How it all went down

Maybe this is for posterity, but many bore witness to this week so I wanted to let you know how it really happened.

The circumstances were simple - we met online. Wrote frantically, lingered for hours on the phone together. There was an instant heartfelt connection, shared experiences and upbringing had brought us to the same place. I came out on Wednesday. It's early Monday morning now.

We met after dinner on Wednesday night. I went to his place, we shared a bottle of wine and talked for hours. I drove home hazy and delighted at 3am.

We started Thursday with babka and coffee at his place. After we finished breakfast, we walked through the neighborhood looking at trees, plants, houses, gardens. Our walk took us to a beautiful cemetery that was pearched atop a hill. We sat next on a bench talking about the engraving before us - about the limited number of times we can draw from the well - about how many times we are granted the opportunity to do something like visit our families, spend time with good friends, eat dinner together. From there we walked through my favorite park, lingered in my old neighborhood (admiring the new art installation), and had lunch. A trip to Seattle's new library followed - 10 floors of ramps and modern architecture, vantage points, secret spots, splashes of color all for us to discover. We took in every last view before walking back uphill for a late afternoon coffee and then a quiet dinner together. We went back to his place and talked some more, then I left.

I thought Friday would never arrive. I'd spent almost every waking moment with him the previous day, talking and looking and laughing. He drove us to breakfast and then to our first viewpoint of the day looking out from Queen Anne across Lake Union. We stayed for a long time taking it all in. Then a quick drive past the house he lived in, and a long stop at Gasworks where we put our bare feet in the sundial at the top of the hill and looked over the city in front of us. We sat quietly together for a long time. Our last viewpoint of the day was from the marshy hiking trails along Foster Island and the Arboretum, parking at MOHAI and walking through the woods. Warblers, finches, jays - all came out for song and we stood looking over the canal towards school. He drove us back to his place, I left and he went to work. Late after work we met for drinks. And talk.

Saturday started with babka and coffee again - we knew this would be a short day because he was working and I was supposed to leave. We ran a small errand, walking through the neighborhood and winding up at a smaller library and then a lingering walk through a new grocery store. We walked home, laughing and talking the whole way. Not catching any real emotional pull thus far, I asked how it was all working for him. He was gentle when he told me he just didn't feel any more than what was just there. I knew then, I had known already. Unable to tell him how I felt (it was just too emotional), I went back to the medium where we were most comfortable and I wrote. The flight sold out. I had drinks with another friend that night.

This morning I knew he had read what I'd said - there was a new strain to his voice, a searching not present before. But we were determined to have the wonderful weekend we'd promised ourselves and we decided it best to just enjoy each other's company for the rest of our time. We had breakfast again and walked to a wonderful bakery to buy dessert for later. We went back to his place to talk, and soon afterwards I left so he could go to work. Tonight it rained for the first time all week. I offered to pick him up and take his bike home so we could have our dessert together. He graciously accepted. We got back to his place, made coffee and ate dessert, lit a few candles and listened to music. And talked. Then he walked me back to my car, gave me a hug and said goodbye.

It's been a long time since I've put myself in a place like this - and I suspect it will be a long time before I do it again. The weekend was the best I'd ever had, bittersweet though it was. He is a gem, mold broken, a man in the truest sense of the word (and a gentleman at that, gracious and polite and so real). This, my friends, is what it feels to ache, to want, to hope and to live.

I hope to make a flight later this morning, because my time here is done for now. I will see you all soon.