Everything about him made me curious and hungry to know more.
The ease, with which he did everything, was only on a surface. I felt with my gut just how much he was hiding underneath his beautiful smile, sexy dance moves, and a clever tongue. So skillfully. Such a talented performer. He could fool the whole world, even himself. Not me.
I recognized myself in him immediately. The moment I saw him. I felt him first. In the nightclub, where I was doing my thing - being me, when I felt his gaze. I knew someone was on me. It happened before, and this feeling is not to be compared to anything else. It’s physical and profound. It’s sickening and heavy, and direct. You can’t just make it up. It’s like being hit by a car. You know it’s happening…
I turned my head and saw his eyes. His gaze penetrated my whole being. He was watching me move and smiled. I started watching him watching me across the dance floor, and he then too, moved to the beat of the music. We moved the same. It was sultry, sexy, sickening, and arousing. He called me with his fingers to come over to him. I did’t budge. Any other situation, Id be insulted. Never ever I went for a call like that, or a whistle, or a grab of the ass. I did this time. I had no choice. I had to. Hard to explain.
He introduced me to his friend, asked my number. We met again. He was out of my league. Too beautiful, too smart, too young, too gay. It didn’t matter. I needed to be around him. I wanted to know him - he was the most fascinating human I’ve ever crossed my path with. Respect. That’s what it was from the beginning. Respect for how well he plays the role. I saw myself from aside in him. Wow. I recognized the signature. I met me…
He moved like air. Everybody noticed him, and he loved it, but didn’t pay any attention. He had to be noticed and needed it. Not wanted. Needed. But, of course, he'd never admit it.
Fast forward, a year later, when I received that phone call in the middle of the night, I was scared. To death. I felt it was a close call, but couldn’t let him understand I knew it. He needed me to be strong. He relied on me. So I was. I had no right to be scared or weak.
“Come” he said quietly, but firmly. “Please, come”. That was all I heard.
Like a fish out of the water grasping for another chance to stay alive… I knew there was no time to waste.
“I will” - all I could come up with in the moment. How? When? I can’t…
Everything else became secondary in the moment. He still were, out there, in a different state of the country and mind. Not all was lost. Hope. What a helpless 4 letter word…
Yes, I relied on hope. A lot. I could, and I should, and I would. That was all that kept me around for this long, anyways. Hoping to have enough hope, to hopefully, one day, to know what I were so hopeful about and for….
Knowing. That was what I found myself being that night. Being aware of my knowing. That was different. I knew I would. It didn’t matter how. I knew in that moment I were to hug him and tell him it was gonna be alright. Doing that for him was equally vital as doing the same for me. I needed that that night. I was close to giving up on life, not him. We both were…
So I did. Angels, they are watching and they simply are. Angels know what’s right and needs to be done. Thank You, angels. You are loved. Dearly.
So, I did. I came. I came home. I flew on the wings of knowing everything may still be. For him. For me.
Landing was the most interesting part. Stepping out of the plane, I actually felt the ground, for the first time in my life. The humid air caressed my skin, and the sun burnt my cheeks. I felt present. People’s voices were loud and clear, I noticed the rush of the airport, like never before. I landed.
My body, over sudden, became solid and heavy. I arrived. The realization of my being, made me shake uncontrollably. I rushed outside to smoke a cigarette, to get back to being high. I needed to get back to almost existing, but it didn’t work. Smoking made me nauseous…
And then I saw him. No, I felt him, with my back being turned to him. I felt his gaze, like back then, in the club. I turned around, the wind picked up my hat from my head, which I grabbed, just on time, and I smiled back to his beautiful Procter&Gamble smile. It was like an electric shock, which penetrated me to the bone. I looked around to see.. my reflection.
Like a child opening a christmas gift, like a very first kiss, like a soldier returning back to loving family home after a long time away, I was walking to his red truck. Same feeling. All the same.
I jumped on the front seat, leaned to hug him, without paying any attention on a huge sign on the front window with my name on it. Details. He was always big on the details. How sweet. He pointed out to the sign a bit later. He always made me feel so special, in such small, settle ways. The little things in life…
He grabbed my hand and wouldn't let go. We talked and laughed about nothing. He was saying something about the city. He was no good at being a guide. I didn't care much for where we were or what we were going. And nothing made sense. And everything did. I was simply happy to be.
He took me to a coffee shop and forgot his name when was asked at the counter. Silly. I couldn't help him either.
For a longest time, I couldn't catch my breath, neither could he. We both wondered for how long this would last, but both didn’t care. It lasted for the whole time I was there. Two and a half days.
On the second day, the storm got quiet. It was the 4th of July. How strange, the day of some sort of a freedom. Liberation. Literally.
