When you said you’d read Wilde, I smiled. When you said you’d read Maugham, my heart fell on the floor. Waugh is good, but Maugham, I mean, Jesus. Maugham is fantastic. When you came back to the apartment after a week of ignoring my texts, I thought there was something off about you. It was in your forehead and eyes. Like someone close to you had died. People your age haven’t experienced real pain and loss, though. Not yet. So it must’ve been something superficial that was bothering you, and I endeavored to find out what it was. You clammed up. I offered you a coffee pod. I have so many and only ever use them when you’re around. Caramel? Macchiato? We both know I prefer tea if I need a little boost. Green tea, or you.
Jerk off for me, I said. I want to see how it is for you. Pretend I’m not here. Let me watch. What do you prefer? Do you finger yourself? Do you need to be watching porn?
The ideal scenario for me involves you coming down to the new house. Now, I’m not sure you’re ready for that kind of arrangement. Will you let me know? Tell me. I need to know if you’re ready to make that commitment. It would only be for a few days at a time, on and off throughout the winter. I cannot do another winter here. I just can’t. And that’s coming from someone who’s experienced London winters. I think younger people are better at putting up with rainy weather. Would you agree? How do you feel about these gray winters?
I don’t want to bombard you with questions. Owen used to talk more than you. He’d go on and on about whatever shows he was watching at the time. It’s different with you. Maybe you’re a better listener, or maybe you don’t feel as comfortable sharing your personal interests with me. I know you like to read, but other than that, I’m not sure what to make of you. I understand the non-binary thing. I mean, I’ve had friends who feel stuck in the middle. Either way, I want you to know it’s OK to let me in. I want to burrow in there. You’re cute, but the way you look at me sometimes makes me think there’s something you’re not telling me.
Ideally, you’d come down to California every couple weeks. This new house is just wonderful. Jürgen fully supports it, by the way. I know you haven’t met him, but he and I have this arrangement that’s about as close to perfection as it can get. Besides, he likes daddies. He’s sworn off people your age. Me, I don’t like daddies. I like people like you. I adore everything about you. I wonder if you’d ever get a haircut.
Owen had just turned 19 when we met him. What made it so different than what I have with you is that I was giving him money from the get-go. You said you weren’t looking for money, and I’m going to hold you to that. Don’t worry about flights. I’ll take care of it, but in terms of an allowance, I’m not convinced it would really benefit you. What happened with Owen was unique. Everyone needs something different in this tapestry of connection. I really do see my relationships, romantic or otherwise, as part of a constellation. We resonate, migrate across the sky, and shine on each other. If I were to pay you, I’m worried it would change things. Imagine how empowering it would be if you were able to lift yourself out of your current situation through hard work and perseverance. I’ve read a lot about your generation. I think you struggle with finding motivation to do hard things. Owen was beautiful. My partner and I both loved him, which is another way the situation was different. He slept with us, ate with us, went with us to London, Paris, all the great cities. He used to jerk off into his coffee in the morning, and Jürgen would drink it. Kind of weird, right? But so sexy. I’d never dream of asking you to do something like that. What I have with you is much more intellectual.
Do you remember when we met a few weeks ago? You were reading Ferrante on a park bench. God, this sounds too idyllic. It was, though. Summers often are. I asked what you thought about the book, and you said she was a genius. I’m not sure I agree, but it was refreshing how you had an opinion so quickly. Most people your age are too wishy-washy. I asked if you’d ever been to Naples. No, you said. You don’t get to travel anymore. It’s too expensive. It makes you anxious because of the pandemic. Well, you’d better get used to traveling. It’s not a long flight from here to Palm Springs, but you’d be doing it several times a year. I’d prefer to put you on one of the more cost-effective airlines, but we can talk about it. If you need recommendations for books to read on the plane, I’m your man.
My favorite thing about Jürgen is that we both have our own separate lives. He has his plants, his favorite podcasts, work trips, and weekly ceviche in summer. I have… Well, you know what I have. Bakeries and boys! I’m kidding, but really. A day is not complete without stopping by the bakery for a treat and then communicating in some way with a beautiful boy. Sorry, I know you don’t see yourself as male. You understand that I come from a totally different world.
