Say Goodbye to Sparkleland

Say Goodbye to Sparkleland Chapter 15

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15

So, after Martin, there wasn't a big attempt to find more straight guys, huh?" Logan asked.

"No. That's just a minefield of problems. I was so traumatized over So-called Chuck on the Grindr app, I needed to steer clear of straight men. Not that `Chuck' was necessarily straight. Maybe I should call him Denial Chuck."

Logan returned to my drunken experience with my roommate and previous disappointments.

"Did you feel vulnerable at that time? You had things sort of blow up in your face. You attempted love, you attempted casual sex — what was your mindset?"

"Abstinence."

"Really!!? You?"

"You make me sound like a sex-crazed addict."

Logan chuckled. "No. I didn't mean that. But for as long as we have been friends, sex has been high on your radar."

"You think so?"

"How many times over the years have we sat in bars and talked about sex?"

"You were half of the conversations, you realize."

"Fair enough. Particularly when I started seeing Nate, I'm sure I overshared those evenings."

"We're both good at sex," I said, half-jokingly.

"YES, we are," he smiled.

I looked at Logan. If times were different, I could see me making a play for him again. We were much younger when I fell for him. But he still has all the attributes that drew me in. It was curious that I was feeling those old embers slightly burning.

But he was with Nate. Happy with Nate. I didn't even need to contemplate such thoughts even for a second. We were such good friends; I didn't need to mess anything up.

Yet, for a moment, his eyes told me he might have been thinking similar thoughts about us together.

"We have time for one more entry," Logan quickly said.

I reached for the book. "Number 15. Reed. Four inches soft. Seven inches hard. Thick girth. Cut. Tons of pre-cum, a real leaker. Loose balls. Stunning bush. Beautiful crotch overall."

"Just his crotch?" Logan sarcastically asked.

"It's all I saw of his body. Well, his face. The other words written were `Nice beard. Azalea Trail. Buff. Black tank top."

"Your words are so random but so interesting. I love Azalea Trail. Nate and I walk there every spring."

"It is a gem of the city. All the park land — it just stretches and stretches beyond the park into the woods."

"I've heard stories about those woods."

"I can confirm they are true."

"Continue."

"Well, to be honest, I had sort of given up on finding Mr. Right. I gave up the bar scene, I wasn't doing apps. I kind of ... not that I'm proud of it ... found solace in the ease of porn."

"No judgement."

"Looking back, I do judge myself. It was free and easy and ... lazy. I didn't have to meet anyone, talk to anyone, spend money on anyone. I think I was just turned off on the concept of love as a whole."

"Mitchell. That's sad. You never really mentioned any of that to me."

"Eh. You and Nate were just becoming a thing. You were starry-eyed in love. I didn't want to be the wet blanket. I just listened to you glow that year."

"Glow. Sure." Logan paused. "But ... yeah. I was head over heels those first few months. I guess I shared our sex life with you." Logan wrote a note. "Did that bother you?"

"Me?"

"Yes. I was having a very enjoyable sex life, and you were cutting yourself off."

"Well, you weren't my only friend. I listened to someone at work, also gay, bitch about his partner and how their sex life took a nosedive. I guess I felt in the middle. I was okay with that. Besides, in that phase, you spent your time with Nate. We only went out for drinks about once a month."

"True. Hopefully me being happy wasn't a discouragement."

"No. I'm obviously not ANTI-happy."

"So ... Reed."

"Yeah. That was different. I knew it wasn't going to be a love story, so-"

"You knew this from the beginning?"

"I did. Reed was sort of on the down low."

"Sort of?

"He was. Not sort of. He was hiding his sexuality from others ... I think."

"Tell me more."

I was so tired of the summer heat. Thank goodness a break in the temperatures was finally making it comfortable again. The 90s seemed endless, but the string of 100-degree days were just brutal. I hated it.

According to my phone, the temperature in Jackson Bend was a cool 79 degrees at 10 o'clock. The high today was only supposed to be 83. Considering the August we had up to that point, it was bliss.

