GV8 called.

Here, when I thought I was going to be able to move on, abandoned for the rock star lifestyle he loves so well.

He called me while they were filming a porn at the club, apparently featuring dripping wet, latex-covered women. Porn shoot the day prior. He directed me to the site of some porn star(?) so I could see the results of an earlier photo shoot.

Over the course of the conversation, he told me he missed me, that he loved me, that it felt strange that I, who had been at the beginning of this whole adult club thing with him, would not be there opening night. That my text message to him the day the club opened, wishing him success, added to his already full head of thoughts of me.

That it felt wrong that I wasn't there.

He asked what I had been up to, told me he was proud of how much I had grown in the last few months, how together my life was, that every time he talked to me, he was made even more proud of what I was doing.

I did not tell him I missed him.
I did not tell him I loved him.

He told me he wanted to see me. I asked when would be good for him.

He said to pick a day anytime after the 19th, and he'd be there. That he was going to accommodate my schedule. I'm always the one doing the accommodating, and I mentioned this to him. He said it was only fair, for all the times I've rearranged everything to be with him.

So I told him next Saturday. I wanted to go to the Los Angeles Times Festival of Books. He could join me, if he liked. He agreed.

I mentioned that I was going clubbing afterwards. He said he would not join me because he would likely run into people he knows, which would make things awkward... as he picks up ass like you would not believe. Reminding me that this is the man who engineered a foursome with three chicks that happened to be walking by his apartment simply by using three bottles of beer.

Brought me back to reality.

I asked him what we were doing. He said that we were getting to know each other again.

He asked if I had been moving forward. Forward? Forward, he said, moving past him, into my future.

No.

Then, yes.

I assumed that I'd never hear from him again, after he didn't respond to my text message. That things were over, he had fully submerged himself in being his wild, alpha male self.

That I had been moving forward. Not dating, but getting it into my head that he was gone. Trying to move past it so I would stop having this plague of dreams of him and the club that I've been experiencing so often of late. That my body would finally unwind, I'd stop grinding my teeth so hard whether awake or asleep. My jaw, my neck, I may look calm, but touch either when I am under stress and you will know.

He said if I needed to think about it, to take some time. But I could call during the week, if I wanted. Radio silence over.

I said I didn't know. That I had to think. I'd call him later in the week to confirm our date.





I love him, though I did not tell him that. I miss him, though I would not directly say those words to him.

My ethics when it comes to relationships... honesty and communication. Not stringing someone along. Making decisions.

I hate lingering, I hate indecisiveness.

I hate knowing that this will never work, that I've lost too much faith in him and I don't know how he'd ever build it back. And I could never be okay with his roaming ways. He's already given me one STD, I don't need any more.

But this... I don't have to play by rules anymore. I don't have to make a decision, I don't have to include him in my life, nor sleep with him again. I need to (wo)man up and stop folding to what he wants. He knows what I want. He's trying to take small steps to give it to me, without fully submitting and giving up that which he will not deny himself: the leeway to surrender to lust with any hot thing that walks by.

By going out with him, I'm not committing to anything.

But I am setting myself up for more heartbreak. I can't keep emotionally distant from him like I can from other men, so easy.

Which means I need to get my final paper written before this goes down in flames. I am not going to go through what I did last semester, and what I did during midterms. This is not going to get fucked up again, to put it bluntly.

I owe him nothing, I owe myself everything.

I have to maintain.