Michael and Me - 1. Chapter 1 Michael and Me

Michael and Me

told by T. Landon

The guy in the mirror didn’t look nervous, but I was. It was my wedding day. I never thought I’d be here, never thought anyone would want me. I guess anything is possible.

A dear friend called my husband-to-be my miracle. He is all that and more. I’d like to share with you how I met Michael, my beautiful, wonderful husband.

<><><>

Once upon a time, I was a rent boy. A street kid. A junkie. I lived on the street for seven long years; I self-harmed, sold myself. Eventually I got off the street with the help of a hospital chaplain named Paul; he helped me find work and a place to live. I went to high school at twenty-two and worked a full time job.

To give back, I helped to serve lunch at a men’s shelter, run by Paul. He suggested doing something positive would make me feel better too. It did and at the shelter people didn’t see my scars, they only saw me. I felt comfortable there and often would sit and talk to the lost and lonely.

It was taking me a long time to finish school. I think I spread myself a little thin. But my life changed dramatically just after my 26^th birthday. I was nearing my last months in school.

I still got depressed and still cut myself sometimes. I also got addicted to gay porn – so badly that I couldn’t get off sexually unless I watched it. I knew these things weren’t healthy so I forced myself to stop watching porn and tried to follow my doctor’s suggestions to stop cutting. The cutting would take a bit longer to stop.

In March when I was 26, I was helping serving lunch at the Mission when Paul introduced me to my partner in gravy, Michael. He was tall, my preferred type, big, solid and strong. I’m slim, about 5’11” and was just attracted to bigger men. Paul put him beside me to serve potatoes while I served gravy.

He was okay and was always trying to get me to talk. I knew he wasn’t one of us, not a street person, or a prostitute or a junkie. Because he wasn’t, I didn’t trust him much. I was polite but just wished he’d shut up. He talked about the weather, about baseball – which I liked but wasn’t going to tell him that – about UFC and mixed martial arts – which I also liked – and he talked about his family. Family, no thanks I don’t want to know how great they are.

Not interested in knowing him, I finally said to him, “Dude can you just shut up while you’re serving. I am seriously not interested in your shit.” He looked at me and shut up but not for long. Ten minutes later he asked, “Why are you such a bitch?”

“Huh? I’m a bitch? Piss off.” I wanted to pour gravy on his head.

“You’re gay right?” He spooned mashed potatoes on to a plate.

“Not that it’s your business, but yes … so?”

He said nothing and we finished serving lunch in silence.

After lunch service is complete the volunteers were allowed to eat. I took my plate and sat down. Suddenly, Mike is there across from me. Rude! I’d been brought up to ask if I could sit down!

I glared at him, finished my mouthful. “What the fuck do you want?”

“Just interested in getting to know you. I’m gay, too.” He chewed his meatloaf.

“Great. I’m happy for you.” I speared green beans like they were the enemy.

“You always such a bitch?” He was getting a little angry with me, I could see it.

“Only with straight assholes like you. Mister, I’ll make myself feel better by serving lunch to the poor.”

He stared at me. “I’ve always wanted to help people. It’s why I became a cop.”

“Fuck you’re a cop? Go away. Not interested.”

“Just like that?”

“Yep just like that. I don’t need a fucking cop in my life.”

He finished eating and walked away. Good riddance.

I didn’t see him again for a couple of weeks.

When I did, the same thing happened; he just dropped in the seat across from me after lunch service. I ignored him but he poked me in the chest from across table to get my attention. “You know that cops are people. I’m more than my fucking uniform. I am a man. And I’d just like to get to know you better, that’s all.”

I looked at him. He was built, very sexy, I’d for sure look twice if he walked by me on the street. He has big brown eyes, dark short hair – a handsome man. “Why me, dude? I mean you’re hot, you have a good job, why you need to slum?”

He put his two fingers under my chin and lifted my head and waited until I met his gaze. “Oh I see, so you’re not good enough for me, huh? Well, I like what I see, too.”

We sat quietly for a few minutes until he went on. “Look Tim, I’m only asking you to let me buy you a coffee. I have no other agenda. Coffee that’s it.”

“Fine. Then you’ll leave me alone, yeah?”

He just grinned.

<><><>

So we went for coffee. I admitted I like UFC and baseball, Mike laughed and shook his head.

A couple of weeks later we went out again. I found I liked him. He was easy to talk to, caring and kind. I told him about my past, that I’d been on drugs and on the street and that I had an arrest record.