The Azalea Trail was so popular in the spring. Even on weekdays, it could be very crowded. During the summer, walkers and hikers would still enjoy the stroll, particularly the shaded parts. The blooms were always nicer though in the areas that got sunlight.

Several people had the same idea as me. It was nice to be outdoors and not roast. People were pretty good about keeping to the right when joggers were passing. Runners tended to stay in the middle so people could step to the side in both directions.

Three joggers went by me single file. A cute dad, a wife who had her hair pulled back in a ponytail through a visor, and another woman whom I assumed was a sister judging by the facial similarities. I didn't pay them much attention. I just noticed that I heard them puffing.

I had about ten more minutes in the direction I was heading before I would turn around to head back. The entire loop around the woods was almost 90 minutes. I didn't care to do that much walking.

A jogger headed my way. I noticed a dark black tank top on what looked to be a pretty muscular guy. Even from a distance, some black hair showing on his chest drew me in.

Then I couldn't miss it. Follow the bouncing balls ... and dick. This man's genitals were very loose and clearly free within the sheer shorts. I couldn't see anything specific. But bulges and bounces were there. When he got closer, I swore I could make out the contour of his shaft. It looked sizeable.

Did he notice me looking? I met his eyes, and he was looking at me. Did he think I was some sketchy pervert? Had he seen me stare at his crotch? He smiled and moved on.

Twenty minutes later, I had turned back and was halfway through the return stroll to the parking lot my car was in. On occasion, I would see people leave the trail and take skinny paths into the thick woods. One couple were part of a young married family who had a kindergarten-aged kid in tow. A single person took a different path. My gaydar went off on two guys strolling down a different path. I had seen these small trails before — and heard all the rumors since I was in junior high — but I had never been that far into the woods. It was supposed to be close to two miles across at its largest diameter. The entire loop was a little short of six miles.

My tank top jogger was headed my direction again. I loved how his beard was neatly trimmed. There was scruff on his neck; clearly, he didn't have to shave over the weekend. It could have been my imagination, but I thought he smiled when he saw me approaching. It took all my strength to not stare at his crotch — and I failed. I was certain I could see the head of his cock press against the front of his jogging shorts.

"Good morning," he said, making me look him in the eyes again.

"Hi," I said.

"I had gone to the park to enjoy a walk two Sundays in a row. I just noticed this jogger. His dick just bounced and bobbed in his shorts. It was hypnotic."

"Did he notice you looking?"

"Probably."

"You were in this ... let's call it `an abstinence phase.' How did this stranger make you feel?"

"I wouldn't say abstinence necessarily. Not like a conscious effort to not have sex. I just wasn't."

"So, what did your head tell you and what did your heart tell you?"

"My heart wasn't involved. I don't think my head was either. It was my dick more than anything else."

Logan laughed. "Sorry."

The first Sunday in September, Labor Day weekend, the temperature was glorious. I knew it would be nicer in the afternoon, but Tank Top Guy always ran in the mornings. Even at 58 degrees, I still chose a 10 o'clock walk. Sure enough, my jogger did the same.

As he approached, I smiled and made sort of a tip-of-the-hat gesture. He stopped, surprisingly.

"I've seen you on the trail before. I'm Reed."

"Mitchell." I extended my hand.

His grip was slightly sweaty, which made my dick stir.

It was awkward. What did one say to a complete stranger, a stranger who made your cock go "boing"?

"I see you walking in the mornings. Do you ever do evening walks?"

"Not typically. I like to do them earlier on. Then I can shower and get on with my day."

"Well, yeah. I certainly need a shower."

"Sweat looks good on you."

Did I really just say that?? Did I hit on this guy? Would he sock me in the teeth?

He smiled. "Thanks. Would you be interested in an evening walk later this evening. I'm off tomorrow, so I have free time."

That was direct. There was no question that he was interested. I liked his looks, so ... who knows? Maybe this chance encounter could be the love of my life.

"I ... suppose."

"I promise I'm not a serial killer."

"I didn't think that you were."

We smiled.

"How about I meet you at the Mons Creek parking lot? Say, 7?"

