He motioned as if he was going to slap my chest with his semen-covered hand, but I protested. Instead, he quickly shifted and slid a semen-covered finger across my forehead and proclaimed, “Simba” and began to perform a victory dance around my bedroom. I have never before been so disrespected in my life. This one act solidified in my mind my status as his convenient booty call. No one disrespects someone they care about in this manner.

When we were finished, I ended up, arms folded, resting naked on his chest. Our faces were locked on each other, and I posed my question again, “Now can we talk about us?”

This whole time I felt like such a woman. I was doing all the things a needy girl does in a relationship, and I didn’t like it. But, I didn’t know what else to do. I needed answers, and I needed to know if he still had feelings for me.

So, I started the conversation. I asked, “What do you want from this?” I didn’t get a response. So, I posed another a better-phrased question, “Do you like where things are going?” He responded with a definitive yes. He explained he really enjoys spending time with me and thinks things were progressing well. I then asked, “Do you think we’re moving too fast?” Again, he said yes, and I agreed with him. We only knew each other a month and a half and he was spending almost every night in my bed. I took a lot of the blame here. I should have known better then to put us into that situation considering how new a gay relationship was for him. I asked if he wanted to take a step back, and again he said yes. I agreed and explained maybe we shouldn’t spend so much time together. In my mind, in light of recent events, I was already taking a step back to protect my own feelings. Now, I was going to give him all the space he needed. I was no longer going to be the first to initiate contact. I would respond to his messages, but I was going to give him a lot of space.

I know my hands were not clean at all. I had sex with another man. I justified it in my mind because it was just sex, and it was just to even the playing field for the suspected cheating. I had no emotional attachment to the man. But, in my mind, what N did at the bar was so much worse. I felt he was seeking out another relationship under my nose, not just a physical need. I now know how warped and hypocritical all this sounds, but at the time, it made sense to me.

I then took the opportunity to address N’s time spent on Grindr and at the gym. As he did two days earlier, he told me he was not actively seeking anything. He was just talking, “and not like ‘I want to stick it in your ass’ talking.” I knew better. No one just talks on Grindr. After all, it’s how I met N, and it’s how I met the random hookup. I wasn’t buying his line about just talking at all.

I told him if this was going to work, he needed to be completely honest with me. I could stand not being exclusive (or so I thought), but if that was the case, I needed to be kept in the loop. Looking back, I knew better. I don’t share my men. I knew that was not an arrangement I could be a part of, but I wasn’t ready to let him go.

We talked about how he didn’t need to spend every night with in my bed. He lived across the street. Some nights we could just do our own thing. He needed freedom, and I needed to give it to him if I wanted to keep him.

With that, it was starting to get late. I walked over to my phone and asked what time he needed to get up in the morning so I could set the alarm. He responded, “Well, I was going to go home.” I think my facial expression must have said a lot, because he immediately began to back peddle. He said, “No, but I’ll stay.” I said, “You can go home. You don’t have to stay. It’s fine.” I wasn’t even simply being passive aggressive. He insisted on staying now, and I gave him one more out. At this point, he pulled down the covers and got under the sheets.

The fact that he wanted to leave after our discussion painted a clearer picture for me. This was over. I didn’t fully know it yet, but we were done.

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Sick to My Stomach

Monday morning, I woke to the sound of my alarm clock. The night before, N entertained the idea of taking the day off or working from home, however, this morning, his tone changed. He rushed to get ready for work since he was late, as usual. While he got dressed, everything from the night before slowly bubbled up in my brain. My disposition changed as I realized the hell my relationship was in. He gave me a kiss goodbye, and I gave him a forced smile as he walked out the door. I could tell by the expression on his face he knew how I was feeling.

Besides feeling like someone ripped my heart from my chest, I was feeling even sicker than the day before. My stomach was turning. I had so much work to do that day, but I couldn’t fathom going into the office. All morning, I was back n forth to the bathroom. I also realized sitting at home all day by myself with just my thoughts for company would be THE WORST thing possible for me at the time. The distraction of work would be a good for me, but I just couldn’t do it. I didn’t know if I could make the walk to the PATH, let alone make it through the whole day, so I called in sick.

All morning, I curled up in a ball on the couch watching TV. I tried to eat a bowl of cereal, but after four bites, I felt nauseous. I really did a number on myself that weekend. I drank very heavily both Friday and Saturday well into the morning, as well as a few cocktails on Sunday, which was because I thought a little hair of the dog might help. NOPE!

After a while, I tried to fall asleep, but sadly all I could do was think about N. I started to tear up again, but refused to let myself cry. Finally, out of exhaustion, I fell asleep.

After some time, my roommate’s girlfriend came by. She was packing their things for their move to a new apartment. I needed someone to talk to, so I told her what happened. She gave me her take on the situation and offered advice. I didn’t fully agree with her on some things, but I knew she was right about most of it. It just wasn’t what I wanted to hear. I knew in my brain I needed to break up with him — the guy in which I had zero trust to be faithful to me. But, my heart was not in sync. It still wanted him — this great guy I met and integrated into my life so easily. I was torn. I knew if I just had hard proof, it would be the closure I needed to get over it and end things with him.

