Sometimes all the great fiction in the world can’t amount to one moment of reality. A second so serendipitous, even the biggest atheists have to wonder. Can this really be coincidental?
Four years after he broke my heart, a night that would finally put it all to rest.
I dated Seth for a good part of year and half. There were other men before him. But for some reason he was the one who penetrated my skin, got into my bloodstream then the heart, like mountain water finding its way to a deep well through underground creeks and pathways. He was handsome, smart, beautiful. And so very young.
It wasn’t love at first sight, it was a more gradual process. But all of a sudden I found myself thinking about him all the time, his face filling my mind every time I closed my eyes.
With him I was smarter funnier, cooler. It was as though something inside had ignited, from blue and violet to red and orange. Don’t think I realized at the time how much I liked him. There were clues, big ones, but when you fall for the first time, there’s just no reference.
Love isn’t blind, it’s stupefying.
Looking back, I should have seen it a mile away. There was always something not quite right. Kept telling myself that’s just how he is, the rich background, the cold upbringing. I remember going to his parents’ house for Thanksgiving. Nice folks who wouldn’t yell if the house was on fire, who spoke to each other in soft, formal voices, who couldn’t imagine leaning their elbows on the dinning-room table.
Seth was funny, witty and distant, like his mother.
It came one day. The message. The one you can’t ignore. A night at a club. We had lost each other for a minute. When I finally found him he was with someone, drunk off his mind. There was something in the way he looked at that guy, the way he touched his waist. An intimate moment.
I watched. I had to be sure. Then the answer. The two walking towards the bathroom. Together.
My heart racing. My mind, lost.
Oh no you’re not, not on my watch.
I walked over, looked at his friend.
“Get lost. Now.”
The guy froze, caught between his pride and fear, then left. I turned to Seth.
“Don’t call me. Ever.”
Outside, alone, a cry so primal, so loud, not even a midwife could imagine. Then the fall.
The damp of pillows, the terror of morning, a bed that seemed to be magnetic. Bills unpaid, laundry unwashed, blinking messages unanswered.
Just me and my bedroom wall. A Broken man.
I thought when they said “heartache” they meant it figuratively, a metaphor. No one warned me.
A few months later, another discovery. A letter he’d written. Not to me, someone else. Descriptions of weeks filled with passion and sex. Always a letter. I take a deep breath. The date, not recent. Three days before that night.
A broken heart even more broken. Nothing but pulverized dust where pumping muscles used to be. Anger and pain finding their way back to a place they used to own. Cold sweat. Tears in my mouth. Was I not good looking enough?
I met the boy in the letter, during Pride, with Seth. The look in Seth’s eyes. No, he isn’t cold, it’s not the upbringing or his mother. The way he looked at his new boyfriend, the same way I looked at Seth. He has it in him, just not for you.
What is it about this other boy? Handsome, but come on, are you kidding me? I examined his face, his eyes. Then I saw it. The way he looked at Seth, the same way Seth looked at me. Life, come-upins. Boomerang.
Then the power of divinity, the twisted humor of a God. Four years later, at a party, his boyfriend walks into a room.
“So who are you dating these day?” he asked.
“No one. You?”
“Still with Seth.”
“I thought you guys split up”
“We did, then got back together. We’re having some trouble, I don’t think it’ll last.”
“Does he know that?”
“Not yet.”
“Maybe you should tell him.”
I looked at him. Handsomer than I thought. Wisdom in his eyes. A man not a boy. Then this:
“You know,” he said, “I’ve always thought that if we had met under different circumstances, I would have asked you on a date.”
“Excuse me?”
“I think you’re an incredible guy. I’ve dated many people who have come out of relationships all fucked up. Seth’s not. I think it speaks very highly of you.”
“It does?”
A few drinks. Then a few more. Then a kiss.
I push him away.
“Dude this isn’t right." I say. "Not that evil.”
“Come home with me.”
“What? No. Dude. Can’t.”
“Come home with me.”
“No fucking way. You have a lot of shit to figure out.”
“Come home with me. I live right across the bridge in Brooklyn.”
“Brooklyn? Are you nuts?”
“Come home with me, I’ll make you breakfast.”
“Okay.”
I had to know. I had to know what he looked like under those clothes. I had to know what he tasted like. I had to know how big his dick was. Was he better than me?
His small cramped room, an unmade bed. Has he changed the sheets since he last fucked Seth? Clothes on the floor, his tongue in my mouth, his fat cock, his small butt. Sleeping with the enemy, the man I’ve thought about so many times, the origin of so much pain, here sucking my dick, kissing my lips, holding my hand.
My ego restored. My curiosity squashed. My guilt above normal. My grief, over.
There are moments in life all the fiction in world can’t surpass. A moment when even the biggest atheists must wonder. Can this really be coincidental?
priceless
i love your writing style
you should publish a book
soon
Posted by: ghetto fab | August 20, 2005 at 11:09 PM
You are bad! But I love it....Once again Ethan, your writing style once again proves the point that you have a gift....