"Sure. I'll meet you there."

"I promise I won't be so ripe then," he said.

All I could think about was peeling his sweaty clothes off his body. Then rubbing shower gel all over his body. And rinsing his body. And looking at his body. And feeling his body.

Both our dicks pushed our shorts out in front of us. His looked like an elephant trunk contained in fabric.

"See you then," I said, wondering how he would continue to jog with a growing erection. I started thinking of Grandma Sanders to make mine go down.

"The third time we crossed paths, he kind of ... I wouldn't say hit on me, but it was an invitation. And the crotch I had been staring out for two weeks seemed to react. I accepted."

"What were you expecting at that point? A date? Sex and goodbye?"

"His dick was sizable, from what I could tell. I think a part of me was hoping for sparks."

"Sparks again," Logan said flatly.

"I know. I know."

I smelled fantastic. I had showered with my fragrant gels just before coming back to the park. I wanted to be fresh. Clean everywhere. My hair looked fabulous. I trimmed my beard so that it was well-defined, just like his. It was funny how my beard came and went, but seeing how much I liked his, perhaps I should keep mine more often.

I pulled into the chosen lot and parked. I got out and scanned the area. I didn't see him. A few people were still walking, but it wasn't busy. The temperature had dropped to about 60 degrees.

It was his idea to meet, so I didn't think I was going to be stood up. However, he mentioned a walk. What would happen after that? Dinner. His place? We didn't really know each other at all. Was tonight the night to accomplish that?

A minute later, Reed pulled up next to me. He got out of the car looking very nice. He wasn't stunningly handsome, but still good looking enough. A long-sleeve, navy blue shirt looked sharp on him. He had on white jeans, which made him sexy as hell. I could tell he had shaved.

"Hi," I said. He smiled.

He turned to his car and pulled out a small gym bag. I raised an eyebrow wondering what was in it, but he didn't notice my look.

"Shall we?" he said, gesturing to the trail.

We were a few steps into the walk, and I finally asked. "So, what's in the bag?"

"I thought I might need something later." He left it that. I didn't investigate further.

"So, do you just come to Azelea Park just on Sundays or other days of the week too?" I asked, trying to make conversation with someone whom I knew nothing about.

"Every Sunday. Occasionally Friday evenings."

"Evenings."

"After work. Sometimes, I feel ... being in the park ... will do me some good."

"It is nice."

We walked for a couple of minutes without saying anything. The sun hadn't set and wouldn't for another hour, but it was getting lower. Our long-sleeved shirts were a good thing. Perhaps he had a jacket in the bag.

"It's kind of nice that the woods have several trails," he said.

"I suppose."

"Have you ever explored any of them?"

I hadn't. Everyone who lived in Jackson Bend had heard the stories of gay men going into the woods in the evening to find partners. There were never any reports of police investigating or arrests made. Citizens just "knew." We passed one man, whom my gaydar did go off in a big way, enter a trail. I now assumed that was our agenda. The woods.

"Not really," I answered.

"I'd like to show you one."

We walked for about ten more minutes. We began to lose daylight, but it wasn't dark.

"Here," he said, gesturing to a thin path. "If we wait too long, it may be too dark to find our way back."

"Hm."

We walked about a half mile when we passed man standing alone. He looked us over. His eyes inquired if we were interested. It wasn't more than a minute later that we passed two gentlemen, one receiving a blowjob from another on his knees. All I could think of was all those rumors I had heard for years were obviously true.

Further on, we found an area on the trail that was a little more open. I figured we had about 35 minutes before it would be really dark.

"Here we are," he said.

I had no idea how this was going to pan out. For a split second, I thought about what if he wanted to rob me. He could clearly overpower me. He was buff and strong. He said he wasn't a serial killer, but would a serial killer tell you if he was?

"I think you're quite hot, Mitchell."

"Um. Thanks." I felt weird. Uncomfortable. Unsure of what was going to take place. "I like your body. You've done a nice job with it."

"I've seen you eye my crotch on the trail."

"Yeah."

