Summertime Sadness

It was around midnight, which was easily concluded since the neighborhood had already been drowned in the dark, only weakly illuminated by the glimmering light from the living room where we were sitting across each other, thinking about what to say next since the deed had already been done.


Hours before, Florian came over, parking his electric bike close by in a rather shy and childlike manner, just exactly one of the gestures that I take interest in, approaching me with his cracking voice. He had been crying, I could tell, by looking at his blueish grey eyes. “I thought I shouldn’t come empty handed so here you are,” he said, handing me a package carefully wrapped in an old newspapers with funny German illustrations.

“If I have to choose 5 CDs to bring to a deserted island, this would be the top choice,” his voice was restrained and controlled, but only half way, probably since he was very well aware of the fact that Hanne, one of my friend, was there as well. Hanne and I had just finished a cigerette while she was comforting me over what had happened between Florian and I.

An awkward moment of silence succeeded the nice gesture. We all sat there in front of my door, looking at the empty street and sometimes glancing at each other to inspect any further expression. It was The Notwist’s 12. He knows what I like. Or to be more exact, he knows what I’m going to like, which made my decision much harder.

Earlier, I sent him a letter, which I initially wrote for this blog, elaborating on reasons why he could let this moment in the sauna catch him with his guard down while we were still going strong, going well, and even planning on indefinite future plans. I said maybe he wasn’t in love with me at all but just the idea of being in love, of being in my company. I know I could be fun, I could be creative and awkward, I could be frisky, flirty and weird. After all, those past experience aren’t for nothing. And I also said I wasn’t gonna get it slip away easily this time, otherwise he would take me easily again.

Florian said he had taken a walk, after reading my letter 3 times, doing some soul searching about what I had said since that’s what he himself had never thought of as well. “I know what I want. And I know what I need now. You.” This line bore the resemblance to what he said to me the last time when I laid down some possible options for both of us: strangers, friends, friends with benefits, or an open relationship.

Gay people around me always says it’s stupid to think of a monogamous homosexual relationship in this modern day, with technology and hookup apps, with decaying moral values and more relaxing approach on personal attachment. I, myself, although find it very much convincing, trying to prove the otherwise. But with Florian, I guessed I loved him too much to afford losing him so here I was, with the possible options again.

But that’s not what he wants. He affirmed that a relationship, an exclusive one, with me, and a future with me, is what he himself had been searching for long. I always find his affirmative and decisive moments very attractive. I feel the man inside him, inside the bear that I dearly call Fiji Bear, was thriving at those moments the most.

“I fucked Richard. I brought him here, to my place, after lunch, and I fucked him hard,” I stared at him, dead cold. “And also Mario.” Florian lifted his head and looked at me with surprise. He knew we had done it before, those men and I. “You don’t get it, do you? We’ve just done it, after I learnt of what you did. And they all loved it, they all begged for me. Richard, he loved to rub my cum all over his hot hairy chest and play the submissive role. And Mario, you thought he changed his plan and came back to town for no reason? It was because of me. And while you were in the kitchen, at your party the other day, we fooled around at the balcony while smoking, and you had no clue.”

Florian let the silence take over again. I guessed he was a bit shocked hearing all this. Of course, partially it was true, that Richard loves those teasing, and I did turn to them upon finding about his cheating for the first time, but not this time, and the rest was entirely made up. “Think about it, and then multiply it by 2 since you’ve done it twice to me, and then by 10 since it was a total stranger this time that you traded me off for. At least those people and I have history. That’s how I feel. And I want you to remember it.”

That night, we laid side by side on my bed till the morning came. Things should be hard for me to go back to normal again but with him besides, nightmares didn’t linger.


I guess, just like what Florian said about himself, we’re all searching the same thing, something that lasts longer than those string of physical contacts that seems adventerous and fun at first but then turns blunt. But sometimes the process does hurt and come with the pain, with sleepless nights and bad dreams. Once again, we chose to look ahead instead of looking back, heading down the unknown together and hopefully, figuring it out in the way that harms us least.

And once again, and this is going to be the last time, I chose to bear the pain and walk with him rather than head another direction where his presence is out of sign.

This entry was published on August 11, 2015 at 6:11 pm. It’s filed under Florian and tagged , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. Follow any comments here with the RSS feed for this post.

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