Page 18

Mathéo

I never drink too much. I don’t like the feeling of losing control. But it’s Friday night and today I’m on a mission. Not to have fun, but to forget.

Okay, to suppress. Because, let’s be honest, forget doesn’t work anyway. Micki is everywhere. I’d hoped that after my visit I’d be able to find closure, pack away the memories of him and just move on. But, nope.

Not only did it not work, I failed more than miserably. I drove home even more confused, because for the first time I really saw Micki for who he is—a beautiful young man. And it tingled.

That threw me completely off track. Nothing makes me tingle when I think about men. Nothing at all. I’m not into men!

But I have a thing for Micki. That can’t be right. Can it? I’m 27 years old, I’ve only ever been with women. Until two months ago, I thought Micki was a woman. When I fell for him, I thought he was a woman. And now? I don’t know what to do anymore. I can’t be attracted to Micki, I can’t. I’m not gay. Bi. I don’t know. I’m not into men. Or am I?

***

FUCK! I’m completely wasted, but I’m covering it up to some extent. I do my best to sit upright and not hang over the bar counter crying, even though the second seems much more appealing than the first.

I tried to drink Micki away, but it didn’t work. Dark brown eyes sparkle in my head, wild curls dance, and I can’t forget him. How did he not notice I thought he was a woman?

A woman is on my agenda today, along with doing whatever it is I need to do to forget. I need sex. If I go home with a woman, I’ll definitely get Micki out of my head. Noncommittal sex, meaningless, just like always. Sex is the one thing I never see when I think of Micki. The only thing that isn’t linked to him. I have so many images of him and me in my head, most pure fantasy, others reality from the wedding. Okay, maybe there is a cautious kiss here and there, but I try not to think about it, because it doesn’t make sense, does it? I can’t be with a man, not like this. Right? Shit...

The little blonde has been trying to get me hot all evening. She’s cute, that’s all. Given that cute isn’t even remotely exciting for me, I have no idea why I went home with her.

Okay, yes, I have an idea, but... AHHH! She tries to kiss me, but I don’t want that. I can’t imagine for the life of me, that her lips on mine could feel any good. Dark curls spring up in front of my inner eye, and I feel the pain rising up inside me. The same pain I always feel when I think of Micki.

If Micki were here, it would be soft, brown eyes looking at me challengingly, his lower lip clamped between his teeth. No comparison to the girl who is currently unbuttoning my shirt. I don’t want her, but she won’t stop. Why should she, I haven’t even communicated clearly that this isn’t working for me.

But it worked in the past. Why not now? Why not today? I just want to forget. But I can’t. I can’t . Shit.

She is enthusiastically giving her everything to make me hard somehow, but nothing is really working. It’s not her, I know that, but I’m an asshole.

“Sorry, but you’re obviously not doing it for me.” I point to my flaccid cock. “You need a bit more practice, then you can try again.” It’s mean and a lie, but I have no capacity to be nice. The blonde begs and pleas, it’s pathetic, but dark eyes and wild curls are still swimming in my head. Micki.

Just the thought of letting someone else touch me makes my skin tingle and not in a good way. Everything is blurry and I’m having trouble getting my thoughts straight, but what I’m feeling isn’t rational. My mind is telling me I can’t want Micki. I can’t. I can have the blonde—but I don’t want her. My still-soft dick in her mouth is proof enough.

I stand up and everything’s spinning, but I don’t let myself fall back onto her bed. “I’m sorry, I really am.” Then I storm out of her apartment.

Micki... Fuck. What are you doing to me?

I have no idea how I got home. It’s been a while since I’ve been that drunk. I can still see the disapproving look on my father’s face. That night though, when Nika turned me down and kissed élias, I was pretty upset then. And for the first time in seven years, I realize that it doesn’t sting when I think about Nika and élias. Because I don’t want her anymore. Because I want someone else. Someone I can never have in my life. Right? Right?

Who says I can’t have him? Me, only me. Maybe I’m wrong. So wrong. So damn wrong. Kids and drunks tell the truth, they say, and I want him. Tears well up in my eyes, but that doesn’t change the truth that’s spreading like wildfire through my consciousness and my body. I can feel it.

I haven’t had sex for over five months, but that’s not what I miss. Not at all. I miss the closeness and the trust, the one hundred percent honesty that Micki and I had with each other. What I miss is the safety and being understood, being seen. What I want is to hold and be held... and when I’m ready, to be skin to skin.

The thought of Micki shirtless on my bare chest confuses me, scares me and turns me on, which scares me even more. I’m a nervous wreck. My father will never accept me being with a man, but hasn’t my father already had far too much influence on my life? Does his opinion really matter when it comes to Micki?

My father’s opinion has been important to me my whole life. That’s how I grew up. Make your parents proud, nothing else matters. But it’s my life, doesn’t that count for anything? My wishes? My needs? I have feelings, Papa! And they are so strong! I love, even if I can’t say it yet, but I do.

My phone is in my hand and my fingers are typing nothing but the truth. I won’t take any of it back. “I miss you too.”

Before I can change my mind for whatever reason, I press send. Now it’s said, the truth of truths. What I’ve been feeling for two months and what’s been eating me up inside for the same time. “I don’t know what it means or how we can go from there, but I miss you.”