“I didn’t lie to you, but I kept back the truth.”
Florian writes. He’s got a blog, just like I do. I’ve got a small stained yellow book where I keep my lyrics, my halfway finished songs. So does Florian with his poems. I have a notebook where I wrote down dreams right when I’m awake before they fade away, sometimes it is nightmares, but sometimes it is desires in a surreal forms. Florian also keeps his journal close. Today, he sent me a piece of it, a letter actually, a piece that embodies what he wanted to say, instead of doing it the verbal way. And that is a line from the letter.
After a month of dating and constant talking, he said the “love” word in his text. I had to wait until the next day, when I saw him in person, to get the confirmation. “Yes, I love you,” Florian said while we were kissing on the sofa. Feeling a moment of insecurity, since I was still not sure about how I felt, especially when somewhere in the corners of my mind, there were still Ben and Jorge hovering around like dark shadows on the streets at night, I went on with the hug, the kiss, and the sex. But deep down inside, I knew I was thankful, honored, proud, and of course, happy.
But it wasn’t until this noon that I received the letter, in which mentioned briefly of his sexual encounter in another city just a few days ago, while he was still on his work trip. All this happened right before he came home and found me welcoming with open arms, before rushing into my embrace and looking at me and talking about love, without even a blink of guilt in his eyes, before sinking me in such sweetness that I’d been searching for.
What is even more terrifying to me, in such letter, is the fact that he could be able to rationalize all of this. “It was because of my desire, of my desire of being desired…”. I wonder if it ever occurs to him that everyone wants to be desired. I also want to be desired, by different people, all the time. God knows what was up with me and my promiscuous patterns before I met him. But I was willing to put it aside, and succeeded in doing it, since I knew what was more important. And yet, he was the one who said the “L” word.
Another line that hurt was “It wasn’t a soulless shagging.” He admitted to having feeling for that guy too, and it was meant to be just for a casual bar meet up. But then he reassured me that it wasn’t love. Of course, Florian, how could it be love in just a few hours? The thing was he had feelings for him in just a few hours. So it could be developed, especially when he is going to that city frequently now thanks to job demand.
Therefore, I don’t know If I could bring myself up to do what he wants, which is also what I want. He wants me to stay with him, still, but also stating the doubt of such incident still likely to repeat. He wants me to anchor him, to save him, to keep him from draining away, to help him overcome his lust and desire. But what he doesn’t know is that there’s nothing wrong with lust and desire. It’s just that he doesn’t actually love me like he says. Call me a fool but I know what it’s like to be in love and what love could do.
When in doubt, I went back to the thing I that I knew how to do best. I turned on my laptop and spent an hour jerking off in front of the screen. And then I went back to smoking, which is a habit I started giving up since I met Florian. And who knows, maybe back to a few shags, those are good distractions. And then once again, I caught myself in that loop again, with cheating men, with Koen having a boyfriend in the dark, Jorge and his boy toys, Owen and his secret dance club lover. I’d thought it would end soon…
Those ultimate three words has been repeated frequently, from his mouth. But when it was mentioned that often, or from my perspective, abused, it signaled something coming up, like the clouds before the storm. And indeed, the storm came. There’s literally a storm howling outside my window, and also another one inside the empty black hole that keeps growing bigger inside me right now.