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Festival Part IV (Don’t Cry in Front of Mr. Houston)

April 29, 2016

Since we met a few months ago, Mr. Houston had been giving me mixed signals. At the end of that first weekend together, one he had pushed for, he asked me if I could see myself in a relationship with him. “Yeah, maybe,” I said.

“Is that something you’re open to?” I asked him.

“Yes.” he said.

Then a couple of days later he explained all the reasons why we couldn’t have a serious, monogamous relationship. I responded by putting my guard up. I understood what this was. It had a shelf life.

He talks openly about dating, even playing on Tinder in front of me. And playing is the accurate word. I’ve seen what he says. He’s like a cat tossing around little mice. I know it’s only a matter of time before I don’t want to be one of those little mice anymore.

But then, he seemed disappointed when I wasn’t more vulnerable and open with him. He seemed to want me to express a desire for him.

“Do you want me to come for Festival?” he had asked.

“Sure, if you want to,” I replied. My come-don’t come-it’s all good attitude was insufficient to him, it seemed. It was confusing.


I got up from our nap late that Saturday afternoon and took a bath, loosing my cheek panda. I woke him up, saying “Come on. Let’s go. There’s more Festival to do.”

We walked back downtown, getting more beer. We flitted between stages before working our way into the very crowded main stage. It was an Israeli band that everyone was raving about. He danced with me in the crowd, holding me around my waist. He turned around and kissed me. I put my arms around his neck and we swayed to the music. I looked at him and smiled.

“You’re looking at me like you’re looking into my soul,” he said.

I smiled again. “Where would you like me to look?” I said.

“Maybe this is too much for you,” he said. “The way you’re looking at me, maybe this is too much for you to handle.” I pulled away, confused. It wasn’t the first time he had said something like that. He had sometimes cautioned about getting too attached.

The music was a little boring, so we stepped away, got more beer and found a bench to sit on. I was swinging my crossed leg, sipping my beer, watching the band and stewing.

“What’s wrong, boo?” he asked. “You seem subdued. Why did you change?”

“Because you told me too,” I said.

“I was just being honest, boo.” he said. “It seemed like you were getting too serious.”

“I was just being in the moment,” I said. “Isn’t that what you want? Isn’t that what we said we would try to do?”

We sat in silence and the emotions welled up until I couldn’t control them anymore. There we were having a beautiful moment together, then it was ruined…… all good things are……like all the good moments I had with Mr. K.

Everything gets ruined. 

I put my head and my hands and started to cry.

“What boo? What’s wrong?” he said pulling me to him.

“Everything gets fucked up,” I said putting my head on his shoulder.

“I’m sorry, baby,” he said. “I’m scared. I’m just scared. I’m scared for both of us. We’re feeling too much. It’s too much.”

“I don’t know what you want. You seem to want me to be open and vulnerable but you also want me to be reserved and guarded. You can’t have both.”

“I know, boo,” he said. “I just say what I’m thinking. I didn’t meant to upset you.”

He made me laugh and we recovered quickly from the weird little hiccup. We eventually met up with Liz and a guy she’s seeing or whatever. We went to a local dance hall and Mr. Houston watched me cajun dance. We ubered home and went to bed.

We were drunk. He held me close and kissed me more gingerly than he had before. He whispered to me. It might have been a dream but I thought I heard him say to me, in the dark, in a whisper, “At this moment, right now……I love you.”

It was probably a dream.



From → Rantings

One Comment
  1. revengestar permalink

    he is an orc if he ”can’t be in a monogamous relationship”
    You deserve WAY better!

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