Nevertheless, I didn’t think our conversation was over. I didn’t have all the answers I needed, and if I was going to be treated like a second string booty call, this relationship was over. I asked him if he would be around that night since he couldn’t spend the day at home with me. He responded by telling me he completely forgot, until his roommate reminded him, he was going to her brother’s graduation party and would be spending the night. I would not see him for at least another 36 hours.

A big red flag went up in my head. Since I had no trust in him whatsoever, I began stalking him on Grindr. Was he meeting up with a man? Grindr would tell me how far away he was. I knew his job was 6 miles from my apartment. At one point that evening, he was 10 miles away, and then it jumped to 33 miles away. Of course, my brain racked over what the pit stop was. Did he stop at a Grindr friend’s apartment on the way to the party for a quickie? Who knew? This is was I was reduced to.

I was driving myself insane, so I took my frustrations out on someone who was bothering me for some time, Gatsbie69. The week before I met N on Grindr, I met what seemed to be the perfect guy for me also on Grindr. He was 28, and his name was Tim, or so he said. We talked for hours between Grindr and AIM. He emailed me numerous pictures of him and his hot body, but something never quite added up. Long story short, we discussed our lives and interests and matched up quite well. I was excited to meet him, except he always had an excuse why he couldn’t. Over two months, I did some research and came to find how much of a fake he was. I couldn’t figure out what he was getting out of this arrangement, and in my agitated state, I ripped into him that night on AIM. He denied the accusations, but with little fervor. When I finished telling him what an awful person he is, I made sure to make a full report to Grindr for impersonating someone else.

I needed to get out of my apartment. I was driving myself crazy. I texted my friends to see what everyone were up to. I didn’t care what it was. I just needed a distraction. K finally answered. I told her how much of a wreck I was. I explained my lack of appetite during the day (K knows how much I love to eat, so she knew how out of sorts I was), so she invited me over for dinner. I jumped at the invitation. I was at her apartment in five minutes. She made lobster ravioli, and I was able to stomach four of them. So if you’re keeping track, I had four spoonfuls of cereal and four raviolis. But, I couldn’t help it. The thought of food made me nauseous. At this point, I knew it was more than just a hangover. I was causing myself so much emotional distress; it was beginning to affect my digestive system.

I was stronger than this. I didn’t do this. This is not who I am. Why was I letting one boy’s folly tear me down? It was ridiculous! But, no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t shake it.

After dinner, I laid on her couch watching TV with her. We didn’t talk, but it was just nice to be with someone and watching mindless TV. She doesn’t realize it, but she really helped me that day. I haven’t felt that depressed in a long time, and I really needed a friend to be there. Thanks K!

When N posted pictures of the party to Facebook, I knew he actually went to the party. When it started to get late, I walked home. I didn’t want to keep K up, and I knew it would probably do me good to get more sleep.

When I got back to my room, I hopped into bed. My California King never felt so empty as it did that night. I know I didn’t want N in my bed that night, but I also know I didn’t want to be alone either. The nightmarish thoughts that were my love life ran though my head until I was finally able to doze off to sleep.

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Pride Parade

The next morning, N woke up to me staring him in the face. I don’t know what I was looking at, but I was definitely looking for answers. When he opened his eyes, his expression said it all. It was as if he woke up from a bad dream, only to find it was reality. He kept blinking and closing his eyes and then looking back into mine. I’m sure he saw the pain that was there. I could tell he wanted to be anywhere else but there at that moment.

Neither of us said anything for a few moments until I broke the silence. “Can we talk about what happened last night?” He nodded in agreement and sat up in the bed. I kind of ambushed him before he even had a chance to wake up, but what could I do? It was all I could think about, and I wanted answers.

We talked about why he was so secretive about dinner with his friends. He denied being secretive and said he was completely upfront with me. When I pointed out a few discrepancies in the story, he brushed them off as details lost in confusion of planning for ten people. Then I addressed him kissing the guy. He flat out denied it still. He told me he didn’t know the guy and it was a peck on the cheek in passing. The body language between the two from what I saw would say otherwise, but I gave him the benefit of the doubt. I said, even if it was just a peck in passing, why were you talking to him in the first place? Why did you both have your phones out? Was this a guy you met before I arrived at the bar. (The man he kissed was Asian, and sure enough, that Monday, an Asian man friended him and wrote on his Facebook wall. Coincidence? Maybe. Maybe not.)

Here, he pled complete ignorance. He told me he had no idea who the guy was and couldn’t remember talking to him. He said he had a dream about talking to a bouncer about music and couldn’t remember what was reality and what was a dream since he was so drunk the night before. I knew this was bullsh*t. In my mind, I took a big step back. This was the ultimate betrayal of trust. We weren’t exclusive, but at this point, if he couldn’t be straight up with me, what did we have? Now, even more so, I felt like I was just a convenient booty call who lived across the street.