Reed unzipped his jeans and pulled open his fly. His thumbs pulled the waistband of his briefs down. His cock sprang free. It wasn't hard, but it was growing. I was close enough to where his other hand could reach my arm, and he moved it closer to his waist.

I didn't hesitate. I gripped his dick. It felt thick. It felt firm. It felt nice.

I wanted it.

I dropped to my knees. I took it in my mouth and moaned, tasting its masculine but noticeably clean skin. I wondered what it smelled like when his balls were all sweaty.

Balls.

I took my hands and shoved his jeans down a foot, taking his briefs with them.

"That's it," he said.

I licked his balls. I liked how they hung. My balls were so tight. I wished I had his.

"Nice package," I said.

"Do whatever you like," he said.

As I sucked him, he began to groan. His hands held my head as it moved in and out on his crotch. I didn't realize how much I had missed sex. Porn was fine, but I was enjoying the real deal.

I didn't like it when people were loud during sex, but no one could hear us here. His groaning made me feel like I was doing a good job. Every now and then he would lift on his toes, pushing his cock further into my mouth.

Then he forcefully pushed me off. "Not yet."

I stood. "Can I kiss you?"

"No." The answer floored me. "I don't do that."

He squatted down and opened his bag. A camping blanket was rolled up. With a snap of his arms, he made it fly open. Soon it was spread out. It was about six feet by six feet.

"Take your pants off," he instructed.

I didn't argue.

I wasn't sure what to do after that. I folded my pants at the edge and sat on the blanket. Reed knelt down, his balls and cock still hanging out of his open jeans, and pulled the boxers off my legs.

"Nice cock!" he barked.

In no time, my manhood was in his mouth. He moaned as he consumed it. All of the experience was happening so fast. As the light got dimmer, I found myself overwhelmed. It was like being in a suspense movie where all the possible things with a setting could go wrong WOULD.

But there was no denying a wet, sloppy tongue on my cock was something I hadn't felt in months — it was wonderful.

Reed was as loud as I was, moaning at being sucked and moaning while sucking. He was loving it.

"Get down here," I said.

He lay down opposite me, and both of us were mouth-to-cock. Pre-cum leaked from his dick, stretching down to his navel. My hand reached to play with it. He leaked more. I felt the slick stickiness on my fingers and then fondled his balls with my tacky touch. I knew I had leaked pre-cum too, but it was all in his mouth.

His hand fingered my hole as he sucked my flesh. His middle finger entered me. I groaned into his cock. He explored my inside.

I sucked his hard-on with more stimulation with my tongue. His body squirmed.

Reed took his mouth off my cock. "Mitchell!" Then he roared like a bear as cum shot into my waiting mouth. He didn't ejaculate as much as most of the men I had dated, but I felt the creamy liquid drip onto the back of my tongue.

He kept growling until he was sure he was spent ... and even after that.

"If you can't tell, I enjoyed that."

I laughed into his deflating erection and let it escape the prison cell of my mouth.

He took me again. Slurping. Licking. Tasting. Swallowing.

I erupted as the final rays of the sunset were lowering into the tree trunks. Reed finger fucked me the whole time; he removed it after my orgasm and cleaned off his hands and his crotch with a disinfectant wipe from the bag. He handed me one also.

"We should begin our walk."

We began on the thin trail, heading through the thick woods. We didn't see other men; they must have preceded us.

"I do have a flashlight if we needed it, but we're almost there."

We returned to the Azalea Trail. A few lights in the park were enough to let us walk to the parking lot in the violet sky of twilight.

I was going to suggest dinner once we got back to the cars.

"It was fun, Mitchell. Maybe we'll do it again."

"Oh. Would you like to-"

"No. Sorry. I'm ... on the down low. I can't be seen with other men ... such as you. Such as us. In public. In my building. Sorry."

I was a bit confused and disappointed.

"Good night."

He got in his car.

"It totally didn't work out how I thought it would. We met back up at the park. He took me into the woods, and-"

"So that DOES happen."

