Steve sent me an email this morning, confirming his decision, the decision that, in his words, has been put much thoughts into. They are going to move in together, Steve and a guy named Mark, and probably getting married.
Mark is the kind of guy that I used to (and probably still do) want to grow up to be: big, strong, dark and proud, driving Harley Davidson, professional handsome fire fighter, ideal father of 2 or in short, a stable figure whose arms somebody can seek safety inside. Ironically, I’m in a total contrast.
I remember when Steve was asking me about this since Mark was the one who wanted to take it up a notch. Yes, he did ask me about this since we’d decided to maintain our friend zone. This is all I said: “He’s bi, caring and loves you. He could have had a lot more choices, his range of options is wider than ours and yet, he’s chosen you.”
I don’t know if sometimes I’m just really surprised of my ability to tell lies or the lies have actually turned into me. They are everywhere, in my mind, my blood, taking all over and flooding from my mouth to the ears of the one that I trust, the one that can read my wandering mind just by thoughtless words I type and more importantly, the one that I’ve promised to always be honest to at his request.
Maybe from now on, things between us would never be the same since Steve is a different person now. There might be no more middle day texting, trying to make up for the 15 hours time difference. There might be no more good morning and good night mixed up. There might be no more lengthy emails describing how the day has turned out. And there might even be no train trip in April as planned.
I’m proud to hear of his nobleness, taking all Mark’s family under his wing, managing the business, doing animal rescue and taking care of his memory-lost first lover and I truly am pleased to know that all of this has paid off with this wonderful guy that he’s probably gonna spend the rest of the life with. But am I happy? I don’t know. There will be time for me, and who knows, maybe tomorrow I will bump into a new Ben or a new Steve, in flesh and bone, in vivid figures that I can actually use my hands to touch rather than reaching for the glamorous lost fantasies.