I explained how everything looks from my perspective. He stayed home the day before to primp his hair and his body, and donned sexy underwear to a gay club. What was he expecting to happen? He didn’t know I was going to meet up with him until he was already at dinner, so it wasn’t for me, and I pointed he never did that for me in the past. Was he opening the possibility of going home with another guy that night? He told me he shaved his body because he doesn’t like to take his shirt off with a hairy body and said the underwear was just a coincidence. He is a bad liar, so he stumbled over the underwear part. I had him figured out, and he didn’t know how to handle it.

Even now, after time has passed, I get emotional writing this and thinking about his mindset. I was obviously more invested in the relationship, but I had no idea the extent. The first morning he woke up in my bed, we talked about how much fun we had the night before and how compatible we were. However, he jokingly added, “Just don’t fall in love with me.” I should have heeded those words, and it’s my fault for falling for someone who was not as emotionally available.

The NYC Pride Parade was back, and this year I was much more comfortable with my sexuality. Last year, I got trapped in the middle of the parade with my parents — my worst nightmare. I couldn’t wait to get out of there. This year, I made an effort to attend.

We all woke up late that morning and I felt sick, which threw a wrench in our plans to catch the tail end of the parade before Boston hopped back on a bus to Boston. We grabbed breakfast in Hoboken, and I became very ill, spending a fair amount of time in the restroom. I was only able to eat half my sandwich. I had a lot to drink the night before, so I chalked it up to a hangover.

Afterwards, we journeyed into the city. We walked around a bit, and then said goodbye to Boston.

N asked what I wanted to do and told me he wanted to grab drinks. He contacted some of his friends he knew were in the city. Finally, two coworkers responded, so we decided to grab drinks and lunch with them.

As we all entered the bar, older creepy men were checking N out. One of N’s coworkers pointed out we were both given the up downs. I was a little creeped out by it, but N thrived on the attention. That really turned me off. I was starting to see a side of N I had never seen before, and I didn’t like what I was seeing. At one point, I went to the bathroom. I knew I would be the topic of conversation while I was gone. When we were walking to dinner later, N pulled me aside and told me they asked if we were dating. I wanted to ask him what his response was, but I wasn’t feeling myself. No words came out. He then gave me a peck on the cheek. We were in Chelsea for Pride Weekend. This is the time he could be very affectionate and open, and the only sign of affection I received all day was a tiny peck on the cheek. The guy from the night before got more action than me.

As the day progressed, I became less and less attracted to N. The way he reacted to some of the more disturbing stories recounted at dinner really threw me for a loop. We ordered dinner, and of course, I couldn’t eat it. Between the alcohol and the emotional turmoil, I felt awful. At one point, one of N’s coworkers mouthed across the table, “Are you okay?” I told him I was just really tired from the night before.

When dinner ended, N wanted to continue drinking. It was Sunday night, and I was beat, as were his coworkers. Begrudgingly, he agreed to come back to Hoboken and back to my apartment. When we were one block from my apartment, N reached down and held my hand. It was a very romantic gesture, but too little too late. As we came in sight of his apartment, he released my hand. This romantic gesture lasted all of thirty seconds.

When we got back to my apartment, I decided it was time to tell him about my blog. It was his right to know, and I needed to know if it upset him before I continued. He was shocked to hear about it, but told me he didn’t care and wasn’t going to read it. So, to all my faithful readers, the show goes on. I also came clean about the extent of my relationship with the 40 year-old. I did this because I lied to him about the interaction, but was truthful in my blog. I wanted him to hear the truth from my mouth, not a computer screen. This upset him immensely, which I couldn’t understand. It all happened before I met him. However, he apparently had some background information about this man and was holding it against me. I tried to defend myself, but he didn’t want to hear it. It bothered me that he was so upset, but I couldn’t undo the past.

At that point, we started to watch porn. The computer was out, and I suppose we needed to break the tension. I never did this with Broadway, but I was open to the idea with N. However, he got overly excited by this. He started about how he’d love to be a porn star. Once again, I was losing the attraction to the man in front of me. This was not the guy I fell for. I still had no idea what happened to cause the switch, but something was very different with him.

All of a sudden, we were interrupted by the sound of fireworks. We completely forgot about them. We ran to the balcony to watch. In the middle of all the explosions, I burst out with, “So are we exclusive?”

The next few moments were a blur, but I do know the gist of answer was no. I could understand if we weren’t exclusive up to that point, but I couldn’t fathom not being exclusive going forward.

When he explained his lack of interest in a monogamous relationship, I asked him if he has been sleeping with any other men since he met me. He told me of one guy he hooked up with after our third or fourth date. They exchanged blowjobs, but when this other man told him he was kind of in a relationship, N decided it better to be just friends. (This is also one of the guys he and I were possibly going to meet up with earlier that day.)