"It does." I watched him scribble something, which annoyed me. "Anyway. We did it in the woods. Blowjobs that night. That was it. He had a blanket with him in a gym bag. It was to protect his white jeans, I think. Actually, it made everything more comfortable, I'm sure."

"Then what happened."

"He drove away. He said he couldn't be seen with a gay man."

"Well, isn't that fine and dandy."

"I know."

"So, did that make you feel better or worse after not having any for months?"

"Worse. Kind of. Maybe. Gosh, that was years ago. I do remember feeling disappointed and disillusioned. I sort of felt disposable, actually. It was outrageous and fun and wild ... but unsatisfying."

"It wasn't something to bring you back to look for love again, obviously."

"If we actually dated, I think I might have liked him. I'll never know."

"So just the one time, huh?"

"Three."

"You did it again?"

"The next two Sundays."

"Wow. Never kissed. Never saw each other outside of the park. The second time was really rough. He fucked me standing up against a tree."

"Dear lord, Mitchell!"

"It's funny. I look back on that as totally hot. But the night of ... not so much. At least he had a cloth to put between me and the tree. My dick would have been ripped off by the bark."

"Ouch. Ouch ouch ouch. I don't even want to think about it."

"The last time was a little gentler. We were both on the blanket. Believe it or not, I was completely naked that time. He never was. We arrived earlier and just took it slower. He undressed me. Hot. I wanted to take off his clothes. He only let me unbutton his shirt."

"I want to watch." I rolled onto my back and saw him put on a condom and spread lube all over it.

He lifted my legs up, pushing my ass into the air. I held them there. His tongue licked my hole for a few seconds. "I want that ass."

Reed moved up my body to position his dick at my hole. He moved in too fast. My body jerked in pain. I didn't like it.

"Sorry," he said. He pulled out.

I took a few breaths and then nodded. "Carefully."

Slower this time, he moved in. It didn't feel good, but it was not the sharp pain of the first penetration.

"You're really thick."

"I like that you can take it. Not all men can."

He started slowly. It took a couple of minutes, but because he took his time, it became pleasurable.

I didn't make much noise during this session. Reed did. His groaning at times sounded like he was being stabbed, although I was the one pierced. As I was fucked, I jerked my own erection. It wasn't until my own climax built that I moaned at all. We came at the same time, calling out in pleasure. It was a mutual orgasm.

But there were no sparks.

"Looking back on it now, it seems so outlandish. Naked in the woods. Had we been caught by regular people in the park, we'd have been arrested."

"Thankfully, you weren't."

"But unfortunately, I didn't feel the spark I did with Arlo. I thought Reed's dick might do it, but it didn't happen."

"I think it is probably more than just a penis."

"The next week was rainy, and the week after that was cold. Fall soon moved in. Fucking in the woods in the cold did not seem fun. So that was it. And to be honest, I did a lot of thinking during that pause. It was just not satisfying. Even if it wasn't true love or anything, I still needed more. A date. Hell, a kiss!!"

"He didn't kiss while making love?"

"We didn't make love. We had sex. That's all it was. And I knew it. It wasn't enough. I needed something ... deeper."

"Sounds like you figured things out. Did you retreat back into abstinence?"

"Yes. Actually, I started the job at the firm. Where I am now. I became engrossed in work. Dating wasn't a priority. The new career would allow me to start saving for a house. I was hoping by the time I was 30 that I'd be there. I suppose it was more distraction than abstinence, but ... same thing in the end."

"You dismiss it, but think back to your feelings."

I didn't know what Logan was going for. I'd had brief encounters with partners before. This wasn't that different.

"Yes, I was hoping for ... hope."

"Elaborate."

"I had a moment of hope when Reed showed an interest. I hoped to find love. And ... I knew that it wasn't going to happen. I could fault the weather or the job, but ... yeah, I lost hope. I hoped for sparks, but the real hope was ... I think, the real hope was that love was out there."

"And afterward?"

"I moved on in my mind. Cold weather. New job. I didn't have time to think about hope. Or I made sure that I didn't have time."

"You never tried the trail again months or years later?"

