CK and I arrived home, and after a night of shirtless dancing together, we were both ready to get down and dirty. Our night out with Old News was a little disappointing and frustrating for me, but I put it all in perspective for myself. CK loved me, and he came home with me. He no longer lived in the same building as Old News, and I hoped they saw very little of each other when I wasn’t around. I had no reason not to trust CK with him. After all, it was he who told me about their failed plan to move in together when Old News professed his feelings for him. We’d only been on a handful of dates at the time, but he felt comfortable telling me about their brief history.
Anyway, back to the good stuff. Warning: The following may be too graphic for some. We were barely in the door before CK started pillaging my body. He was stripping my clothes from my body as we both moved toward the bed. I got him down to his briefs before he shoved me backward onto the bed. He pounced like a jungle cat, and we began to roll around on the bed furiously. We couldn’t keep our hands off each other. They were exploring every inch of the other’s body.
At first he was on top, and then I was on top. Our positions changed by the minute. Things were incredibly passionate, and what ensued was the best sex we’d had to date. It was raw and sexy, passionate and dirty. We were both enjoying ourselves immensely, climaxing in turn.
We laid next to each other as beads of sweat ran across our bodies. The sex was HOT! We were both exhausted since it was late, and we had a long night at the club. We passed out like rocks until the morning.
When we woke in the morning, we had a busy day ahead of ourselves. We got up, showered and made our way out the door. I was starving. While CK was on his cleanse, drinking a shake, I needed real food. Since I was watching what I ate, we stopped at Subway on the way to his friends’ apartment. I wasn’t exactly looking forward to this after the way his friend treated me, however, I was going to be the better man. I would kill him with kindness.
When we arrived, I got a tepid welcome from his friend. Hip, however, was thrilled to see me and gave me a big hug. We sat and chatted a bit about our plans for the rest of the day. Although his friend bought he and his boyfriend tickets to Matinee that evening, he decided not to go. Everyone else tried to convince him to come, to no avail. He wasn’t budging. Hip, on the other hand, wasn’t planning to go since it wasn’t that long ago he had hip replacement surgery. With some gentle prodding, we convinced him to join us. I was utterly thrilled. I needed a bit of a security blanket for this event. I was freaking out a little inside, and having another friend there would be key to my sanity. It also worked out for Hip and I because we were able to buy the unused tickets, but that’s another story for another time.
CK and I were on a schedule. Unbeknownst to me, CK had volunteered us to be a part of some street team for Matinee. I had no idea what he’d gotten us into. I already wasn’t entirely comfortable with the weekend ahead, and he wasn’t making it easier by surprising me with activities.
We made our way to Columbus Circle to meet up with a friend of a friend of someone he chatted with on Twitter. I still had no idea what we were doing, and CK wasn’t even waiting for me to cross the street. I stood on one side of the street watching him walk away completely oblivious to my lack of presence as he ran in front of cars talking on his phone. I was really starting to get annoyed. He wasn’t taking my feelings into consideration at all.
About 30 yards later, he realized I wasn’t there and finally turned around to look for me. By then, I was approaching him after the light changed. I don’t think my faced could have shown more apathy than it did in that moment. I asked him what we were doing and who we were looking for, and finally I got some answers, vague as they were. “We’re looking for a bunch of hot boys handing out flyers. We’re going to help hand out flyers or something,” he said. We searched all over Columbus Circle for these guys, even venturing underground to Equinox.
Finally, we managed to meet up with them. There was an adorably mismatched couple, a black diva and a Brooklyn hipster. While we waited for them to get their act in gear, I stood analyzing the couple. I was a little fascinated by them. They obviously both worked out a lot, but one was an energetic, tiny guy, and the other a soft-spoken, burly bear. I was very curious who was the top and who was the bottom, but I dared not ask.
Apparently, I was going to fully embrace the essence of pride. The plan was for us to canvas Hell’s Kitchen, handing out flyers to passersby while we made a ruckus to draw attention. We were outfitted with t-shirts, buttons, hats, large signs, water guns, flyers and more. I took a t-shirt and followed everyone else’s lead, customizing my shirt by ripping and tearing it. I felt very self-conscious, but I tried to embrace it. There was no getting out of this, so I needed to make the best of it. I took a large stack of flyers and started handing them out to every guy we passed and placed them on every surface I could.
