I phoned. "What are you doing between now and 7?"
He answered. "I'm just hanging out. Working on my project."
"Okay I'll come over. I have a thing at 7. I have time to kill."
"Okay." He hang up.
I have known him for over a year. But neither one of us acknowledged that. He turned fifty shortly after we met. He looked 50, in my mind. But what does a typical 50 year old look like? I do not know. The man I was obsessed with in my early twenties is now fifty six, approaching fifty seven. I met him when I was 22 and he 39. I barely spent anytime with him but god I loved him. It rendered all my other relationships nil. Not even marriage stopped my love for him. But he barely took notice of me over the last decade. I had not seen him since he was 43, that man who ruined my dating life.
B is 48. B will be 50 in less than two years. That's the definitive middle age for a man.
He is waiting for my arrival. He just returned from his lab.
I announced that I was hungry. He let me help myself with his refrigerator so I did.
He tells me that one of his two girlfriends, is coming around. Good, they would soon live in their happy three people family where the two women refuse to acknowledge each other's existence.
I asked him about his friends. He said, "As you get older, guys don't become close friends. They are not that interested in learning about your dating life or lack of. They don't confess nor do they expect you to. You are the only one. I tell you everything."
I always knew the two of us would become this kind of friends. We told each other everything. We don't judge each other. we each respect each other, we provide guidance to each other. Well, at least he tells me everything, whereas I tell him things I want to share with him.
His relationship with women, in particular, was something that only I knew. I even gave him advice on how to catch and hook other women. I'm a complice.
I don't know how we became good friends. I do know that he sometimes thinks about fucking me and there is absolutely zero possibility for me to want to fuck him. It's one of those arrangements that made sense. We are friends. And the only way for me to be his friend is for there is no sexual act between us. And I'm not attracted to him.
That's one thing I'm good at. Being someone's friend and have them open themselves up to me and tell me everything.
He answered. "I'm just hanging out. Working on my project."
"Okay I'll come over. I have a thing at 7. I have time to kill."
"Okay." He hang up.
I have known him for over a year. But neither one of us acknowledged that. He turned fifty shortly after we met. He looked 50, in my mind. But what does a typical 50 year old look like? I do not know. The man I was obsessed with in my early twenties is now fifty six, approaching fifty seven. I met him when I was 22 and he 39. I barely spent anytime with him but god I loved him. It rendered all my other relationships nil. Not even marriage stopped my love for him. But he barely took notice of me over the last decade. I had not seen him since he was 43, that man who ruined my dating life.
B is 48. B will be 50 in less than two years. That's the definitive middle age for a man.
He is waiting for my arrival. He just returned from his lab.
I announced that I was hungry. He let me help myself with his refrigerator so I did.
He tells me that one of his two girlfriends, is coming around. Good, they would soon live in their happy three people family where the two women refuse to acknowledge each other's existence.
I asked him about his friends. He said, "As you get older, guys don't become close friends. They are not that interested in learning about your dating life or lack of. They don't confess nor do they expect you to. You are the only one. I tell you everything."
I always knew the two of us would become this kind of friends. We told each other everything. We don't judge each other. we each respect each other, we provide guidance to each other. Well, at least he tells me everything, whereas I tell him things I want to share with him.
His relationship with women, in particular, was something that only I knew. I even gave him advice on how to catch and hook other women. I'm a complice.
I don't know how we became good friends. I do know that he sometimes thinks about fucking me and there is absolutely zero possibility for me to want to fuck him. It's one of those arrangements that made sense. We are friends. And the only way for me to be his friend is for there is no sexual act between us. And I'm not attracted to him.
That's one thing I'm good at. Being someone's friend and have them open themselves up to me and tell me everything.
No comments:
Post a Comment