Orpheus

Started a new job this week. Yesterday, as I was heading to grab something to eat at nearby deli, I stopped, dead in my tracks. My face turned white, my forehead cold. What’s wrong? I looked up. Right there in front of me, his hospital. I had no idea it was so close. Flashbacks of happier days, the entrance where I used to pick him up, a close-by restaurant where we had lunch, our legs intertwined under the table. Another lifetime.

We only dated for a couple of months, a nanosecond. It shouldn’t have been a big deal. It takes half the time you dated to get over someone, they say. It took me a good year.

I’ve known John for a long time. The moment I saw him I thought, “the perfect man.” Smart, breathtakingly handsome, an ER doctor who put George Clooney to shame. But he had a serious boyfriend, then he was a serious slut, or so the rumors said.

One night, an ordinary night, he walked into a bar. I looked up. A crush that’s never gone away. A nod, a hello, a quick chat. Then, out of the blue, I kissed him, almost mid-sentence. An impulse.
“Um, okay.”
Shit.
“I don’t want to make out with you here,” he said. “So we can either go to your place or mine.”
A smile.
“But we can’t have sex.”
Smile, gone. Then I realize, he meant it as a compliment.
“I live close by, where are you?” I asked.
“Upstate.”
“Your place then.”
“Really?”

A trip in the dark, a hand on my knee. His eyes on the road, then on me, then the road again. Driving, him, me, and my uncontainable sense of glee.

A beautiful Victorian house. A fireplace. Four legs stumbling up the stairs. One step T-shirt, two step pants. A trail of cotton leading all the way to his big soft bed. Lips every which way, his beautiful body in my mouth. Naked limbs, the smell of his armpit, two perfectly round spheres, a beautiful dick, swinging side to side. Hands all over my body, my soul about to explode. A pleasure so intense, a feeling so strong. Is this what they mean when they say “mind-blowing sex?”

One earthquake, then another. The catching of breath, the sweat of his brow, the deep look in his eyes.

“I thought we weren’t going to have sex,” I said, my heart still doing summersaults in my chest.
“It’s your fault. I couldn’t help it.”

From that moment, two lives turned into one. Trips to northern woods every night after work. Coffee in bed, dinners in front of a burning fire. Foreign films, red wine, stories he’d never told another soul, unwrapped just for me. A high so incredible, not all the drugs in Colombia could ever induce. Calls wishing me a good day at work, frowns if I didn’t call back. A planned vacation, a moment of happiness. Clouds.

Then just like that, a feeling, a sixth sense. Red bulbs short-circuiting your heart. Something’s wrong. He doesn’t say it, but you know. It’s over.

At brunch, as the food is about to arrive, you ask that question, the one you know will end it.
“What’s going on?”
“Nothing, everything’s fine.”
“Really?”
“It’s just that I have a lot on my plate right now”

You pick up your jacket. You’ve heard this speech before. Don’t want to obsess over the details later.
“Where are you going?”
A kiss on his forehead, a walk out the restaurant. No, don’t look back. Orpheus leaving Hades without Eurydice.

A call the next day. Nope, I didn’t answer. I didn’t return any of his calls.
“Too much on his plate.”

A pain so strong I couldn't breathe. A long period of grief. The fear of never meeting someone who could make my heart jump out of my chest. Dates where all you want to do is kill him for making you go through these freak-show moments.

A year later, a walk to a deli. His hospital. My heart still remembers. It was only a nanosecond.

Comments

[clark]

dearest ethan,
once again, thanks for making me feel not alone with suffering from the pains of a past love...for me, its trying to walk past a particular restaurant around the corner from my apartment on eighth avenue without looking in...and even though i know that i wont see him there, just the structure itself always brings memories (and tears) of a time in my own life that i too thought would never end...but it did, the first and only "true love" in my life so far...
i hope you will triumph over your past heartaches a lot sooner than i, and perhaps we will do as the 'textbooks' say: "be happy to have loved than to never have known love before..."
(or was that from "moulin rouge?")
best of luck with the new job !!!

