Archive for the ‘Films’ Category

It’s funny, meeting someone in person whom you have been virtual friends with for over a year. Nearly 13 months of sexual tension and in person, we are comfortable pals, yet beyond that, perhaps not much else. Internet Skype boy was having a weekend of bad reactions to some new migraine meds which ironically were causing low drive issues. The irony does not sneak past me here. I wanted a weekend of unbridled carefree fucking after 11 months of loving someone who had low sex drive issues and low interest issues. Nonetheless, we did have sex on Friday night, but the first time you fuck anyone is odd, grooves not found, rhythms not synced, and so I extended my trip one more night, to see whether things could line up more.

In between my first and last night… Parisian Macarons from BisousCiao. in flavors like Sour Cherry, Champagne Cocktails from Bubble Lounge and strolls through the Bowery. Apple Cider from The Union Square Greenmarket, naps on $7,000 couches at The Conran Shop, viewings of Time Bandits, and jokes about how I have lost my NYC street cred after ten years away.

So, how was the sex, second go around? It’s different. It’s not Type Geek. I was detached, yet forced to be present because of the sensation of fucking someone much larger than your previous partner. We fucked, it was fine. It was the punctuation, the ending to my one-sided relationship with a man I loved who couldn’t give anything except the occasional dinner, concert or overnight snuggle. Until there was sex with someone else, there was always just going to be Type Geek in my rearview mirror. After Skype boy and I fucked, after he washed up and went to bed, I laid there. The only night I was unable to relax and sleep. I missed Type Geek, even the small amount that I had him, the small amount that snuck through without him seeing it cozy up to me. I couldn’t help but wonder, has he thought of me at all since he saw me last. Did he ever miss me or was I unable to imprint myself even that much on him. I know it isn’t a reflection on me, it is merely a reflection on him and his bigger deeper issues, but nonetheless, I feel the loss and miss the him that I knew in those dark quiet hours between dusk and dawn.

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In 7 days, I have spoken to him for 6 seconds. He had traveled away to the cold ass wintry mix of Jackson Hole, Wyoming for nearly 5 days and lost his phone at the airport on his way to frolic with the elks and the huskies. His return flight brought him in after the TSA office was long closed and the next two days had him working in the office out of town, therefore he hadn’t been able to get his phone until this evening. Then, while I finished a riveting conversation about Monsanto and the wide and insidious reach of it’s all-consuming fingers into our homes, our stomachs, and our government, with the other table at the Pho restaurant, and was paying my check, he rang. I quietly answered and asked him if I could call him right back. He said of course, yet didn’t answer when I did. Perhaps he fell asleep on the couch, but I called back only 12 minutes later.

Do I miss him, because I love him?


Do I love him, because I miss him?

After a long nap, and a text message from me telling him to enjoy his brunch with his family and that I was sorry we missed each other, I ate the remainder of my cold duck salad and watched Love and Other Disasters on Netflix. At one point Brittany Murphy’s character Jacks is having a conversation with her best friend and flatmate Simon in which he asks her the age-old question: 

“Who can honestly say they will always love you?” asks Simon

“Whitney Houston.” replies Jacks, very matter of factly.

“Yeah, when she’s high on crack.” retorts Simon.

Perhaps we can give Simon the point on that one.

 Later on she says… “Love isn’t always a lightening bolt… maybe sometimes it is just a choice.”

“Maybe true love is a decision.  A decision to take a chance with somebody. To give to somebody without worrying whether they will give anything back or whether they are going to hurt you or if they really are the one. Maybe love isn’t something that happens to you, maybe it’s something you have to choose.”

RIP Brittany Murphy. Thank you for my evening lesson… that, as Simon says at the end, ” True love is a process, not an event.”

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