This story is old, I know, but it goes on

As I've done before, I began a full write-up of my much-anticipated conversation with BB but petered out before I got it into a shareable form and never came back to it. At this point, I doubt I ever will so the tl;dr is: It went well and we decided we'd try to continue being friends.

How's that going? Pretty well, actually, except when it's not. Which is basically what I expected. A breakup is a grieving process and grieving processes are nonlinear. That is, seen from afar, there may be a discernible trend away from sorrow and into acceptance but from day to day, the swings can be wild. You can have a smooth couple weeks or even months and then something comes along that completely throws you for a loop.

Which is basically what I think happened to me last weekend. Since our Valentine's Day weekend conversation (don't think for a moment the irony isn't lost on me), we've gotten together at least every other weekend. Mostly it's been hitting the bars, though for his birthday I took him out for brunch at a place called Superkhana International, which is easily the best dining experience I've had all year. There have been pangs, but nothing crazy. So when we made plans to attend a queer desi dance party hosted by Trikone Chicago, I wasn't expecting it would be much different than the last several times we went out together.

But there was something about that night. First off, it was a great event. The venue was subpar, mostly on account of terrible bar service. But it was a nice space, the music was excellent, and the crowd were all-in--including BB. I was concerned he might consider it all a bit cheesy, but no, he was so into it he was absolutely radiating happiness like I'd never seen before. At one point he shot a video to send to his sister, who was also "doing gay Indian shit" that weekend, he informed me with an enormous grin.

And as a result, he looked beautiful. More beautiful than I think he ever has before. And of course my stubborn-ass brain had to point out, "This would be a perfect night if only we were here as a couple." At the time though, I was able to wash the thought away with gin. The event came to a close, BB suggested moving on to Touché, and I found someone to mess around with in the backroom. Sunday I was too tired and emotionally drained to process much so it was Monday that my anxieties really struck.

Analysing it for the benefit of clintswan, I said my brain was fixating on the fact that all I wanted was to see him that happy forever but that I knew I was never going to be the person to make that happen. That, in turn, set off the fear that I would never be able to make anyone that happy ever again, that it's just going to be random tricks and occasional sex with friends until my body gives out and I eventually die alone. That's probably too neat an explanation, but all those things were mixed up in why I couldn't drag myself out of bed until an hour after I was supposed to have been at work.

The other thing I've been pondering is a conversation I had with JB about five years ago. It was a heart-to-heart after a breakdown in our gaming group and at one point he told me, "I love you, I think part of me is still in love with you." JB and I have known each other for at least 25 years; I don't know when he fell in love, but 1999 is when he told me.

In considering what would finally get me over this guy, I first thought I could achieve that by willpower alone. Then I thought, okay, it'll take falling for someone else. Now I'm forced to confront the possibility that I will always be in love with him, at least a little bit. Like my grief for monshu, this won't be something that I'll ever "get over", it'll just be something I manage. And some days will just be better than others.

Balanced

Since I never like to share too depressing a post without leavening it with a little good news, here are some things going well right now. In the area of sex, guys are starting to want my dick again (I'll never understand why this ebbs and flows as it does) and I was able to have some fun with an old buddy last Saturday. "I'm so glad we became lovers" he said as I collapsed on top of him and--for all that he's annoyed me over the years--I am too. There's another guy who I met after that birthday brunch with BB when, at Clint's suggestion, we all hit 2Bears Tavern, the new gay bar, together. We've tricked once and it was so nice and relaxing I nodded off. He's been pretty emphatic about a rematch, we just haven't managed to schedule anything.

On the friendship front, I'm quickly becoming close with a guy who's just moved here from Phoenix. We only met at a party two weeks ago and since then we've met for brunch, had a drink at Anvil together, and chatted almost every day. He's also been over to my house twice, most recently just yesterday--that's right, the same day I almost couldn't get out of bed. I saw he was in the neighbourhood for a job interview, so I invited him to stop by and tell me how it went in the hopes that it would motivate me to human. And it worked. That night he asked about why I'd been so down and we ended up talking about our death-related fears for twenty minutes or so.

Tonight I have dinner with someone I've always thought was neat but haven't managed to get together with since before COVID. He posted to social media yesterday about how, if this has happened to anyone, it's not them, it's him and vowing to do better going forward. Thursday I'll probably be meeting some pals for a drink, Friday night JB is taking me to a concert at the Old Town School, and Saturday Clint and I are driving down to Blue Island to see one of our favourite people in the world.

Clint, btw, just continues to grow on me. He was working from home yesterday so I walked into the kitchen to find roast potatoes and air-fried chicken timed to be ready to serve moments after my arrival. Sunday, seeing how lethargic I was, he dragged me from the house to buy cat supplies and go for a drive to Montrose Point. In general, he's just keeping an eye on me, checking in frequently and offering his unconditional support. So for all my moaning about being so very alone, I'm actually in damn good hands.