We were eating ice cream at the time - I like watching him eat. Weird I know but I do. He finished the mouthful and stuck the spoon back in the bowl. He looked at me “You any of those things now, Tim?”

“No. You know I’m in school and working.”

"I’m not gonna judge you by what you were. And in my experience, most people don’t really want the life you led. I’m sure there are reasons you were there.”

Two weeks later he took me to my first baseball game. I felt special being there with him. He took me home afterward. I was a little disappointed he didn’t kiss me goodnight. But I know now Mike knew exactly what he was doing.

Our next date was another baseball game. He mentioned there was a UFC pay per view on afterwards, and if I would like to see it, I could come back to his place to watch it. I wanted to see it so I agreed. We had a great time at the Blue Jays game and we stopped to buy a pizza to eat while we watched UFC.

We sat in his apartment on the couch. He put his arm around me; I snuggled into his warm massive body. I felt safe and comfortable and happy.

It was late when UFC finished and Mike said I could spend the night in his spare room. I did. A couple of hours later, Mike was waking me from one of the horrible recurring nightmares I have. He took me into his bedroom, which I resisted at first. “Shh, Timmy. I’m not gonna rape you. We’re just gonna sleep.” And we did, he pulled me up against his solid body and held me. I slept peacefully the rest of the night.

Things changed between us after that. I found I trusted him. Thought of him all the time and I wanted him. I’d had sex lots of times; I never liked it, most of the time it meant nothing. But Mike did something to me. He liked me, saw me. And I felt the same.

Our first kiss happened after he’d taken me to dinner and a movie. He’d walked me home to my little room and came inside. I just hung on to him as he held me. Then as I looked up at him, he kissed me softly. Like the touch of a feather. I’d never felt anything like it before – it was sweet and hot and I wanted so much more. Michael could have done anything he wanted with me at that moment.

By the time we actually made love, I was in love, totally gone and wanted only Mike.

<><><>

We’d been seeing each other about six months before we made love. Mike had said he wanted to take things to the next level. And though I’d done it many times, the thought of being with Mike made me anxious. He made me dinner that night and after coffee we sat on the couch and necked like teenagers. I was so ready but also nervous. I knew he was ready too; he took my hand and walked me down the hall to his bedroom.

He stopped outside the door and kissed me. “You still want to do this Timmy? It’s okay if you don’t.” I nodded.

He took my hand and we walked in together. He undressed me slowly. I was embarrassed by the scars I have from cutting myself. Mike just touched them and kissed me telling me they didn’t matter; they were just part of me. He pulled off his t-shirt, he was in amazing shape, I ran my hands over his perfect pecs and down his wash-board stomach. We’d had oral sex so I knew he was big but was still amazed when he removed his boxers. Michael was perfectly formed – beautiful. He pulled me into the shower.

Afterward, he lay me down and made love to me slowly and tenderly. I clung onto him as he entered me. He whispered to me that he loved me as he fucked me gently. My orgasm was nothing like anything I’d experienced before and Mike held me close as I cried, telling me all the while it was okay.

After that I basically moved in with Mike, we were just together all the time. He took me to meet his family which was terrifying to me. Mike had told his folks about me and my past. I felt like the main course. Of course the evening was nothing like that. Mike’s family is Ukrainian and they were happy and fun and made me welcome. Michael’s mom kind of swept me up and adopted me.

They are wonderful people all of them. I love them so much. Mike said he sat his parents down before he went to Police College to tell them he was gay. He said they didn’t blink an eye. Said it didn’t matter as long as he was safe, respected himself and others and that he be the man they’d brought him up to be. He hasn’t let them down.

It was a year after we first started seeing each other when Mike took me to Edwards Gardens. It’s a lovely place filled with gardens and flowers and beautiful trees. There are streams and pools; chipmunks and squirrels everywhere. It’s always filled with wedding parties, there for their pictures. Mike said he walked there often when he’d lived nearby. He took me to see his favourite place. It was pretty; surrounded by weeping willows, there was a small pool and rocks with a little waterfall. It was quiet and I stood there looking at it when Mike stepped up behind me and pulled me back against him. His arms slipped around me and he bent and kissed my neck. “You love me baby?”

I smiled and said, “Of course I do.”

He turned me around then and kissed me, hard, holding me tightly. Then he held me away and slipped down onto one knee. I watched him, scared; in my head screaming no, no, no.

“Tim, I love you so much. Will you marry me?”

Oh my god.

I was so not ready for this. I just wasn’t. I wasn’t good enough, not to commit to, not forever….

