Brad is the sweetest man. Physically he is not at all the type I go for - I have the commercialised view of beauty which means a full head of hair, tallish, athletic build. He doesn't tick the boxes (except his package which is in a league of its own, hence "the Range Rover").
As I get to know him a little more, I am captivated by his heart of gold. He is an artist but he is nothing like the pretentious London hipsters who criticise everyone and everything. The way he sees beauty in the things he likes is unique and inspiring. I think he also sees a lot in me that I don't.
What I see is that when he smiles his eyes pull you in and there is no escape. Like the ocean, so deep, powerful and yet so very gentle.
Sorry this is all very cliched I know. I am an engineer. I can't piss poetry on demand. But every word is true.
We become intimate very quickly in our texts. I am counting the number of days before I can ask about the next stay-over, to avoid sounding too desperate. I manage to see him every other day but he would always have something on in the evening, and he would always ask me to forgive him. Five days after our night together he has to bail again.
> Don't feel bad.
> I feel bad for reasons we should discuss face to face. I am twisted in a knot thinking about you.
I know I have jumped into something I cannot easily get out of. But I didn't realise Brad is also stuck. It's not supposed to happen like this. I am only meant to be a friend with benefits. Craig is the reason we even come to know each other. That night, we are in our own beds but neither of us get to sleep much.
I keep telling myself that it's just a phase. It's just a phase. We finally meet up again at his work place, in a little office with three desks. It's relatively quiet on a Sunday. Brad says he doesn't trust his or my feelings at the moment, although he doesn't understand why over the years he still thinks about me. The reality is our lives are in different places in the world. So there is no point in trying or even thinking. I know that. And we talk some more.
I feel a lot better after that. At least the outcome is not "let's not see or talk to each other again". He walks me to the bus stop in the rain. We hold each other's eyes for the last time before the bus pulls away and crawls into the city lights.
I should probably mention our fuck in the office. Fighting against our feelings is futile. There are no blinds on the windows so I have to believe nobody is watching. The room is also lacking in furniture. I straddle him on the office chair which I think would break if I put my whole weight on it. That or Brad's legs. We go bareback (which is very irresponsible and stupid, I know) because we don't have anything. I am surprised that it works and it wasn't painful. When I come he takes it in his mouth but even after that I don't want him to pull out. So he carries on, until he gets close. I honestly enjoy every second when we are connected and I will try my hardest to never forget it.