We shared a huge bed in a penthouse of Magnolia Hotel in Dallas, after he asked me if I wanted him to give me some space for a night. He knew I didn’t like to sleep with anyone. When he stayed at my place in Hollywood a year back, I gave him my bed and slept on the floor myself. That’s how I do things. This time I told him I didn’t want to spend a moment without him. Which was true. Sleeping together wasn’t a big deal. I respected his privacy, as much as he did mine. But I found it was so wonderful to hear him breathe, feel his body next to mine, and to know he was. Waking up was exciting - to see him sleeping, and know he were ok. I felt like a mother, watching him sleep in the morning. Only mothers might have that feeling. I thought. I couldn’t compare, but my instinct told me so.
I didn't ask or thought of anything, when he stated, from the beginning of my visit, that he wasn’t going to take advantage of me, that he respected me, and that he loved me more than a sex object. I was surprised, for I never even thought of any of this with him. He said he wanted to be different from all the others. And different he was...
I loved him beyond all of the human casualties, without clear understanding why or how. I simply let it be. From the beginning. Whatever it was. No questions asked. Unconditional. Unexplainable. Not like anything I ever knew…
We were like kids, and the kids we were. That weekend. The kids we were never given a chance to be. He and I were robbed of a childhood experience, and that united us. After he told me few things about his life, I understood - just how much he and I were alike. I understood him better, but still not enough to know who he truly was. He was still a mystery to me.
We ran under a warm summer rain, that quickly traded places with the sunshine. We took a trolley around downtown, and watched the fireworks in the pitch dark in the distance, away from the city. Thanks to some very sweet people, we got to do something he'd talked for a longest time - taking pictures together. Silly dream. But I supported. Why not? Even though, I am insecure in front of the camera, and he intimidates me in many ways, we did it. I did it for him. In the process I learned, that I did it for me in the first place. I am full of shit and can now see it clearly.
Thank You, angels, for You are... It's like, I was standing absolutely naked in front of a stranger, but more naked than skin. Like, he knows me better than I do. That was the feeling I realized I always had around him.
Then he drove me back to the hotel. He, who loved the nightlife, party, dance, people, loud noises, alcohol and everything that happens after, being wild and free. Same man drove me back to the hotel to rest, because I was tired.
That surprised me, made me happy, and mad. He, actually, was thinking about my comfort and peace. He cared about me… We drove back, and he was holding my hand, kissing it from time to time, and smiled. I was out of my body, mind, and life. I was wide awake, asleep, and dreaming. None of it made sense or felt real. I asked him about what was next, after I woke up. He said: “ It’ll hurt, and You gonna cry.” Just like that.
I heard him, but couldn't understand, nor I wanted to. I kept looking at his milling eyes and his beautiful mouth, shaped like a half moon. What a beautiful dream….
The next day we went to the movies. I tried to teach him how to mediate and breathe properly, as I myself needed to remember. He said something silly, and I slapped him across his beautiful face, which I had never done before, no matter how much I was insulted or the other person deserved it. That shocked and surprised me. The limits of my passion, I had control over no longer. How could I? Wow. I smacked him pretty hard. And wasn’t ashamed or sorry. That was very new to me. I was learning about myself. Something powerful.
We were in a rush to deliver me to the airport. He drove and dropped me off very quickly. The plane was to take of in 25 minutes after our arrival. We both knew I wouldn’t make it, but we both needed for me to run. Run fast and away. For my own sanity sake. I couldn't stay with him any other minute and couldn't wait till I didn’t see him anymore.
Another moment, and I wouldn’t be able to spend another breath without him. Another second, and I’d rather be dead than gone.
He hugged me in a rush and kissed my cheek. That kiss burned my skin for a few hours later. Just like that slap I left on his, I'm sure. He drove away in a hurry, as if trying to make sure I made it on the plane, so he wouldn’t need to come back, because he wouldn’t be able to say good-bye for the second time around.
I ran, like a madman, to the counter, just to confirm I was late, and had to wait for the next 2 hours till the next flight. I asked for a cigarette and was given the rest of the pack. The couple near by knew I’d need a few more, just by the look on my face. I was glad he was gone. And devastated.
What was it? I felt like I was kidnapped by aliens and brought right back. Was I asleep? No, everything around me confirmed I was in TEXAS. WHERE? WTF?
I’ll never be the same. Not really. And yet, nothing happened. I am the same. Not broken, not hurt. But I’ve landed.
I know he is taken. I know he is gone. I know, there is nothing to be done or has to be done. We are from different countries, from different planets, from different everything. What I don’t know is how it is possible to be in love with your own self...
Because we are both the same person.
The end.
