So here it is. Yesterday evening I finally got kissed... by someone other than Kevin(!). I don't know where things might go with the kisser in question, but I'm glad that after three years since my last such kisses I've finally had another. Those three years ago it was [Name Withheld-1], who had been my friend before the kisses started, [Name Withheld-1] who abandoned our friendship suddenly and harshly when his boyfriend found out that [Name Withheld-1] and I were being physically intimate. (I thought [Name Withheld-1] and his boyfriend were splitting up. Otherwise, I'd not have been sneaking around with [Name Withheld-1].) My heart was broken, 'cause I was in love with [Name Withheld-1] by the time the hatchet fell. And I felt as if all of [Name Withheld-1]'s kisses were stolen, not given -- taken from me rather than given to me.
[Details removed] So that's why this one kiss yesterday evening was special. Somehow healing. It wasn't the kiss of a promise. It belonged only to its own moment. (I hardly knew [Name Witheld-2] at all! We'd just met moments before!)
[Name Witheld-2] and I had just met at [a bar]. I was telling him about my work toward creating a chapter of GayOutdoors, as well as another club for LGBT folks and their admirers, when -- strangely, suddenly, out of the blue -- he asked me if I liked kissing. Puzzled, confused by the non sequitor, I said that I did. He then asked if I would kiss him. I paused and thought about it. He's quite attractive. But I had to say "We'll see" -- with a soft smile. It seemed to me we should know each other better before I decided the situation merited kissing. But he urged me forward, and so I bent toward him and we kissed. We'd met only maybe twenty minutes before! (Weird!)
It didn't take long for mutual attraction to be felt and realized between us. And [Name Witheld-2] is the sort of fellow who comes right out with whatever's on his mind, very direct. And so we were talking (so soon!) about what may and may not occur. He had been informed of my polyamory-- a topic emerging out of the natural flow of getting to know one another a little. (I had to explain why I wasn't involved in certain gay men's activity groups. He thought my having a partner explained it, but I said no, as I'm always open to meeting men for "romance.")
[Name Witheld-2] has a partner of many years. Yet he and his partner haven't had a sexual relationship for X years. [Identifying details removed.] In the vocabulary of polyamorists, [Name Witheld-2] is sexually non-monogamous, but emotionally monogamous. Or, more probably, he's sitting on the fence between these two -- scared of moving his ass. But the glimmer in his eyes, and some of his words, indicate a desire and a capacity to connect on a heart level -- feelingly.
When he let me know he was interested in me, but his heart would belong 100% to his partner, I quickly let him know I found that "uninteresting". At about the moment of my uttering the phrase "how uninteresting," I really wanted to move away from him and our conversation, perhaps meet another guy, or sit by myself at the bar.
"That's very dangerous, what you ask for," he said, "that polyamory." Did he think I was asking for that from him? I was only telling him the fact of the matter when I said, "If you and I were to be sexual, my emotions would be involved." That was a simple, almost scientific fact being reported, not a request from him. (His sexual interest in me was clear enough by then.) If I were to have sex with anyone at this point in my life, it would be "making love," for I simply cannot divide myself down the middle the way so many gay men do. Or men do. Or people do... Meaning, my heart and my skin are conjoined. My cock and my heart are conjoined. My kisses and my heart are certainly conjoined. I suppose I'm more "like a girl" in my loving than so many queer guys. I have loving in my loving, and can't seem to divide one from the other.
What I wonder about what happened between [Name Witheld-2] and me is, was there tenderness in the tenderness we shared? Is he another [Name Witheld-1]? Did he steal that kiss? Or give it?
He had to go, suddenly, when I was finished peeing in the men's room. (I'd asked him to stay put when I got up to pee.) And so I embraced him and said, "See you around."
I'm more than a little tempted to be at the bar again this evening, just to see if he's there.
Am I nutz? Shouldn't I forget about this unavailable man?