"Not on Sunday mornings. I did the trail in the spring — with half the population of Jackson Bend." I stopped to think back on those brief conversations with Reed. "I wonder if he ever accepted himself. I feel kind of sorry for him now. He wouldn't allow himself to be who he was. He dipped his foot in the pond, but that was it."

"Did you ever call him or anything?"

"He wouldn't even give me his number, even after we fucked."

"Hm. I do hope, wherever he is, that he broke out of that pattern. That isn't healthy at all. The down low is not a way to build self-esteem."

"Well, not my problem. I have enough of my own."

"You're doing well though."

"I seem to just be talking though. Am I really improving?"

"You're sorting through a lot. If there was a fast answer, it would be in a brochure. Going through this a step at a time, you're diving deep. You're figuring out what you want."

"I know what I want. I want Cooper."

"Cooper isn't available. But ... what you're looking for isn't one person. You're looking for attributes, characteristics, qualities ... thinks that make you happy. Cooper fulfilled those, but ... we need to keep digging in. You're getting there."

"And you're getting my money along the way."

"Ouch."

"Sorry. Yeah. I was hoping an answer would be on a leaflet in your drawer, which you handed out."

"I'll see you next week."

I walked out of Logan's building in a daze. Kenneth, Martin, Reed ... they were all so different. Such strange encounters. They all distanced themselves from me in their own way."

As I drove toward my house, I passed the police station. I don't know what possessed me, but I pulled in.

I had no idea what I was going to say when I walked in, but my body seemed to be acting on its own. My brain wasn't engaged. I was still in a daze.

"Can I help you sir?"

"Uh. Maybe. Can you tell me if an Officer Parsons is in this precinct?"

"Yes. He's out on patrol. Is something wrong? Would you like me to call him?"

"No. I'm an old friend. I ... I was just curious. I'll see if the cell number I have for him works. Thank you."

I turned to walk out. I swirled back.

"Is there a Martin Riggs?"

"Precinct 3. Has been for over a year."

"Okay. Thanks. He's an old roommate."

A FFC was next door. I moved my car into its parking lot.

I took a bite of an Extra Crispy chicken breast, staring at the list of contacts in my phone. I still had both Martin's and Kenneth's numbers. I felt like reconnecting with them, but I didn't think Martin would want to see me. He drunkenly fucked me. What straight man wants to be reminded of that?

"Hi Kenneth. It's Mitchell. It's been a while. I was just wondering how you were. You were on my mind today. I hope things are well." Send.

That probably wasn't a good idea. Will it freak him out to read that? It's so random, so out of the blue. What could I possibly get out of such a communication?

However, reconnecting with Arlo and Cruz was nice.

I threw my fast food wrappings in the trash. As I pulled out of the parking lot, I realized Cooper usually went to AA meetings on Wednesdays. The community center was only two blocks away. I parked across the street. I felt like some FBI agent investigating a crime, just sitting in my car waiting for something to happen. Then I saw Cooper's car pull in. As I watched the gorgeous man I still loved walk in — alone — I suddenly felt like a stalker. I felt odd. And creepy.

I drove off, but I didn't feel like going home.

A drink sounded nice. I was three blocks from the gayborhood. I decided to simply treat myself.

I pulled into The Black Stallion parking lot. When I walked inside, it was fairly empty.

"What can I do you for?" the bartender asked. He was a good-looking blonde.

"It seems pretty quiet in here tonight," I said.

"Well, Daniel's is more the happy hour crowd. We get busier later. Still, we have happy hour for another ten minutes."

"Hmm. I'll have a Jack and Coke." I saw the draft spigots. "On the other hand, a cold, frosty one sounds good. You've got Michelob on tap. I'll do that. Two if it's happy hour. He set a frosted pilsner in front of me. The head on the beer flowed over one edge. It looked inviting.

"I'll pour the second one when you're about half done. Start a tab?"

"I don't know. Actually, yeah. Go ahead." I handed him my credit card.

"If you need anything, I'm Layton. That loser at the other end of the bar is Carter."

"Hey! Watch your mouth," Carter barked, lugging two cases of bottled beer. "Don't believe him. I'm loved by everybody."

