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Where was I…? Costco, condoms, etc.

July 10, 2014

Okay, so it’s been a couple of weeks, no more or less strange than usual. Last weekend would have been Ro and his ex’s three year anniversary. He spent the weekend with me hitting up bbqs, the gym, Costco. Mundane friend stuff, I suppose. Neither of us purchased the pleasure pack of condoms at Costco. I ribbed him (no pun intended, I swear) about condoms and commitment issues.

“You won’t by the ginormous pack because it suggests commitment,” I grinned at him while he pondered two different varieties of multivitamins.

“No,” he said. “I won’t buy them because if I bring someone over, they’ll wonder why the hell I felt compelled to buy a fucking entire TIN of condoms. Can you imagine what someone would say if they saw that on your nightstand?”

“You’re the only one seeing my nightstand these days,” I reminded him.

He said nothing else.

After a couple of minutes, in another aisle of the store, I concluded simply, “We have the strangest friendship ever.”

“It’s a good one,” he replied. “Oh, and hey, are you sure you aren’t trans?”

I smiled, but he was looking at soup bouillon. “No,” I said, “I’m not sure at all.” Am I really that obvious, or have I just been more open with Ro?

It’s not clear to me whether he heard me and ignored me, heard me and didn’t care, or was too focused on effing soup to actually pay attention. The conversation ended there and resumed its normal course of arguing over carbs, protein, and fiber in diet… because that is how our friendship goes.

In bed on Friday night, our legs intertwined and my head on his shoulder, we talked about our futures – my writing, his debate over whether to finish his current degree or to pursue a program in personal training. Eventually he fell asleep, and I was left listening to his soft snores and my dog’s loud ones. Small Dog was, as usual, under the blankets, curled up at my knees, and I was reminded for the millionth time that one of MTIA’s tag lines came from a late night discussion of Small Dog’s snoring. The final line was his, but Small Dog and our dialog were its inspiration. In first of several recent emails, he credited me for the line, and I found myself smiling at the memory of that night for the first time in months.

I had often listened to Small Dog’s snores from beneath the blankets and scowled, thinking, “You owe that to me, MTIA. Without me, that line wouldn’t exist.” It should feel strange that I finally smile about it while resting my head on Ro’s shoulder, but it doesn’t. It’s just a small step toward closure. I expect it feels sort of like it does for him to talk about his ex after he gets off. We aren’t really using one another. But we aren’t NOT using one another. It’s a strange friendship indeed.

I still haven’t seen MTIA in person, and I can’t quite decided whether the butterflies in my stomach as the day looms closer are from dread or excitement or both. No, it’s both, I know. I want him to see me, happy and confident, and remember what he’s left behind and to regret it, take it back, and love me forever. But I realize that the best I can really hope for is a painful friendship where I’m constantly reminded that I’m a good friend and great lay, but not worth loving in a relationship.

I am, though. Somewhere, somewhere… there is someone out there feeling all of the same things, who is tired of get fucked (literally and metaphorically). I will find him. I will not compromise who I am.

Crap. I’m going to be single forever.

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