I couldn’t understand his rational. If he didn’t want to be “the other man,” why was he willing to seek out another man himself. What we had was pretty great, but he was leaving the door open for himself. If something better came along, he would upgrade. When I expressed this to him, he asked, “Upgrade to what?” I immediately responded, “A better situation.” It was so simple to me, how could he not understand that? I felt so used! He explained he wasn’t seeking out other men, but that didn’t make it any better. I already couldn’t trust him, and I had a pretty strong feeling he was lying.

I felt awful. Like someone stabbed me with a knife. Before the conversation, I knew what his answer was going to be, but hearing him say no broke my heart all over again. I was a shell of a human being.

After we finished talking, we went inside and had sex, and I finally got to have my way with him — All the way this time, not just the tip. It was pretty good too, but ended quickly due to N’s lack of experience.

In my mind, things were beginning to end between us. It’s almost as if that night was our breakup sex. I was pleased to know I got it in at least once before we broke up. I don’t know why, but it felt fulfilling. That’s how I knew it was over. I lost the emotional connection to the man who days earlier I was falling in love with.

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Your Cheating Heart

Saturday, I woke up fairly later in the morning. N was still sleeping in my bed, and Boston was still sleeping on the couch when I started to make breakfast. I fried up some frozen homemade sausage patties and eggs. In the meantime, my two favorite men woke up and joined me in the kitchen. I brewed a pot of coffee, and we sat and ate. Boston and I planned to go into the city for the day. He hadn’t been to the city in ten years. He is in music school and asked to check out the original Steinway store to play on some of their finest pianos. We invited N to join, but his plans included shaving his back and getting a haircut.

When breakfast ended, N and I went into my room and fooled around. I was horny since we didn’t do anything the night before and hungry for real sex. But, N wasn’t 100% cooperative. “I feel bad that Boston is out there alone right now. Ya know, we could let him watch,” he said with a wink and a smile. I just laughed it off and continued with my heavy petting. (I did feel bad for Boston because he got out of the shower and all his clean clothes were in my bedroom.) When I finally realized it wasn’t going to happen, we stopped. N went home to get ready for his day of primping, and I showered to get ready for the city. (I would later come to find N accusing me of hooking up with Boston at this point)

When Boston and I arrived in the city, we came upon a street fair. We walked around and got lunch. Following, I showed him some of the major attractions. It was really nice just relaxing with Boston and walking around the city. He started to feel like a little brother. Finally we arrived at the Steinway and Son’s a half hour before they were about to close for a recital. Boston sat at a few of the pianos and blew me away with his talent. I told him if he ever wanted to impress a guy, he should take him to a piano store and it would be in the bag.

We also stopped into to Saks to visit one of Boston’s old friends. We said hi, and he invited us to a house party and a drag show at a bar on the lower east side, Drom.

On the walk back to Port Authority, we passed a few of the pianos sprinkled around the city. I made Boston sit and play after The Naked Cowboy finished tinkering in Times Square. He ended up being filmed by the man in charge of documenting the project. Overall, I’d say it was a good day for Boston.

When we got back to Hoboken, we got dressed to go out and went to my friend K’s for a bbq. We were skipping the house party, but were going to meet them at Drom.

Likewise, N had plans for the night. Originally, he told me he was going out to dinner with friends and they didn’t know if they were staying in the city or coming back to Hoboken. To me, this meant straight friends. I figured i received no details because he wasn’t out to his- fellow diners. I was wrong. As the day went on, I received more details. He was going to dinner with eight gay men, and then it evolved into them going to Industry, a gay bar.

I asked him if it was an issue if we met up at Industry until Boston’s friends went to the lower east side. He told me to come. When Industry had a long line, they decided to go to Ritz, not my favorite bar. Boston and I finished at the bbq and headed to Ritz. On the walk there from Port Authority, I expressed my concerns about N and the night. I told him how shady it felt since he was being somewhat secretive. When we arrived, N’s phone was dying. I tried calling and texting to no avail. We went into the first floor and couldn’t find him anywhere. We tried upstairs to no avail as well. Finally, he texted me back. He was outside to smoking and trying to find us.

When he finally came back in, he was a drunk sweaty mess. I was way too sober to be there. I get very uncomfortable in gay bars for some reason. So, I ordered four straight vodka shots, two of which were for myself. He began to grind his ass in my crotch, and I liked it! This was the first time we could dance together and not create a total scene. A good portion of the night from then on is a blur for me. I got very drunk so I could tolerate the heat and the club and have blacked out a few bits.

When Boston got a text from his friends, we decided to leave. N told me he was coming with us. I was very pleasantly surprised. Boston and I went outside while N said goodbye to his fiends. When ten minutes passed, and he didn’t come out, I went back into the bar. As I was walking up the stairs, I noticed him talking to someone. Men were passing between us going up and down the stairs, but just then I saw him lean in and kiss this man. My heart shattered into a million pieces. In that millisecond, I felt my world crumbling around me. I know it was just one little kiss, but the fact that he was talking to another man, exchanging numbers and kissing broke my heart. I was crushed.

