• Trying to remember, but the feelings can't know for sure. Try to reach out, but it's gone, Tried to point my finger, but the wind keeps blowin me in circles.







    The first time we met I didn’t really care for his company. Based on our initial conversation I found him to be pretentious, loud, and at a stage of drunk where it is difficult to gauge whether someone is genuinely socially delayed or just really fucking awkward when wasted.  It was so bad I left the bar that night swearing to myself I would never sleep with him and almost wrote him off completely as someone I would even be interested in pursuing a friendship with because I found his behavior so obnoxious. His only saving grace was that he said some really thought provoking things about gender roles and queer politics (cue boner alert), was incredibly smart (also makes me want to beat my dick like it owes me money), and was equipped with a seemingly endless supply of cigarettes. After almost a week of blowing him off while out one evening I was overcome with an urge to smoke and indulge in intellectual conversation and found myself at his place. And following several hours of mostly sober discussions I decided to spend the night.

    I, then stayed at his house often and we were spending a lot of time together in general. And I quickly made myself vulnerable in ways I typically don’t disclosing a lot about my history that is difficult for me to talk about. And eliminating most of the barriers I keep to create distance with other people.  I was just incredibly happy to meet a person who was  interesting and nice to me and wanted to be around me as much as I wanted to be around them. For the first time in years I liked someone and for once it felt like it was reciprocal. It was terrifying and also a completely enveloping feeling, but in all reality it was over before it truly started. The end was when he kept making cryptic comments about turning sex into friendship and then so graciously offered to find someone else to fuck me, which I found humiliating and offensive. These portraits of me were taken on the day I realized we were not going to see each other anymore and there was no way we could still be friends. I was devastated by the way things ended and cried until my eyes were bloodshot and swollen it felt more like a death than a goodbye.  

    The time we knew each other was very short but for me very memorable and included a series of first. The first time I felt truly desired as more than a physical means to an end, the first time I felt like sex was a decision I was making instead of something I felt obligated to do. Even though this experience was painful I am as always grateful for it and the opportunity to learn more about myself.

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