Upon learning that Steve and his new partner Mark have agreed to wed this March and that Mark only allowed Steve to go on the April trip with me under one crucial condition that we just stay friends, I guess I was completely broken and there went the day. But I was wrong.
Yesterday, Koen called me up and said he wanted to meet me after work. I was a bit caught up with some stuff so I said no. However, I did go by his bike shop to fetch him the helmet that he wanted. Being confused with which color would strike his best interest, I called him up, 5 times, without him answering. “This is strange,” I thought, since he was the type of people that treasures smartphones than anything. I reassured myself that maybe he was in the gym, the pool or something.
It turned out today that that “or something” part was true. We were supposed to do dinner, have marvelous sex and maybe some movies to keep my mind off Steve for a while but when he was on the phone with somebody, I accidentally found a visiting card of a “men” sauna in town, a place whose existence I hadn’t even known of.
“Is it like, I don’t know, a gay sauna?” I asked.
“Yeah…” He reluctantly replied, his manners portrayed that of a child just caught stealing.
What was next is unexpected. Although I’m very well aware of the status of our relationship (which is just fuck friend), the sudden urge of bitterness, anger and jealousy taking control all over me was so surprising that I couldn’t pull myself together. I uttered a rant about how the lightning in this room was so yellow-sih, about the seasoning stuff I forgot to bring over to do the cooking and all and then made up an excuse to leave the place. I know If I stayed, I’d lose control and probably do things I would regret later.
Driving home, I couldn’t help but thinking about how selfish I am. We’re not even serious and I guess mentally, I’m having Steve occupying a big part in my mind as well. But that feeling was too much for me to bear at that point. I hadn’t known that the feelings for Koen were much deeper than what I like to think about it.
Koen did confront me about it, asking me whether my sudden decision to call off the dinner to go home and do translation due to my boss’s sudden request was because of the sex massage and once again, I lied. I don’t want to reveal him to the truth that I’d just discovered since I know very well that he doesn’t mean the same. And sympathy is what nobody would enjoy.
“If it makes you feel uncomfortable, I will never ever do that again,” he said.
“No, you don’t have to do that. It’s not your fault or anybody’s fault. I’m not in a place to have such power. You don’t have to do that for me.” That was almost the last thing I said to Koen before taking off in the cold winter night, with the vivid pictures of us going on the jazz show on Friday nights, cooking home food, choosing the appropriate paintings for his new apartment, doing country side visit and welcoming his dog all the way from Kenya dashing into million pieces. Million pieces.
It’s understandable, right? I found myself caring for those old men of mine. I should do something before that caring could grow into something much bigger that could only bring about potential destruction, right?
I guess there’s one good thing coming out of this: Now at least I’m sure of what I feel for Koen. But there are also many left wondering: Did he kiss that massage boy with such passion like when we kissed? Did he let that massage boy suck him off? Or even worse, did Koen suck the boy or let he fuck him?
This bitter pill won’t take just a short time to be swallow.