This is the last post I'm going to make on my overnight with Rob. Thanks for reading along you guys, writing this has been both wonderful and hard for me. Wonderful because I love reliving these moments, and hard because it is never easy to be this honest. In fact, sometimes it hurts. That night I spent with Rob I really opened up and told him things I have never told another person (and no, they aren't getting posted here). He is an amazing friend and lover and listener and talker and I am so blessed to have him in my life. Rob, when you read this I want you to know that I mean everything I have said and will say to you in the future. Thanks for being my friend.
I contemplated calling this post "Aftermath" but that felt too much like the experience from the night before was bad. It was anything but. In fact, when I woke up to Rob jumping out of bed early in the morning, I just smiled as I saw his ass leave the room and curled up into a tight, blissful ball. It didn't matter to me that his cat had howled in the early morning hours or that I was officially skipping a class. At that moment all that mattered to me was staying comfortable for as long as I could while remembering that a sexy man was downstairs, possibly thinking about me lying in his bed. My suspicion was confirmed when I woke up to see this tweet posted. Later that day I posted my own tweet lovingly praising my sexy man.
I'll be honest, part of me wanted to lie in that bed all day so that I would still be there, naked, when he went to bed that night. But the part of me that is logical and reasonable knew that we both had things to do. He needed to work on packing and I needed to go back to my campus and get ready for finals and graduation. So I walked down his stairs knowing fully that I was making a slow decent to my eventual farewell to this man I care so much about.
We didn't have morning sex or good-bye sex or any sex at all that morning. It wasn't that either one of us didn't want to or that we couldn't. We just didn't need to. I know this may sound strange, but I didn't need to have him fuck me that morning (not that I would have said no). There was something spoken and unspoken between us. A knowledge that the night before would not be the last night we'd ever be together. Both of us were getting ready to move to the East Coast, so it wasn't like I would be half the country away. With him in CT and me trying to get a job and apartment in Boston, we will be practically the same distance from each other as we previously were. A distance I'm sure either one of us would be willing to travel, though I'm not going to put words in his mouth.
So what did we do? We went to a cute diner for breakfast where I could hardly eat because (as I found out the next day) I was relapsing into an illness I had thought I'd thrown. Sadly I'd be stuck with that damn viral infection for weeks to come. Still, even though I probably could have skipped breakfast and saved Rob some money, I would not have missed talking to him. We talked about a variety of things once again, but this time I also asked him questions.
These were questions I've been thinking about for a while. I know that he has a family and is still able to have plenty of hot sex on the side. I want that for myself. I want in my future to be a loving husband and (hopefully) father, but also still be able to fuck around and do what men do naturally. So I questioned how he lives his life, the things he does with others. While I can't yet tell if he helped me toward my goal, he did give me a lot to think about.
If you couldn't tell, I've been putting off talking about the moment I left. I don't want to remember walking out his door and turning at my car to see him watching after me. I don't want to see in my mind him standing in that doorway, the beautiful sunny day, the blossoms all over the trees, the smell of life everywhere. I don't want to remember the image, that perfect, beautiful image, because it feels too much like the scene in a movie when someone leaves for good. I don't want to leave Rob for good. I want to always be a part of his life, and for him to be a part of mine.
It isn't easy for me to be this honest, but I feel like I need to be. The drive back to campus was somewhat hard. I wanted to call him and hear his voice again. Or maybe to just turn around and surprise him. But I knew that both of those things could not happen. Well, I could have called him. I wish I had called him. I wish I had done more than just text him when I arrived safely on campus. Because that day was the day Spencer treated him pretty badly. I know the two have reconciled, and frankly I don't hold any grudge against Spencer, I think he's great and I'm glad he made Rob happy for as long as he did. But when I read on Rob's blog what had happened, my first response was that I should have called. Then I could have been an ear to talk to or a shoulder to cry on, if that was needed. But I didn't call, and I couldn't have known. I don't blame myself. I just wish I'd had the courage to call and not worry about if I was bothering him.
If there is one thing I have learned from the way Rob treats me and cares for me, it is that no one is ever going to be so bothered by me that they will stop talking to me. No one is ever going to turn their back on me because of who I am. No one is ever going to forget me and move on. I believe that now. But I still have my doubt, my annoying background voice. The evil man in my head telling me that if I call Rob he will just ignore me, or hate me, or not even notice I called at all. None of that is true, Rob is a great man and such a nice guy, and we're both such great friends. So why haven't I ever called him?
Falling in love with Rob has been one of the best things to happen to me in the past year. But it has also brought back up all these little insecurities I thought I'd killed in myself years ago. Like, what if I say something wrong? Or, what if I miss something he said to me online? Or worse, what if I start to become jealous? I'm not jealous by nature, but I'm around enough jealous people to fear it in my self. These are all thoughts that stop me from dialing his number. But they are also old issues, more like the guest that won't leave than the one throwing up on your $1000 couch. So while I hate these dumb insecurities, I would gladly have them forever if it meant Rob was in my life. And maybe someday I'll get the courage to just pick up the damn phone and call him.