Along the way, we made a few stops at stores and made some new friends. I was actually starting to have fun with my new street brigade. The burly bear still fascinated me. This wasn’t because I had a crush on him or anything. I’m just a people watcher, and I was noticing how shy this big beefy dude was. I also learned his boyfriend was one of the dancers on the stage the night before at XL. We stopped at Tagg to say hi to some guys selling apparel on the sidewalk in front of the store. They told us they had a free open bar and invited us to take advantage. I wasn’t ready to drink yet, but I thought maybe it might loosen me up.
We continued down Ninth Avenue, handing out flyers and stopping in more stores. While in Universal Gear, CK fell in love with a pair of booty shorts. The rest of the crew was ready to keep on keeping on, but in true fashion, CK was stopping to try them on. He decided he “absolutely NEEDED” to wear them to Matinee that night. Naturally. I went outside to hang with the rest of the crew while he stood in line to pay, telling them they could move on, and we’d catch up.
Eventually, CK emerged elated, and we were on our way. Hip joined us for the last leg of our journey. We had fun together, messing around until we reached our final stop.
I am delighted to say, I actually had a good time promoting. Normally, that sort of thing is my biggest nightmare. But, by embracing the experience fully, I was able to let go and have fun; I simply stopped caring!
When we finished our promotion journey, we made our way back to CK’s apartment to get ready. Little did I know what exactly that would entail, but I knew the night was only going to get crazier and more stressful from there.
That night, when we got home from the lake, we both collapsed in a pile on my bed. We barely had any energy left in us. We had a blast on the lake all day, followed by a belly full of lobster, clams and more. It was one of those summer days we will never forget.
We laid cuddling on my bed for some time. Both of us had our eyes closed. Regardless of how tired I was, my restraint was no match for my libido. Warning: The following may be too graphic for some. Holding CK in my arms and feeling his body against mine immediately made me hard. I couldn’t help myself, and I couldn’t keep my hands off his amazing body.
What started as innocent kissing quickly escalated. Slowly, but surely, we were stripping each other of articles of clothing until we were embracing and pulling our naked bodies tight against each other. We began to find our rhythm, and the grinding ensued. There was no penetration at this point; we were sensually rubbing key components against each other.
We couldn’t control ourselves, as was common for us. We began rolling and wrestling on the bed. One minute, I was on my back, and in the next minute, he was. The passion was off the charts. We hadn’t had foreplay this hot in quite some time. Eventually, he whispered in my ear, “I want you inside me.” “Yea?” I responded. With that, I opened the top drawer of my dresser and pulled out the lube. I worked over his areas while I teased myself with my lubricated hands. I rested his legs against my chest and shoulders while he guided me in. I could see the ultimate love in his eyes. As I slowly slid inside him, they got wide with excitement.
With every thrust, the love-making grew more passionate. Two things can be truly said about my sex-life with Superman: We have both truly become versatile in bed, and we both fully own the positions we find ourselves in. Whether I top or he tops, it’s epic, and the same goes for bottoming. I love the synchronicity of this type of sexual relationship. We are both getting every experience out of our sex. There is nothing holding us back from fully enjoying each other’s body. Neither of us is pigeon-holed in a position either. When we get into bed, neither of us has any idea who position we’ll be taking. It all happens naturally, and it’s simply epic!
We continued some time before I finished expelling my seed. From them on, Superman was my whole world. My only concern was getting him off, and without pause, he was finishing right after me. I reached down to the bottom drawer of my nightstand and grabbed him a towel. It was just what we needed after a long day on the lake. I was so horny all day staring at his package in his bathing suit. CK is no small man, trust me. It’s absolutely gorgeous, however, it’s torture to see the outline of it through his white trunks without the ability to do anything with it because we’re in public. It’s such a tease. All that built up to equal our romp in the sack that night.
We both laid there drifting in and out of consciousness until we were both out cold. We woke a few hours later. We had to head into the city. CK didn’t have things with him to go to work on Monday morning, so I packed a bag for the following day, and we made our way into the city.
That night, we slept soundly. I fell asleep in his arms, my favorite place to be. Nothing mattered when I was in his embrace — Nothing besides him.
The following day, while at work, CK texted me to see if I would be interested in going to see a performance piece entitled Confessions of a Cuban Sex Addict. At first glance, the joke was there to be made that it was somewhat autobiographical of CK, but I resisted. I wasn’t entirely feeling it. CK was going through a cleanse, and I was strictly watching my diet in solidarity. As a result, we were both particularly cranky. But, when he posed the idea of going (with free tickets) as research for my blog, I agreed to go.