I didn’t know what to do other than run. I turned and sped down the stairs. He must have seen me at that instant because he chased after me. He tried to spin me around by grabbing my shoulder, but I flung my arms into the air and shouted, “Don’t touch me!” All that went through my head at that point was how many other guys were you grinding on and kissing before I arrived at the bar? We never had the exclusive conversation, but at that point, he was sleeping in my bed almost every night. We were in a relationship, even if it wasn’t defined.

He tried to calm me down on the street, but I was making a scene. I didn’t know what to do. When I get heated I get loud. He asked me to have a conversation and stop shouting, but I couldn’t be calm. I couldn’t be rational. I was enraged. Somehow, he managed to calm me down and convince me it was just a peck on the cheek in passing. Out of my inebriation, I let it go, and we went to the next bar. I felt awful. Boston was standing across the street witnessing this whole scene uncomfortably waiting for us to meet up with his friends at Drom.

In the cab ride, I decided I would pretend it didn’t happen for the night. Boston was only in town until the morning. I would deal with the situation later. I needed to entertain my good friend.

Boston lost his ID the night before, so when we attempted to enter the bar, the bouncer was not cooperative. Finally, when I shoved $40 into his hand, he let us in. After we each paid the $12 cover (on to of the $40), we came to realize Boston’s friends already left. The scene was dead. When I realized there was no chance in hell I was going to have fun the rest of the night, we grabbed a few drinks, and I volunteered to go on the hunt to find Boston a man to have fun with. We asked him what his type was. He explained. Then, N asked him if he was a top or a bottom. (This really had no relevance to the situation, and I think N took advantage to satiate his own curiosity.) When Boston was reluctant to elaborate, N said, “I’m a total top, but I love it when he puts his dick in my ass.” This was news to me. Especially since it never really fully made it there. It was just confirmation he was pumping Boston for information because he had a crush on him.

At one point, N and Boston walked to the bar to get drinks while I went to the restroom. Days later, Boston recounted for me the following exchange: N firmly gripped Boston’s ass and said, “How do you get an ass like that? So tight and firm. I’d really like to put my dick in there.” Had I known this happened that night, I would have left the bar with Boston and that would have been the end of it.

When we were all thoroughly exhausted and bored, we hopped in a cab back to Hoboken. No sooner we were in the door, and N was passed out face down on my bed in his underwear. This raised a whole new red flag in my brain. He was donning the sexiest underwear I’d ever seen him wear. His back was freshly shaved, his chest was cleanly shaved and he had a new haircut. All those are fine, but who was he expecting to see his underwear at a gay club. He spent the entire day getting ready for this night out. He never spent that much time primping to see me. Everything was starting to add up. From the business trip I took on, N was quickly distancing himself and seeking relationship freedom.

I went back out to the kitchen to chat with Boston. He immediately said, “OK! What happened!? What did you see!?” I explained to him the kiss, and in typical fashion, he dealt me the truth. He explained how N manipulated me that night as he watched from across the street. He told me to trust what I saw and trust my own instincts. We talked for at least another hour after that.

N’s phone was sitting there the whole time as well. I picked it up and was about to look through his Grindr messages because I wanted to find the closure I needed to tell him it was over. I couldn’t trust him anymore, but if I had proof, I would be able to get over it myself. Boston convinced me how bad that idea was. I put the phone down without pushing a button. To this day, I still regret not looking. It’s completely out of character for me to not trust someone and read their phone, but it would have delivered me the closure I needed.

At that point, I was exhausted. Physically and emotionally. That night I was delivered a heavy blow to the gut and needed to sleep to forget about it even for one instant. Boston went to the couch, and I begrudgingly went to share my bed with the man I had seen kissing another man. I laid down with my back to him and tears streaming down my face. I was crushed by what happened. I had no idea what to do. I still had very strong feelings for him, but couldn’t turn a blind eye. It isn’t who i am. I’m no one’s fallback or second best. However, I did know it was certainly not going to be a fun morning for him either…

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Boston in the House

The next day, I did my best to forget the Grindr guy quickly. He was just a body I used, and the guilt I felt for using another human being like that was more than I could take. I disgusted myself. Not to mention what I did to N. I betrayed his trust. Something that is devastating to me, because if I’m nothing, I’m honest. I did exactly what I thought he did, and it didn’t make it any better. Just worse.

Much to my pleasure, Boston was visiting for the weekend. We planned it weeks prior and the day finally arrived. It just so happened we picked Pride Weekend in NYC for his visit. Perfect timing.

I left work at 2:00 to pick Boston up from Port Authority. However, his bus didn’t arrive for another two hours. I sat across the street at Schnipper’s Quality Kitchen reading the gay edition of the Village Voice. I found a lot of interesting articles to entertain myself while I waited. Especially the “Why I Hate Being Gay!” article. Once he arrived, we grabbed a quick lunch and hopped back on a bus to Hoboken.

That night, I planned an elaborate seafood dinner to welcome Boston and invited many of my friends, some of which he previously met in Miami. They too were excited to see him again. He’s just a good guy you always want to be around.

