Attraction - 9. Chapter 9 – Journeys to make

Like most things I fuss about in life, my visit to Kent in Seattle also turned out to be a no-brainer. He caught summer flu and took to bed. In the end I had to take Friday off. So pathetic did he sound when we spoke on Thursday, I drove down that very night.

Armed with a box of soup and Cara’s blessings (I was surprising him, so asked her for the address to his apartment) I turned up in his city. When I called him from outside his building it took quite a few rings before he picked up.

“Can you buzz me in?”

“What?” he sounded spent.

“Buzz me into your building, I am here.”

“You’re here?”

“Yes Kent, baby, I am here. Will you tell me how to get inside your building?”

He told me the access code after a pause, having given up on trying making sense of it I suppose. Still, he managed to come to the door before I reached it. There he was, my pathetic looking Hot Shot, his nose red, eyes glassy, wearing a crumpled t-shirt and boxers. I dropped the bag on floor as this huge tower of a man got on his knees to bury his head in my stomach.

“I am so glad you came. I need you.” He mumbled into my shirt.

On Friday, I took him to the doctor and by Sunday morning with the help of gallons of soup, paracetamol and antibiotics, the fever finally broke. In the meantime whenever he would feel a little stable Kent would give me his sweet little smile. We were refraining from intimacy but I would place kisses on his forehead or on his hand, just to make him feel better. He would smile fondly and I would tell him that he can kiss me senseless once he was better.

I have heard women say that men turn into babies when they are sick. Watching Kent burn with fever and being absolutely restless, I realized there may be some truth in it. He needed me to touch him all the time. It made me sweat, but I was quite dedicatedly holding onto him. Even when I was in kitchen I would try to keep talking and stay within his visibility. Otherwise we just spent hours on the couch, me sitting up, he spread put, his legs on my lap; watching TV. Was I like this when I got sick?

By Sunday afternoon he was feeling much better. He took a proper shower; I had given him sponge baths previous couple of days. Finally, he got his arms around me as he nuzzled my hair the way we both loved. I was looking at the view from his balcony.

“You know, you’ve got quite a nice view yourself.” Puget Sound Bay and Seattle Space Needle adorned the sight. Sunset had painted magnificent colors on the sky.

“I know. But nothing's any good without you around.”

It was typical for us to talk like this when he would leave from Portland. I guess it was no different with me doing the leaving. This Good Bye seemed to have a different kind of intensity to it though.

“I wish I could take leave tomorrow” he said. “I don’t want to let you go.”

“I think we should be glad that you’re better now. We both have a lot of work to catch-up on.”

“I know.” He tightened his grip around me. It was his habit to show his affection thus whenever he felt particularly strongly towards me. “It sucks we don’t live in the same city.”

This conversation seemed destined for dangerous waters. I knew he was bound to feel gratitude for my help and develop a little more attachment than what he would have felt had we gone to Mt. Raineer instead. But the truth was, we had only been together for six weeks. Besides, I could not help being wary about the novelty of this whole thing (I mean gay thing) getting to his head. To avoid further conversation I turned around and kissed him. It was not insincere or anything. I hadn’t tasted him in a week. He was equally desperate and things escalated soon as we fell on the carpeted floor, all limbs and moans. I had to pull away before our clothes came off and got me late.

“I must go.” I said with my forehead against his.

He just kept breathing heavily without moving. Where was this incredible man taking me? He was at once a rock of certainty and a passion filled volcano. I was lying on top of him feeling the heat come out of his body, almost ready to lose myself in the fire within. Curbing the urge to kiss again, I pulled myself up, giving what I hoped was a warm smile. He too stood up and I smoothed out the creases on his shirt. I managed to elicit a very sad little smile from him.

As my car was taking me away from Seattle and Kent, I wondered why my feelings for him were scaring me so much. After all, I had been waiting all my life for someone like him. Things were looking so good. He seemed as crazy about me as I was about him, if not more. I should have been happy. Instead, I was terrified of what might be ahead. May be we were driving too fast and being wary of a wreck was normal?

It had been a long time since I had thought of Jeremy. In our boyhoods we had lived two blocks apart and grown up as best of friends. From elementary school all the way to sophomore year in high school we had been inseparable. The start of high school was a tumultuous period in my life. My parents, after years of bickering were ready to part ways. Rational as their divorce seemed even to a thirteen year old like me, I could not help feeling lost. Despite how much I hated their self-absorption, I could never fault my parents in how much they tried to prevent me from feeling abandoned. It was not their fault that I was undergoing too many physical and mental changes when they were trying to figure out their own lives. Jeremy was my confidant at this time. His doors were open for me anytime things at home got unbearable. We spent numerous nights talking about everything under the sun, trying to understand life and the injustice of it. With him by my side, everything seemed like an adventure. He was the first boy I fell in love with.

At the time, I like to believe I was a little less neurotic; but definitely more needy. Although self-preservation made me hide my true feelings from Jeremy, it did not keep me from always wanting to be around him. I must give that boy credit for how much he put up with. It was inevitable that girls, cool friends and bitter high-school gossip would force him away. It was gradual, his exit from the inner realms of my life, and not less painful because of it. I did not bother with making new friends. Transactional relationship with geek squad was enough to get through high-school.

I never hated Jeremy. Somewhere inside me I knew he would be there in my moment of true need. It was not wishful thinking. In hallways he made it a point to say Hi. He sent cards on my birthday and Christmas despite my never responding back. He carried on with this practice all the way to second year of college. He stopped feeling guilty then I guess. By that time I was out of the closet and knew my experience to be far tamer than what some of the other kids had been through. I believed quite firmly that Jeremy had guessed the true nature of my feelings for him. I accepted his drifting away, I did not condone it nor did I do anything ostensibly to forgive him for it, just accepted it and moved on.

All these years later, the fact that I was thinking of Jeremy made me revaluate the extent of hurt his abandonment had caused. Was he the reason behind my not being in any relationship ever? Was he the reason behind my second guessing what was happening between Kent and me? Or was it all my parents’ fault and Jeremy had just made the mistake of scratching the scar they had given? I had held on to the belief that I was waiting for that one right person. Was that also an excuse that my mind had invented to prevent me from getting truly involved with anyone? Or was it normal to be scared even if Kent was the one?

How I wish I had a simpler mind!