I arrived at the theater earlier than CK. I waited outside for him to arrive. I greeted him with a big kiss, and we made our way inside just in time. I had no idea what we were getting ourselves into, but when the performance began, I was entranced. It was incredibly erotic and intriguing. The story struck a chord deep within me. I had never experienced anything like what the author had gone through, but I knew that vulnerability of sharing one’s story with the public. As he continued his monologue, the lead encouraged us to follow him on the short journey deeper into the performance space itself. It was incredibly raw (and by raw I mean emotion, not literal sex). We both thoroughly enjoyed ourselves. We met the author on our way out, and we thanked him for sharing his story with us. We were both a little taken aback by what we just witnessed. It was a very powerful performance piece acted out by incredible thespians. You could feel the raw emotion throughout the entire performance.
We hopped in a cab since we were quite far from his apartment. Along the way, CK and I started kissing, and I bit CK’s lip harder than I meant to. I have to admit, I did mean to bite him, just not that hard. He had been biting me for some time, and I hated it. I told him, yet it continued. Because of this, I decided I would do it back to him until he stopped. I meant to be playful, but he took it completely the wrong way. He flipped out on me, and it was more than I could handle. I blew up at him. He had a lot of nerve. He was constantly biting me, and every time I protested. Now, he was getting a taste of his own medicine, and it turned into a huge ordeal. I couldn’t stomach the hypocrisy, and I wasn’t going to let him get away with it this time. I let him have it. We argued the whole way back to his place, and the argument continued on the sidewalk in front of his building. He was not understanding where I was coming from. He just kept making excuses for why it was okay. This wasn’t something I would just drop for the sake of arguing. I wanted him to stop biting me. Finally, I got through to him, and he understood how much I hated it. I also apologized for the blowup. We were both at fault and both needed to apologize.
The one good thing about CK and I is that we can fight and move on. I never fought with the other guys I dated, but looking back in hindsight, it was not a sign of a strong relationship — It was a sign of the lack thereof. We fought, but we never went to bed angry with each other. We hash it all out, and we move on. I was actually happy to see us fighting periodically. No one truly enjoys fighting, and I rarely go picking fights I don’t really care about, but I realized we fight because we care. It was healthy. It was then I knew I was on the road to a long and healthy relationship.
Nothing really puts stress on a relationship quite like a move. One year had gone by for CK in The Big Apple. He moved to the city in a hurry, finding a nice apartment in a convenient neighborhood, but because of the rush, he ended up paying more than one would like living in New York City. There are plenty of things to see and do in the city that never sleeps, so spending all your money on rent is no fun!
He decided when his lease was up, it was time to find new living quarters. This was quite stressful, not only for him, but also for me. Selfishly, he lived two avenues and a few blocks from my office. I could easily walk there, and commuting to his place from mine in Hoboken was a snap. Chances are, it wasn’t going to get any easier.
When he told me he started looking on the Lower East Side, I was nonplussed. I knew it was going to be a bit of a hike to get to his place every time I came to see him. The Lower East Side is only convenient to get to from one place — The Lower East Side. But, in the end, this wasn’t my decision. I was there to be supportive while he went through the stress of trying to find a new place.
When the search expanded out to include Brooklyn, I nearly had a panic attack. Screw hike — Brooklyn was going to be a day’s journey to get to from Hoboken. I was petrified for our relationship. I wasn’t sure at the time if our relationship could survive the stress on a day-to-day basis.
Finally, after his mother flew to NYC to help him pack and find a new apartment, he landed in a sweet spot. I was thrilled with the final outcome. He managed to find a room in an apartment in a managed building in Hell’s Kitchen with two roommates. I had experience in Hell’s Kitchen. Broadway lived in Hell’s Kitchen, and I was able to walk to work from his apartment. It was also very convenient for me because Port Authority wasn’t far from his apartment, so I could use the bus system. It was the quickest way to travel when heading to or from that part of town. I felt very comfortable in HK as well. I’d taken more than a handful of dates to that neighborhood. The gay population was large enough that no one looked twice at two men holding hands or sharing a kiss.
When the time came to move, I wanted to run and hide. I’d dealt with CK’s attention span before, but nothing of this caliber. I thought it nearly impossible to keep him on task so this move would go as smoothly as possible. Even with the help of his mother, there was still a lot of work to be done. CK isn’t the best planner in the world either. While the idea of booking moving men a few weeks in advance or gathering boxes crossed his mind, the action and follow-through never occurred.