After he dropped his bags and got settled, Boston and I walked to the grocery store to get the few ingredients I needed to make the meal that night. I was going all out, with every kind of seafood I could think of. The night before I went to the store and bought so much seafood, the guy gave me a bunch of free things because I “just made his night” buying so much. He is a very nice older gentleman who I believe plays for my team. Boston was a really good friend who was always there for me when I needed an ear to talk off. I was going to treat him like a king while he visited.

When we got back, we talked while I prepared the meal. People slowly started trickling in, and everyone pitched in to help. We were all having fun, and Boston was getting to know a few of my friends. One friend was absent, however. N was nowhere to be found. He knew that I was making this meal. I had been talking about it the entire week leading up to Boston’s visit. Where the hell was he?

Finally, I got ahold of him via text, and he told me he was still at the gym and would be missing dinner. He was going to come by later after he showered. I was a little disappointed in him. I wanted him to be there, and he knew it. We were already on shaky ground with everything that was happening, and this was just one more thing to fan the flames. I told him I would save him some if he was lucky. He said, “I’ll just grab something now, and snack on it after the bar later tonight.” That got me even more annoyed. I felt like I was being treated like a short order cook.

While we ate, the wine was flowing, and following dinner, the spirits were too. Everyone was pregaming before we went off to the bar. Finally, N arrived. We already decided on a bar. My favorite bar, McSwiggans. I’m treated like royalty there. I know every bartender, bounce, and manager, and they take GOOD care of me. Once we were all properly lubricated, we journeyed to the bar.

It was a good scene. Lots of people dancing and having fun, and because I’m well connected there, we didn’t have to wait in line. Some of my friends who were unable to make it to dinner were meeting us at the bar. One of my old roommates was already there with his friend having a blast. I introduced Boston to more of my friends, and we all had a blast.

N and I were particularly flirtatious that night. We had been to this bar together, but it is definitely a straight bar. We normally let our guard down there because we feel comfortable, but that night we were probably obvious. We did everything but kiss right in the middle of the crowd. I was having a good time with him. All the problems drifted away. I was also happy to have Boston finally come visit, and he was having a good time too.

Apparently, N forgot I told him Boston is gay. He began to tell me how perfect a match he would be for his roommate until I reminded him. Then, I think he started to crush on him a little, as well as my old roommate. He kept on talking about how attractive they both are and how perfect my old roommate would be for his roommate as well. He was “just her type.” I tried to brush off the fact that he was telling me how he was attracted to my friends. It was off-putting, but I assumed it was innocent.

After some time, the three gay amigos started to bond. There was a very attractive guy who I had often seen at McSwiggans. We always made eye contact, but never spoke and never exchanged anything of substance. I always wondered which team he played for, and I expressed this to the two other gay men I was with. I felt bad for pointing this guy out in front of N, but he talked about the guys in the gym on a regular basis, so I didn’t feel that terrible. We all have terrible gaydar, but I thought our forces combined would be able to work it out. We couldn’t come to agreement, so we sent in the troops. Boston volunteered to walk past him on his way to the bathroom and cup his ass with his hand while he did. We would hypothesize his sexuality based on his reaction.

When Boston returned from the restrooms, he informed us how much of this guys ass he grasped. “I got a serious handful and a long feel. He didn’t budge an inch. I can’t decide what that means!” So, it would still remain a mystery.

The rest of the night was spent drinking a lot more and dancing our asses off. We had a blast. When the closing bell rang, Boston, N and myself walked back to my apartment. We hung out on the balcony for a while until I fell asleep on N’s shoulder. At that point, he tried to carry me to bed, but only woke me up. I walked to my bed while they walked to get slices of pizza. I immediately passed out again as soon as I hit the sheets. I only know N spent the night because he was in my bed the next morning…

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My Cheating Heart

When I returned from my business trip to Denver, things weren’t as they were before I left. N was slightly distant. His behavior was different. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it, but something was definitely off.

Over the course of our time together, I noticed certain behaviors of his that raised red flags. For instance, he spent a lot of time at the gym. Now, I’ve known gym rats in my time, but I’ve never known anyone who spent quite as much time there as him. Or, at least that’s where he told me he was. Night after night, he’d spend 3+ hours lifting and doing cardio. Normally, I would appreciate such dedication, but after some of the stories he told me about what went down at the downtown Hoboken New York Sports Club, I started to get worried he might be participating (including stories of guys blowing each other in the steam room). I had no evidence or proof he was doing anything wrong, but deep down I had a suspicious feeling everything wasn’t on the level.

