I walked in the bar and my heart dropped to my stomach. All it took was one glance in his direction.
Ball hat pulled low. Sacrilige. Hiding those crystal blue eyes.
Handle bar mustache. He’s drawn like a Tom of Finland dream.
I just want to grab hold and steer him to the door.
His shirt comes off. Mine does too, pulled off by a dude in a harness who soon fastens one to me. But my eyes are on him and that 70’s retro monstrosity crawling over his lip.
I want to kiss him.
My friends tell him so and when I order my next drink he is leaning over the bar pouring himself into my mouth.
It’s dirty. I know.
It’s not like me. I know this too.
But everything about him makes my body turn itself inside out. I want to swallow him. He’s surprisingly gentle as his furry lip presses against my own.
It feels amazing. I want to do this all night. And maybe we will. I’m already counting the minutes to take him home.
It’s not like me. I know.
It’s dirty. I know this too but tonight we’re going retro.
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I finally understand the hurt I caused you.
It wasn’t intentional. I promise.
I guess I wanted to be better, wished I could learn to love you.
I can’t control my heart. Even if it tears me in two to love him.
I could write a hundred sonnets and still not be finished describing you in perfect detail.
The words, and they are all I have, are of no consequence.
But at least they’re proof. We will never be together. I understand this and accept it.
How can a man who loves women be with a man who loves men?
And yet the devil is in the details. And in the details we’re in love.
You told me so, a marriage proposal no less, though you weren’t down on one knee.
I can’t explain how the very thought of you, even thousands of miles away utterly fills me.
My molecular structure is in tune with your very name. Conjure it and my body alights.
I love you, I always will. Until this flame is extinguished and I pass forward onto a new existence. My only hope is that in that lifetime we are destined together.
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