I was trying to be patient. He was going through a lot. I was going to help him, not out of obligation, but out of love. He needed me, and I was going to be there for him, however, it was going to take a lot of strength and biting my tongue to get through this.
I agreed to help him pack things up Thursday after work. I had limited time, however, because I had a volleyball game that evening. I left work as soon as I could and arrived with flat boxes for him from my mail department. We made a lot of progress, but it certainly wasn’t without a lot of comments. I do have to say, it went a lot better than I expected. It certainly could have been a lot worse. Luckily I had a built-in time limit, and the time came for me to head back to Jersey.
We both took the following day off from work. After many failed attempts to get a truck, borrow someone’s car, book movers, we decided to try to rent a Zipcar. This of course wasn’t going to work because there is an application period. Although we were able to walk over to one of their offices in New York City, we had to wait for him to be approved to rent a car. We wasted most of the rest of the afternoon trying to figure out what to do and lying around. After growing incredibly frustrated with the poor use of our time, I decided to stop worrying. I tried to keep my frustration to myself. While I was going to be there to offer my support, in the end this wasn’t going to be my problem. If he drug his feet long enough, this was either going to become his huge hassle or it would increase his financial burden.
There were rides in the back of a van with boxes and potholes. There were things packed at the bottom of a box only to be torn open again. There were enough dust bunnies to start a farm. The list goes on…
Of course, there were copious amounts of arguing. We rarely agreed on anything, but we did both make an effort not to rile the other up. When we finally got all his things in a rented U-Haul van, we had to wait outside in the cold/drizzle until his roommate came downstairs to let us into the elevator bank. His roommate still hadn’t given him the key, so we had yet one more person to rely on to be responsible.
After a little blood, a lot of sweat and almost some tears, we managed to get everything into his apartment. Beyond that, we managed to get all of his belongings into his bedroom. The only thing that saved us was the fact that he didn’t have a bed yet. He left his old bed behind in the previous apartment and hadn’t ordered a new one yet. Of course, it would take some time before things got unpacked. The lack of bed also meant we had to head back to Hoboken every night so we had somewhere to sleep.
It was a very stressful weekend, but in the end, I wouldn’t trade it for the world. Sure, it could have gone smoother, but in the end, everything worked out. I was happy to help my man, and I know he truly appreciated my help. And the fact that we survived something as stressful as this told me we could survive just about anything.
I nailed down plans to meet Connecticut Cutie after work that Tuesday night. He told me he’d be in my neighborhood, so it would work out well.
He ended up running late from dinner with friends, so I stayed in the office and did a little blogging until he was ready. When I go the call that he was on the corner, I went down to meet him.
My favorite date spot in the city lately has been The Breslin, so I suggested we go there. It’s a short walk from my office, and we had great flirtatious conversation on the walk there. He joked about going to a psychologist for mother issues, and I made more than a few Oedipal comments in jest. I told him I don’t go to a therapist nor need one because I have free therapy sessions all the time. I use my friends for that service. I’m sure they all just love to hear all about my problems and issues, but hell. What are friends for?
We also talked about our days at work. I had a very easy day involving a lot of personal work with just a little professional work.
When we got to The Breslin, it was very crowded. I couldn’t believe how many people were there on a Tuesday night. We had a hard time finding a seat, so he ordered drinks at the bar while I tried to hold some ground in the corner. I was standing next to some of the most obnoxious men I’d ever met. You could tell they were a real “boys’ club” type, making lewd comments. I knew it was only a matter of time before I heard the f@ggot term thrown out. I decided to move away from the group before they p*ssed me off more.
I ordered my usual dark and stormy, and he followed my lead. He’d never had it before, and I told him it was a good winter drink. He tasted it, and was happy with his selection.
FInally a table opened up, so we jumped on it. Space was limited, so we sat with our legs intertwined. This was good body language once again and made it easy for a little leg touching. Our conversation was going very well. We were both telling stories and laughing a lot. I told him about how much I get into Halloween and started showing him pictures from Facebook. He was shocked because he never got into the holiday. It was always something haphazard and last-minute for him.
Throughout the course of the night, there was a lot of leg touching. It was nice because we could flirt in this way without making a spectacle of ourselves. The only people who had a view of this were the bartenders, and I didn’t care if they noticed. It was mutual. As much as I was rubbing his legs, he was rubbing mine.