I really came to resent that gym. We both belonged to NYSC. I would work out in the uptown Hoboken NYSC which is newer and above ground, and I would ask him to join me. He always declined, telling me he was going downtown. I came to realize why we went downtown so much. He was getting his ego stroked, which was really getting to me. In the beginning I thought it was cute. I would call him things like princess and make noises as if I were blowing up a balloon when his head got too big. But, things started getting out of hand. He would come home from the gym bragging about the guys that checked him out. He would tell me about men slipping notes into his locker. Why he felt the need to share this information is beyond me. I belonged to the same family of gyms, and this NEVER happened to me. We are both attractive men. The difference was he was inviting it. I wasn’t jealous either. I had him. I didn’t need anyone else. I knew something had to be invited in some way from him for this to happen. Finally, I made blatant comments to him about why he went down there. It never fazed him. But if I said he goes there because he liked his ego stroked publicly, he got annoyed with me.

As I was beginning to wake up from the dream I thought was a relationship, I also noticed N spent a lot of time on Grindr. I know that’s how we met, and I have respect for the application, but it’s a death trap. It gets addicting and puts you in the constant mindset of being able to look constantly for something else, even if you’re already happy with what you have. It distances you from the process. If you were seeing a guy for a month and a half, and were walking down the street with him, you wouldn’t give another man the up-down in person. However, if you’re sitting next to the man you’ve been seeing, it’s possible to be looking at other men right in front of you without feeling guilty, which is what he was doing. He answered messages with me standing two feet away. This was a bold and brazen move I did not appreciate at all, even if he was just making friends.I was legitimately worried N was constantly seeking an upgrade model. I too was guilty. I was still talking to guys on Grindr and saying inappropriate things, but I never asked for a number or tried to meet up with any guys. It was more of an entertainment to pass the time.

These, among many other behaviors, created vast doubt in my mind of N’s faithfulness. He was new to the gay world. He didn’t know what he wanted. He just ended a long term relationship shortly before he met me. I was willing to be understanding of a lot of things since he was so new, and I was in his position one year prior. But, at this point, we’d been seeing each other for over a month and a half. For the sake of my emotional well-being, as well as my physical well-being, I couldn’t tolerate infidelity.

I started to get angry and resentful. When a guy from Hoboken started pursuing me on Grindr, I got sucked in. I immediately told him I was involved in a relationship and was purely looking for friends to hang out with. I had no one in my arsenal of gay friends other than Boston and NC. The conversation started off innocent, but then quickly escalated to a sexual nature. I was doing exactly what I accused N of in my mind. But, at this point, I was in revenge mode. I didn’t have proof he was cheating on me, but I knew it in my gut he was. Some of his stories didn’t hold up, and I caught him in lies. When there are inconsistencies, the mind will fill in the blanks and it has a tendency to run wild with possibilities. I also my actions because we never agreed we were exclusive. If he could philander, so could I. So when this guy asked if we could meet at my apartment for a quicky after work, I obliged.

I raced home that day and showered. Shortly after, he knocked on my door and came in. We went into my bedroom and chatted before making out. Then things got hot and heavy. It was quick but satisfying. This guy knew I was in a relationship with a guy across the street, and I told him to be discreet. So basically, I was using him for his body, and that’s it. This was a one-time gig to level the emotional playing field with N in my mind.

This isn’t who I am. I dated Broadway for ten months without cheating on him once. The thought never crossed my mind. And, he was my first gay relationship, just as I was N’s. I hated N for making me feel this way. It’s what drove me to “cheat” in the first place. But he didn’t make me do it. I did it of my own accord. Now, I know technically I didn’t do anything wrong, as we were never exclusive, but I broke my own moral code. I let myself down. I have to take responsibility for that. I did that and no one else. I didn’t like who I was becoming. And, I’m sorry and I was wrong!

That night, N was busy and didn’t spend the night. A big part of me wondered whose bed he slept in that night, but who am I to talk? I was happy, because while I wanted to seek revenge for N’s suspected cheating, I couldn’t fathom him sleeping on the same sheets I had sex with another man on. However, that night I slept on clean sheets in my bed sharing only with my guilt and my regret.

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Emotional Rollercoaster

Whenever I’m seeing a guy, and I go on a business trip, all I can think about is getting home to him. This was certainly the case. It’s not that I wasn’t getting to see N enough. We saw each other all the time. But, when I’m on a work trip and completely stressed out, the thought of a long hug from the man I care the most about gets me through.

Of course when I’m on these trips, I’m traveling with high level executives. I couldn’t give two sh*ts about their wives or their kids. I can only pretend to care for so long. Most of the time, I’m texting and sexting back to my man. In between Keynote presentations and video downloading, I was trying to keep my sanity with thoughts of the guy who made me happy.

Throughout my trip, we made plans for N to come by my apartment to make dinner the night I touched down back in Newark. I was scheduled to land at 9, and knew I would be hungry, especially after the time zone change and jet lag. My roommates would be home to let him in, and when I crossed the threshold, he would be there for me to fling my arms around.

The night before I was supposed to travel back, I got a text from him telling me he would be unable to make dinner for us. He had to work late, and he would be very tired. I was so disappointed. My whole demeanor changed. I’m sure my coworkers were much less thrilled with my attitude and lack of cooperation after that news was delivered. Thoughts of getting to see him were all that got me through the trip. Now, I no longer had that motivation.