[Chad Hunt]

The heart never forgets. A little piece of me dies each time I see his face at the gym, at a club, or at his restaraunt. Why? I keep asking myself. Why did you leave me. I loved you more than anything. I still do. I cried over you again today. Will I ever stop? It's been months and the mere mention of your name or the slightest invoked memory brings back a world of happiness, and then the pain. Can I ever forgive you? Do you know how much I still care? Do you ever see me in your dreams as I do you? Do you know your killing me inside? My brain is always filled with one never ending thought ... Marko

[Roy]

jesus christ ethan! what are you trying to do to me???? I love love love your writing. I almost cried right here at my desk. My heart was breaking for you. I know that it must have been hard to have all those feelings rush back to the fore-front again. But I am sure that you are stronger today than you were back then... Man, I wish I was in NY. I'd love to just sit and talk to you. I know that must sound weird..but with all these stories of yours I have read, I feel as if I know you..I know..weird!

[Daniel]

Wow..I have been reading your entries for a few weeks and I have to say...WOW. You seem to be reading and writing about experiences that I have had also. It is amazing to realize that people have more in common than they think. Thanks for sharing these.

[rocka]

Very Interesting post...

Whats so amazing about people and feelings, is that once you think you've got them under control...

Something happens to remind you, that your only human... The heart doesn't lie...

Why do I feel like I am reading about my life, whenever you write something personal?

[Greg]

Great posting-- I'm new to your blog and have been making it daily appointment reading.

And going back a few entries: now that Mark Feehily has come out of the closet, do we get to hear more tales from between the sheets with him? ;-)

[William Scott]

Hey from down South in NC!
Really have enjoyed being a lurker at your blog, until this post I could refrain from commenting. Not looking back is so hard, the archtype of Orpheus and Eurydice,, not to mention your intellegence for even knowing the story, made for a great blog post.
Some say that I am lucky, my love lost moved back home,where we met, to Rome,Italy last May.
The pain has never let up after the heights of love attained then lost. Actually twice.
Then he called last week, sad and sounding regretful that he did not appreciate what we had during our two years of being together. I listened shocked that he would admit this and it only made the pain worse like salt in a wound.
Moving on has been so difficult that I dare say I have not made much progress. But as you say, it was only a nanosecond.
Thanks for so eloquently putting into words, my own thoughts.
Sincerely
William Scott
PS Good luck with the job!

[Kim]

There are so many ifs, ands or buts in this world. And each question will just probably lead you to the next one. The one thing that rings true is that he was never really yours, but that night, the sun and moon were as one.
You had the chance to love. The chance to make love. The chance to smell, fell and touch love.
And that, Mon Cheri, most people never get.
If there was one wish that I could grant you. I'd grant you everlasting love. Because I know that you deserve it and I know you shall have it.
And next time he will be all yours.
HRH♦PRINCESS K.

[anon]

I've been the other guy. And, trust me, it sucks. Now, I may be reading an awful lot into what Ethan wrote, and I could be wrong, but here goes:

I used to wine and dine guys, and get off on how much they were getting off on me, knowing the whole time that it couldn't last. And when it got too much, I'd say something pathetic--not unlike the 'I've got a lot on my plate' line.

Some part of it had to do with the fact that I finally felt good about myself (or so I thought--it was more cockiness than good), having gotten into law school, and finally felt like my life was going somewhere. And I got a lot better looking all of a sudden (confidence plus gym), all of which made it super easy to pick up guys. And every once in a while, I'd meet a good looking guy (usually when out drinking), and we'd have a perfect two-week romance, and then they'd expect more, and I'd be looking to bail.

Now, that may be a lot more callous than Ethan's guy. But for some reason, I kept thinking of stuff I did as I read about his romance with the doctor. Especially that awful throwaway 'lot on my plate' line.

I was miserable the whole time I acted like that, and I regret making all those guys feel bad.

I’m reading Alan Helms's 'Young Man from the Provinces,' and there’s a bit of a line that struck a nerve: "a deep need to reenact a drama of rejection that confirmed our own poor estimates of ourselves--estimates formed by our troubled childhoods in cahoots with a social opprobrium that never slept."

Yes, I'm too much of a coward to use my name/email. Figures, right? Anyway, love your writing Ethan. Have nothing to say to make you feel better, but I wish you the best.

[Michelangelo]

Remembering him.....trying to forget him...when will I be free of him? Thank you for capturing that experience so well. I enjoy your writing very much.

[Dray]

Love the way you made your exit...I would probably sit there asking; "What is it?" like a fool. At least you left with your dignity.
(did you know he had a boyfriend before going home with him...wasn't sure)

[Derrick]

"don't create that which you cannot control." it's an anonymous quote some girl told me once. and at the time i was so naive and young that my response was like "um, huh? i don't get it..." anyways, i commend you for cutting it when you did. by walking out like that. i would've picked up the phone the next day though. poor guy.