The View From My Knees

Original photo by Lucky

“I’ve never gotten so many handjobs in my life.”

“I know,” I replied. “I feel like I’m back in high school.”

It was funny, and yet it still made me a little sad as I washed the lubricant off of my hands in the bathroom sink. Here we were, two thirty-something adults who grew more and more passionate about each other by the day, and we were forced to limit our sexual interaction to things we could do with our hands. It was frustrating. Frustrating when we were lying naked next to each other and wanting nothing more than to be as close as two people can be, and also frustrating that this restriction was because of someone else’s fears.

I understand Mac’s fears, I really do, but it’s hard not to blame him for the frustration I feel when I can’t fully express my growing feelings for Vincent. It feels like something is going to give, and I honestly don’t know what. Will it be this budding new relationship? Will Vincent and I grow tired of our limitations and fizzle out? Or will it be a 2 1/2 year love affair? Will I continue to resent Mac for this ultimatum until I see him only as a selfish figment of the man that I thought loved me more than his fears?

I know how overly dramatic this all sounds. I am aware of how caught up I am in this new relationship energy, so that everything seems much bigger than it really is. That’s why I’m trying so hard to remain cool and not make any rash decisions. I just have to keep reminding myself that things will even out, that we will eventually find some kind of compromise that is satisfactory to everyone. Won’t we?

Original photo by Lucky

…I was basically wrecked all day long and barely made it through work because I was getting really freaked out about what’s going on…

Normally, Mac was a man of few words. The Strong Silent Type, some might say. It was so rare that anything seemed to bother him that when he did speak up you knew it was serious. I knew he had strong feelings on the matter, but until I read his email I had no idea this had been bothering him so much. I felt terrible that I had caused him so much anguish, and even more awful that I was considering asking him for a compromise that I knew would be upsetting. I stared at his email for several minutes before I replied, rereading it over and over.

…I have a lot more to say than what’s here. lets talk about this soon.

How selfish I’d been. Here I was, about to ask Mac to agree to take a risk with his health and his sexuality just so that I could fulfill my desire to be intimate with Vincent. Yes, my feeling for Vincent were strong, and growing stronger every day. But was it fair for me to ask for such a sacrifice for someone I’d only known a few weeks? Was it ever really fair of me to ask it at all?

In my reply I assured Mac that I now realized how important this was to him and that nothing would happen until we’d had a chance to talk more. We agreed to see each other the next night. As I mentally prepared for our talk I realized that this just wasn’t the time to ask for compromises. Right now Mac’s feelings were my priority and I needed to put my own desires aside to focus on making him feel safe and comfortable.

I guess somewhere in the back of my mind I’d hoped that I’d be able to calm Mac’s fears and still come to some kind of compromise, but as we talked the next night I began to realize that this was unlikely to ever happen. His feelings were so strong, his fears so pronounced, that discussing it further seemed futile. At the end of the night I left with a heavy heart and a promise on my lips:

“While I can’t promise that I will never bring it up again, I do promise you that I won’t move forward with a a sexual relationship with Vincent without discussing it with you. I’m not going to call you up one day and say, ‘guess what I did last night.’”

It was a promise I thought I could keep.