When I came of age, the rules were a little different. We were all facing the same battle back then, so it didn’t matter as much what labels we used for each other. Do you know how we used to hook up? Say you found someone at a bar. You’d take him home, get undressed, and jerk off on opposite sides of the room. Because I did that, I’m alive today. Because of the restraint I showed when I was younger, I am here now to tell people what it was like. How scary it was. In fact, it really had a great effect on me. It was like a war.
In the ‘80s, Jürgen and I met briefly at a conference. It wasn’t until almost a decade later that we became lovers. Sometimes the best connections come at the wrong time. I wonder if that’s how it is for you and me. If we were the same age, would we connect? It’s only about 40 years that separates us. You know, this kind of relationship was very common in the ancient world. And I truly feel younger than I’ve ever been. I still walk for miles every single day, as long as the weather permits. You can imagine why I want to move down to Palm Springs. It’ll be better for my quality of life. In these precarious times, quality of life is everything. Did I tell you we installed a hot tub at the new place? Picture evenings with me in the hot tub. Doesn’t that sound nice? Jürgen would putter around in the garden as the sun sets, while you and I do whatever we want to do. He wouldn’t bat an eye. I could even choke you, if you asked.
What happened with Owen is really sad. It’s something that takes a long time to settle in and process. He always had a thing with beer and wine, and later, tequila. When he was drinking, he was this creature of tenderness and desire. Just the most magnificent thing. I should have been more watchful in those early days. Before I knew it, he was behind the wheel of Jürgen’s car, cruising down Burnside. Thank goodness he crashed, because he could have killed someone. If Owen had killed someone, I wouldn’t be seeking out this relationship with you. I’d have less faith in my ability to navigate these relationships with wisdom, patience, and dedication. You deserve all those things and more. The last time I saw Owen, he was at a rehabilitation center on the coast. I still pay for his therapy, but that’s about all I can do for him. Jesus, your body. You have no idea how handsome you are. But your hair and those long nails make me think of you as a woman. You’re this blend of masculine and feminine that just drives me crazy. You’d never want to be transgender, though. You assured me as much.
Wilde has so many memorable turns of phrase. “He who stands most remote from his age is he who mirrors it best.” That’s one of my favorites. My hair might be gone, but I’m faster than I’ve ever been. I’m harder than ever. I think more clearly. I can breathe. I can make love to you. As the world gets more complicated, I have more fun. The more your generation commiserates, the closer I get to the kernel of existence. I do not see the point in failing to enjoy oneself. My friends all think of me as a marvel. Their bones creak. I don’t pity them, but my heart breaks on their behalf. I’ve loved almost everyone I’ve ever known.
It’s such a shame that you can’t seem to find your footing with me. I want this to work itself out effortlessly, but that’s not realistic. It’ll take some tinkering. Honestly, this winter would be so much sweeter with you by my side. We could watch movies, go see music shows, drag shows, and experience all the amazing food they have in Palm Springs. I know you’d love the antique shops and vintage stores, too. When I took off your pants, I noticed you had an old brown belt. They have thousands of those in Palm Springs. I’ll bet you’d like a nice leather belt with some embossed flowers. Next time I go down, I can take a look on your behalf.
The truth is, I deleted my accounts on all those websites after we met. I see this as being my last chance to make something real happen with a younger person. I must have had over 50 boys in the apartment over the years. You are the last one. You are also one of the only ones I haven’t photographed. As much as I want to, it seems like there is a fragility between us that would be corrupted by the shutter sound of the camera. A harmless little snap that sends us careening out of each other’s lives. I wonder if you’d ever want to see my photo collection. There are some things I absolutely cannot show you, but most of them are really cute. Do you remember the blue jockstrap I gave you on our first date? There were a few other boys who wore it first. I washed it, of course. Don’t worry about that. I don’t know if I’d call myself a voyeur. I certainly have a history of being observant and finding some amount of pleasure in it. What I want you to remember is that these labels just do not serve us. The only thing a label does is separate us from our divinity. When you are nothing, that is when you are most loved.
This summer has been such a joy. I’m so grateful for the time we’ve spent together. If you’re able to come down to Palm Springs, we would love nothing more. Jürgen understands. He just wants me to be happy. I may not be as communicative in the next few weeks as we start consolidating things for the move. Sometimes I feel so tired, but that’s neither here nor there. I’ve told you before that I don’t think of myself as old.