When he needed to use the facilities, I told him how to get there. I joked about the long journey he’d have to make through the basement of the hotel. He looked at me like I was insane. I equated it to backlot Disney. When he returned, he detailed his journey through the underground labyrinth he encountered. He detailed the myriad of characters he passed on his journey and joked about how strenuous it was. I liked his sense of humor. It was all something I would say. We were meshing well.
However, I was still having a hard time getting past the flamboyance. I had a feeling he was holding back some as well. I liked the guy quite a bit, but I also wanted a real man, not a man who acted in a feminine manner. The distance thing was still in the back of my mind. The vetting process was far from over. I’d have to continue to see where things went and evaluate if it was worth the extra effort.
I hadn’t eaten any dinner, so I ordered some fries from the bar. We joked about working out and my being fat as of late. I know I’m far from fat, but there is a certain level that is fat for me. I don’t like it, and it makes me want to eat better and work out more.
After three dark and stormies, when I brought it to his attention, he realized he needed to make his way to the train. If he missed it, he’d have to wait another hour for the next. I told him I’d walk him half way — Basically back to my office. He needed to stop at the bank along the way, but we also really needed to hustle. When we got to my office, I told him I’d walk him one more avenue before heading home. When we got to Fifth Avenue, we embraced on the corner. We started kissing, and this quickly turned into a bit of a makeout session. He was a great kisser, so I didn’t mind one bit. I was starting to worry he’d miss his train. We’d already joked about how his parents extended his curfew for the evening. I knew they’d be royally p*ssed if he made them pick him up at midnight.
It was comical as we both acknowledged the other’s hardon as we pulled back. We were both really enjoying each other’s company. I said goodbye, and he sped off to Grand Central Station.
I made my way home, and made it a point to text him and tell him how much I enjoyed myself that evening. I learned he did in fact make the train and would get home at a decent hour. He responded, and I could tell he was really into me. I needed to make a decision fast, or I would risk really hurting him. But, I still wasn’t sure. I had a lot to think about. I would be traveling to Chicago for work, so this would allow me time apart and time to think about what I really want.
We talked about possibly getting together over the weekend, possibly in Hoboken. I knew once that happened, things were going to escalate fast. I already knew he had a great body from his revealing pictures on a4a. I knew he had a healthy sex drive, so that wouldn’t be an issue. I just needed to decide if the flamboyance thing was something I could get over — Something I could either look past or fully embrace. It wasn’t my style, but after all, I was constantly expanding my horizons…
Sunday afternoon, I tried to see if Smiles would want to do something fun the following day since I didn’t have to go to work. Sadly, he had work to do. He was trying to build up a company from scratch, and it is a lot of hard work, so I understood. What I didn’t expect was he would be busy he wouldn’t be able to find the time to pick up the phone and call or text.
Monday passed with me planted on the couch watching TV all day while surfing adam4adam.com and reactivating my Grindr account. I was just seeing what was out there, but as the afternoon progressed, I started to think toward the future while examining the past.
I realized I wasn’t happy. I equated my relationship to the struggle of Sisyphus, a king punished by being compelled to roll an immense boulder up a hill, only to watch it roll back down, and to repeat this throughout eternity. I was constantly putting work into the relationship only to find I wasn’t receiving much benefit from it.
I had given Smiles more than his fair share of chances to finally woo me, and he failed. I enjoyed his company, and he was a very nice, successful, good-looking man, but the time had come to move on. It just seemed he wasn’t that into me, and I realized I deserve better. Since I had been on the journey to this conclusion for quite some time, I wasn’t that broken up about it. I’ve had varied reactions to the end of relationships in the past. I moved on with closure after my mutual breakup with Broadway. I had slight some minor cardiac scarring after I ended things with San Francisco. I was a wreck when things went south with N — Losing ten pounds in a week (Not proud of that).
This epiphany wasn’t all that earth-shattering for me. Things had been on the decline for some time. This certainly didn’t come out of the blue, so the blow was lessened.
I actually started to get slightly angry about things. I felt used. I recalled asking Smiles on our first date why he was on Grindr, and he had mentioned he was lonely. I realized I was someone to pass the time for him. I was someone he could go to dinner with so he didn’t have to eat alone. I was someone he could have the occasional romp in the sheets when he was in the mood. I was a seat warmer. He never had any plans to forge a relationship with me, and this made me really feel used.
I wanted more. I deserved more. And I was going to find more. I started searching once again on a4a and Grindr. These are clearly not the best place to find Mr. Right, but it couldn’t hurt to try. Once again, it was just going to be a lot of work.