Posted by: Roy | August 21, 2005 at 01:10 AM
Ah yes the forbidden fruit. So where do broken hearts go? Some place south to die I suspect.
Revenge? Not sure that you were the first to do that and I'm sure you won't be the last.
Nothings better to get you out of your heartache than a heavy romp and with the enemy. Well!
What is it about love, lose your appetite, can't sleep at night kind of love? Why does it make you go Rogue? Blind with fury. That question will be the most unanswered.
So what about the person that broke your heart? A thousand deaths maybe? Or just a smug little smile knowing that the guy he cheated with on you had his lips on your cock and he was soon to go and kiss him with those same lips.
HRH♦P.K.
Posted by: Kim | August 21, 2005 at 11:10 AM
Nothing has anything to do with how good you look. I really wish you would stop asking yourself that rhetorical question.
Posted by: Toby | August 21, 2005 at 12:24 PM
A great post. While I haven't been through that exact same situation, I can totally empathisize. As for the comment that "nothing has to do with how good you look," well, we all know deep down that's bullshit. In many ways it has everything to do with how people look. I'm not saying its the only thing, but whatever. You can't blame a new york gay guy for worrying about it -- often times its the only true measure of someone's worth in this town...
Posted by: Dan | August 21, 2005 at 01:44 PM
another great writing. and besides recycling toby's ideas above, all i wanna say is he's 100% right.
Posted by: fabio | August 21, 2005 at 03:16 PM
I too enjoy your writing. As for the "looks" comment...it just goes to show that no matter how good looking you are, we can all be insecure.
But as Mother always said..."Never compare yourself to others, as there will always be someone taller, more handsome...and with a bigger dick." Oh, Mama!
Posted by: Dray | August 21, 2005 at 03:18 PM
Another handsome man story? Are you trying to show you only date Abercombrie types and you get dissapointed? You'll never find your prince charming because honey, he ain't real. OK???
Posted by: anon2 | August 21, 2005 at 03:47 PM
Hmmmmmmm .... I wonder if I got Robert to sleep with me if that would make all the pain go away.
Posted by: Chad Hunt | August 21, 2005 at 04:55 PM
Nasty messy morally ambivalent - yeah it's all coming back to me. Powerful writing and consciousness, Man.
Posted by: Greg | August 21, 2005 at 07:58 PM
i have always wondered if experiencing "seredipity" is actually having to live out ones "karma" whenever the time is right...the pains and relief that you feel seem familiar to me, but when i think back to about 16yrs ago, all i remember is a time when men and boys would want me, dine me, and spend their money and time to try and win my heart...but after years of spending their money, wasting their time, and breaking their hearts, i have spent the past 10 or so yrs completely alone...on my birthdays, christmas, new years and valentines, i find myself the loneliest...ill call up an escort and spend my money for the affection of a man on an hourly basis... is that:
A: serendipity B: karma C: other ...?
now, all that i hope to have one day is "deja vou"...
Posted by: clark | August 22, 2005 at 07:12 AM
Once again, an excellent piece!
About the writing, suddenly you seem to me like a gay version of Carrie Bradshaw with her daily musings in a news column in a parallel universe, and I mean it in a complimentary way!
Now, all we need is 3 other bloggers to complete the picture.....
Posted by: acrossdemiles | August 22, 2005 at 08:33 PM
I just wrote something in my blog yesterday that is similar to that situation. Talk about cumming full circle... I hope it helped you get closure. Sometimes you just have to know why the other shoes fit better, or at least why you're told they do.
Posted by: that matt guy | August 22, 2005 at 10:17 PM
i almost did that once. i was as crushed (if not more) than your description Ethan when my first (my first EVERYTHING) broke up with me after cheating. i met this couple sometime afterwards. to make a long story short, i almost hooked up with the one boyfriend. sure, he was as willing to cheat as i was to help him cheat--but that's not me. still, some part of me felt like it was retribution in some odd way. as if it would make me feel better in some way. it didn't happen but it scared me that it almost did. i guess it's just true what they say about when you're hurt that deeply, you truly become another person. because me before then and me now--i'd never attempt to help someone cheat or break a couple up.
Posted by: Derrick | August 22, 2005 at 11:36 PM
that was increidble.
great story, very well told.
Posted by: adam | March 25, 2006 at 04:45 PM
I very much like your writing. Have you published? If so, what and where.
Posted by: Griffin | May 31, 2006 at 10:13 PM
I've been there. Sharing flesh transformed an former enemy into a warm person. The intimacy exposed faults, insecurities, and sexual drive we both contain. It healed. Our competitive relationship was replaced with our own bond.
Posted by: Larry | June 02, 2006 at 04:51 PM
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