After hearing the bad news, I put up a Facebook status, “Delivery of sad news on an already sh*ttastic day is unwelcome… But gotta roll with the punches…” However, over the course of the next day, plans changed. Following my meeting, I got a text from N. I don’t know if my status update made him feel guilty, but I do know that he saw it. He texted me about it apologizing for not being able to be there originally, but he was now able to come by. He just wouldn’t be able to cook dinner. It was a compromise I was willing to make if it meant I would get to see him. I also knew I would be coming back from Denver a very horny man. My status changed to, “Today’s starting to turn out a lot better than expected now… And I’m sitting in the president’s club at Denver Airport…” Of course N liked it.

While I sat in the airport for hours, I played on Grindr. I killed some time in the United Red Carpet Room, but that only got me so far. I wasn’t looking on Grindr to find a guy to hook up with in the bathroom or anything sexual. I just thought it would be interesting to meet a guy from so far off city at the bar for a platonic drink. No dice. One guy responded as I was boarding the plane after my 3 hours spent at the airport.

After I landed, the driver took me back to Hoboken. I was texting N the whole way as my phone’s battery was on its last leg. The problem was, I wasn’t getting a response. Once again, I was very disappointed. Finally, after being home and unpacking for 20 minutes, N finally texted back. He was coming by in a few minutes.

When he arrived, he was distant. I didn’t get the welcome home I was hoping for. I had a stressful two days and I wanted to escape in his arms. But, I shrugged it off, assuming he just had a long day at work. We cleared my suitcase and all its contents off my bed and started making out immediately. We made sure both of us were fully pleased that night and went to bed.

Looking back, I am very suspicious of my time away. I’ve never accused N of any wrongdoing, nor has he volunteered any information, but when I look back, this is the moment I can pinpoint where things seemed to have changed.

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“Are You My Boyfriend?”

After a rocky weekend with N, including him losing his phone and not finding a replacement, I had to start a new work week. I had a big pitch coming up for work and would have to travel to Denver. But, I wanted to hang out with my man before taking off.

I get myself in the habit of buying Groupons and Living Social deals in hopes of cheaper nights out on the town. When I am seeing someone, I tend to buy more because then they become excuses for us to go out to dinner or enjoy something fun and not have to spend a lot of money to do so.

The night before, we planned to use one of my deals at a local spot, Clinton Social. It would be a nice dinner date before I flew off to Colorado for 2 days. It was also nice because it’s where we went on our first date. We had a blast that night and found how much we had in common. Now that we had gotten to know each other, the chemistry was even stronger.

In the evening after work we met up at my apartment and walked to the restaurant. We sat in the back where only one other table was occupied. It was nice having semi-private dining. I get self conscious sometimes about people gawking at two men sharing a meal. I was free to not care. Every once in a while I would put my hand under the table and rub his knee. I wanted him to know how much he meant to me. We talked about our workdays and a few other things while we shared an appetizer. When our meals came, we dug in like two ravenous animals. We both enjoyed our meals and fed samples to each other. It wasn’t quite as romantic as when he cooked for me, but it was really nice dining with such a sexy man. When we finished and paid, we scooted out the back door and walked back to my apartment.

The walk back was very hot, so when we arrived at my apartment, we were both very sweaty. We decided to share a shower. I was still feeling romantic from the dinner date, so I suggested we share a bath instead. I have a very large whirlpool tub, and we’ve talked about using it before. Since it was recently cleaned, now was the perfect time. We hopped in and surprisingly both fit pretty comfortably. After a while, I squirted some body wash into the tub so we would have a bubble bath. We played with the bubbles for a while until we both had enough. We toweled off and hopped into bed.

That night, we finally had full sex for the first time. Since he was so willing to try the first night we met when we came back to my bedroom, I thought it was time I finally give it up for him. Of course it wasn’t without complications. It had been a long time since anything had gone on back there for me, so breaks needed to be taken. Of course condoms are never fun either, but they are always necessary. Once things got more relaxed, we finally found a groove, and I could tell he was starting to really enjoy himself. It was a good night. I felt we were growing much closer every day. After we were both good and sweaty and both substantially pleased, we stopped.

After a few minutes of laying there, N turned to me and blurted out, “So are you my boyfriend?” I didn’t know what to say. A large part of me was thrilled. I had never had a “boyfriend” before since the only other man I had been with romantically didn’t let me call him my boyfriend. However, another part of me was skeptical. We were only dating for a month and a half. Were we there yet? To me, it didn’t particularly matter. No other man mattered to me then. I wasn’t seeing anyone else. And I’ve learned to lose titles a long time ago. All this went through my head over the course of about two seconds. Right then, I said to him, “Do you want me to be?” At that point, I think he realized his verbal diarrhea. The thought was going through his head, but he didn’t really mean to say it out loud. He responded, “I don’t know.”

I decided to let that conversation die. Obviously he wasn’t ready to fully have it, and I didn’t feel we needed to discuss it yet. It was getting late and I still had to pack in the morning, so we dozed off to sleep.

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