On top of it all, our sex-life was minimal. As a result, I was horny. I was hungry for some good sex. Over the summer when I was having my wild time, I felt I started to really hone my craft. I had numerous guys constantly hitting me up for seconds, thirds, and more. It was great for my ego, and I craved a really good romp in the sack.
That’s when I turned my efforts toward Grindr. I wanted to find a local guy with a hot body. I knew it wouldn’t be easy from past experience, but maybe some new hotties moved into the area in the three months I’d been away. I started talking to one guy for quite some time. We even started to Skype with each other while I watched TV. He lived very close and had a really nice body. He was Asian, which doesn’t quite get my engine roaring so there he wasn’t a relationship prospect, but we could at least start on a friendship. We face-time chatted most of the evening. I gave him full disclosure on the situation. We even discussed him coming over to hook up, but in the end I decided to be good.
Afterall, I still hadn’t officially ended things with Smiles yet. It wouldn’t be right. I’d already betrayed that relationship once, I didn’t need to do it again, not matter how resolved I was about its end.
I got an offer from a man I’d had a tryst with in the past. He begged me to come to his apartment, but it was cold outside, and it was getting late. I had work the next day, and I needed to go to bed. I told him I’d take a rain check.
My new friend went to bed, and I continued to figure out a way to satiate my libido. I figured I would hit up some old friends in my Skype contact list. One of the sexiest men happened to be online. He lived in South America on an island, and I wanted to do bad things to his body. It was amazing. I loved camming with him. The only issue was he had a big thing for me. He always begged me to be his boyfriend, no matter how many times I told him it couldn’t happen because we are so far away. He begged me to come visit, but I told him I couldn’t afford the flight. I wasn’t about to fly to South America for a booty call. But if he lived anywhere close, I would have been over there in a second!
I convinced him to have a little fun on camera until I finished. As usual, it sapped all the energy from my body, and I jumped into bed and dozed off without a thought left in my head.
Sunday morning, I woke up alone. It’d been a few days since I saw Smiles. I wished he’d been with me that night, but he was at a party in the city — God knows what he was up to.
I was feeling a little down. I wasn’t happy with how things were looking between us. Every time I seriously doubted his investment in our relationship, he would do something to show he still cared, but shortly after, I’d step back and wonder if it was worth it.
I had a few errands to run that I put off the day before — Mainly getting food for the week at the grocery store. I wanted to be as efficient as possible, so I took the motorcycle out to run my errands. When I finished, I came home and crashed on the couch with my laptop and a few movies.
I stayed there until the sun went down. I got up only to get food and use the facilities. I wasn’t in a funk, but I was feeling rather lonely.
Shockingly, Smiles called me late that night. It was around 10:30, and he was making his was back from the final party. It was in Connecticut, and he decided to take the Mustang out. He was just making his way back to the garage when he called. It was sweet of him. He wanted to hear all about my weekend and wanted to tell me a little about the party. I was still a little sour grapes having to hear about a party I wasn’t invited to. I knew if the shoe was on the other foot, I wouldn’t have thought twice about inviting him. I would have wanted to spend the time with him.
He also told me he was beginning to get sick. It was no wonder considering he was up until 4:00am three nights straight. He’s no spring chicken and he certainly can’t party and hang. I told him my concern, especially since it wasn’t that long ago he had surgery. Suggested a few remedies to help him feel better.
However, I still found it sweet of him to call just to chat. I was very pleasant and cordial, but I was also in the middle of a movie. When the conversation hit a lull, I told him I was going to get back to the movie I was watching. It was something he’d done when I’d called him before, so I didn’t feel guilty. I started to get the feeling he called because he was lonely and bored on his way home. He’d probably made all his business and friendly calls for the night on the drive, and he thought to circle back with me before the weekend was over. I was annoyed at the thought, and I didn’t want that to come across on the phone.
He detailed for me the long journey home ahead of him. All I could think in the back of my head was, “Well… You could have had company if you’d just asked.” He was making me feel like a complete “woman.” I hate feeling like that. It wasn’t that I was being emotional, but I felt clingy and like I was chasing him — Not a good feeling.
We said goodbye. I went back to my movie, and he made his way to the subway to head home.
When he got home, he sent me a text to let me know he made it home. Here is a clear indication something is wrong in your relationship — When you get that message, and you think to yourself, “Who cares?”
Things needed to change. I didn’t like what I was becoming or what was happening. Change was inevitable…