“Mike … Mike, baby I’m so sorry … No.”

He didn’t move. His face didn’t, his body didn’t. Not for a few seconds and then he got up. His face was red, I could see the hurt. “No?”

I didn’t know what to say to him. “Mike … I ….”

“No? Okay.” He dropped my hand. “Can you get home from here?”

“Um I guess.”

“Okay. I’ll talk to you later.”

And he left me there. Alone. Fuck. I’d never felt so alone. Never. I watched him walk away from me. I wanted to scream I love you. I wanted to cry. I did cry as I walked to the bus stop.

He didn’t call me that night or the next day. I wondered why I’d said no. I loved him. He was the man I dreamed of saving me. But then I remembered what I was. Not good enough and never would be. Junkie. Whore.

By the fourth day I was giving thought to finding some gear – heroin – to take away the pain. I missed him so much. I called into work sick and I lay in bed and slept or cried. I rarely ate, not caring. I couldn’t believe I’d turned him down, said no to the man I loved and adored.

About eight o’clock on the Friday I was woken by a pounding on my door. I groaned and pulled the pillow up over my head. Eventually it stopped. But it was back at 7 am on Saturday. Bang, Bang, Bang.

Swearing I got up and pulled open the door. “What the fuck? Do you know what time it is?”

He stood there in his cop uniform. “I know what time it is.” He pushed me back into the room and stepped in and closed the door. I opened my mouth but he told me to shut up and sit.

I obeyed.

“Do you have any idea how badly you hurt me, Tim?” He didn’t sit but paced in my tiny room.

“How the fuck could you? I love you, you stupid prick. I’ve loved you, taken care of you, and been there, cared. Treated you like you deserve and you tell me you love me. For the last eight months you’ve told me. Then when I give you my heart and soul and ask you to marry me, not something I do lightly, you throw it all back in my face. How – the – fuck – could – you?” He was loud, nearly yelling at me. I know I deserved it.

I opened my mouth to try to explain but again he told me to keep it shut. “No. I do not want to hear it. I’m gonna ask you a few questions. Be honest or I swear you and I are finished. You got it?”

I nodded.

“Do you love me?”

“Yes, Mike.”

“Do you need more time?”

“Yes, Mike. I need to talk to you about things.”

“Okay, I’ll give you more time. You have three months from today. Yes or no.”

“’K.”

“I’m pretty pissed, Timmy. But I’ll come and pick you up after work. You okay with that?”

“Yeah.”

“Fine. I’ll be here at eight o'clock.” His shoulders sagged then and he reached for me; pulling me into his arms. “This is where you belong. Here. Close to me. Don’t let me down again Tim.”

I just held him tight and closed my eyes. In my head I swore I wouldn’t.

<><><>

We got married with my brother Joey, Mike’s family and friends present on December 18^th, in a chapel in Toronto’s City Hall. Mike looked amazing in a black suit and I wore gray. The minister said a few words and then we said our vows. We’d decided to write our own.

Michael turned to me and took my hands in his. He looked into my eyes and said, “When I first met you Tim, you couldn’t wait to see the back of me. But where you saw a guy not worthy, I saw a beautiful soul, who had survived untold hardships. Tim, it took us something to get here and I know marriage is challenging. But I believe in you and us. Today I pledge my love, my body and soul to you. I give you this unending circle of gold, wear it knowing it is my heart and that it is always with you.”

I couldn’t stop my tears. I wiped my eyes and I could hear Leysa, Michael’s mom crying too.

Michael smiled and me and whispered, “It’s okay just take your time.” I nodded, swallowed and said the vows I’d written for Michael. “Michael, I didn’t become Tim until I met you. Your love showed me who I am and who I can be. I know learning this hurt you sometimes and while I’m sorry for that, I know you understand why it had to be that way. I love you, Michael. You are my man, my lover, my best friend. I pledge my body and soul to you. I will love and honour you always. I give you this ring. It’s a symbol of my unending love for you.”

Then the minister pronounced us married. We partied long into the night and then we went back to Michael’s apartment for the night. I don’t think I need to tell you what we got up to.

We are going into our 6^th year of marriage. I brought with me baggage from my past, mistakes I still make and I know I’ve hurt Michael more than he deserves. But even in the face of all that, he remains solid, my anchor in a world I sometimes don’t understand and even fear.

I know where my heart belongs and like the great poet Maya Angelou said, ‘If you find it in your heart to care for somebody else, you will have succeeded.’

Et la vie continue ….