The cold beverage going down was exactly what I had been craving.

Layton looked like he could be a model in a magazine. Handsome features, beautiful hair. Carter had more of a "leather" look, although he wasn't wearing any leather other than a bracelet. His dark hair was trimmed short on the side but thicker on top. His moustache and beard had a rugged appearance.

I scanned over the club. A DJ looked to be setting up for later. He was handsome too. I can sometimes be drawn in by red hair, but a cowboy hat is a definite plus.

Maybe getting out would be good for me. I didn't need to jump into the dating scene, but being among other gay people could be a boost to my rainbow DNA.

Two guys were sitting in a booth looking all cozy. Good for them. Sucky for me. I hadn't been cozy in months.

I felt my phone vibrate. It was a text.

"Mitchell. It's nice to hear from you. Is it okay to call?"

Holy shit! Kenneth replied.

"Absolutely."

I took another drink. My phone rang.

"Hey, Layton! Delay that second beer for a bit. I need to take this call."

I stepped outside.

"Hi."

"Well, talk about a surprise. You probably would have been the last person I would have expected to hear from."

"It's nice to hear your voice, Kenneth."

"Yours too, man." There was an awkward pause. "So, what made you reach out? I figured you'd never want to hear from me ever again."

"Why would you say that?"

"The way I just sort of ended things. I figured you probably felt I led you on and then skirted off."

"That's not how I felt about it."

"It was a sad time in my life. I wrestled with too much shit. I let being Black and gay torment me too much."

"I did feel for you."

"It was bad for a year and a half. I got married, we had a daughter ... and then I couldn't take it. My wife knew something was up. I finally stood up for myself."

"Well, good for you."

"Divorce is ugly. Both her family and mine were very unkind to me for quite a while. I met Graham shortly thereafter. We're married now. I have joint custody with my ex. Our girl's name is Simone."

"Wow."

"So, you didn't say what prompted you to reach out."

"Oh, you were on my mind today."

"Why so?"

I sighed. "Well, if you must know, I'm ... it's not very flattering, but ... I'm in therapy right now."

"Oh my God. It isn't because of the way I left you, is it?"

I laughed. "No. No, that was okay. We're just discussing previous encounters. I'm having a hard time getting over someone in particular."

"Gosh, Mitchell. I don't know what to say."

"You don't have to say anything. Just hearing your voice has cheered me up."

"Well, thank you. I appreciate you being forgiving ... for all those years ago. It's been ages."

"It has, but I do remember you fondly. I'm glad you are doing well."

"I'd love you to meet my husband, Graham."

"Well, after my session next week, would you like to meet me at The Black Stallion? That's where I am right now."

"Oooo. That would give me an opportunity to dig out my cowboy hat. You're on."

"Wonderful. I'll text you a time."

I went back inside.

Once back at my stool, Layton slid me my second beer. "You have a nice smile on your face. Good call?"

"It was. Reconnecting with someone. An old flame actually."

"Oooo. Rekindled sparks, eh?"

"No. Nothing like that. He's married. He wants me to meet his husband."

"Eek. Will that be awkward?"

"Not at all. I look forward to it." I looked around. "I invited them here next week, but I'm wondering if I should have picked something livelier."

"Hey now. Just hang around for a few hours. It'll pick up."

"I guess two-stepping wasn't the goal anyway."

Carter came over and placed a bowl of pretzels in front of me.

"Thanks."

"Are you new to Jackson Bend?"

"Hardly. I've been here for years."

"We don't see you in here. So, we're glad you popped in."

"I needed to get out. I'm trying to get over someone. A bad breakup, so to speak."

"Well ... you're very good-looking," Layton said. "You'll meet someone new."

"Watch out," Carter said. "He's hitting on you now."

"I am not. I'm just doing my job as bartender."

I had a good time. I only expected to have the two beers, but Layton and Carter kept me company. Talking to Kenneth and being among the gay community lifted my spirits. When I headed home, I was in a good place.

* * * *

Email: timothylane414@gmail.com