QColumn: A Gay In The Life: Kissing A Fool
Kissing a Fool
By Steve Prince
The mid-morning sun hopped along the tops of the cars cruising down Beverly Boulevard, its rays glinting from one metallic flash to the next. I looked at my watch. Five after 11a.m. He’s late.
I looked down the boardwalk taking in the group of shoppers walking towards La Brea. Through the crowd a tall chestnut head bobbed in response to a youthful gait. Effortlessly, the crowd parted and there sauntered Kelly, walking toward me smiling, his small Chihuahua Teddy sniffing at the sidewalk, reluctantly dragged along.
“Whaddya say, cool kid?” Kelly asked beaming. He hugged and pecked me on the lips. “I hope you weren’t waiting long,” he added. A flourish of wind from a passing car swept his light mahogany hair across his forehead.
“Nah,” I replied with a brush of my hand, “I just walked up about two minutes ago.”
I bent down to pet Kelly’s dog. I outstretched the back of my palm. “So this is the famous Teddy,” I said. The dog quivered and looked like he was about to shit or bite my hand off; he was not happy to see me. A soft growl shook the animal and I drew my hand away, cautious not to seem to like a jerk. Weird, dogs usually love me.
Kelly swooped Teddy up. “Sorry,” he apologized, “he doesn’t really like other people very much. He’s a loner, this one.” He began kissing the dog’s face, “Teddy only loves his Daddy.”
The hostess came to seat us. We settled ourselves in an awkward silence, while listening to the couple next to our table bicker quietly.
This is the first time I had seen Kelly since we had kissed at the George Michael concert. It had been only two weeks before, but it seemed longer. About two days after the concert I called Kelly just to talk and see what he had planned this week. He didn’t answer so I left a message. He never called me back, instead he texted me three days before our meeting today.
Sorry I missed your call, he texted, wanna hang out handsome?
So here we were. Meeting for brunch.
“So I’m applying to law school,” Kelly said.
“Oh really?” I asked urging him on, trying to seem interested.
We chit-chatted for about ten minutes, catching up on one another’s on goings. It wasn’t until the restaurant sound system began playing George Michael’s Faith, that we both paused and smirked at one another. Tentatively, I began.
“That was a good concert,” I said, “so much fuckin’ fun.”
“Yeah, I totally had a ball,” Kelly said taking in a mouthful of water, “at least what I can remember. I was so trashed, man.” His eyes seemed to dart and watch the passing cars.
God dammit. This guy is so hard to figure out. Should flirting be this difficult? I couldn’t really get a handle on what Kelly wanted from me, if anything at all. Even directly after the concert Kelly seemed changed somehow. Not that I wanted to be all lovey-dovey, but as we walked out to the car he barely acknowledged me. He kept talking to Isabella most of the time, while swaggering back and forth. I didn’t think that that he had gotten that drunk. We both had equal amounts of food and liquor that night, and I only had a slight buzz
I couldn’t help but think of what Isabella had earlier that night, “Sometimes guys often act drunk even when they’re not just so they can make an excuse to act a certain way around someone.”
At the time, I didn’t get fully what she meant; yet as I sat in silence at our table, I think I got it. It’s not that Kelly couldn’t remember our kiss from the concert; it seemed that he didn’t want to remember. Apparently, being intoxicated excuses everything. I didn’t know if I was holding onto false hope, but a part of me didn’t believe that. Kelly kissed me just as much as I kissed him. In fact, he’s the one who pulled me into him.
I looked at Kelly. He had just told me he was too drunk to remember anything that happened between us. So, as is my non-confrontational way, I changed the subject.
“How long have you had, Teddy?” I asked, absent-mindedly. Honestly I didn’t give a rat’s ass about this skinny little mutt that glared at me mutinously. It looked like an oversized, brown rat and I hated it.
Kelly’s face lit up at the mention of his dog. “Some neighbor lady dropped him off at my house, and I took him without a moment’s notice,” he said raising the dog to his face. He began baby talking to Teddy, “Didn’t I? You found me and I took care of you. Yes I did, you pretty boy.”
Suddenly, I wasn’t hungry.
“So you’ve always been a dog person?” I asked.
“Nope,” Kelly said assuredly, “not until this guy.”
He leaned forward, his tone serious. Kelly seemed to blink more intensely.
“You know,” he said pointing to Teddy, “This dog saved me.”
He took a sip or water seriously.
“Before,” he continued, ” I was such a loner, and my ex-boyfriend had fucked me over so much. But this guy—he just likes me for me. I’m not lying when I say, this dog taught me how to love. Seriously, I don’t think I could be open to that type of relationship now if it wasn’t for him.”
I interrupted his monologue to try and make sense of what Kelly wanted.
“So what do you want in a relationship,” I asked.
Kelly’s mouth pursed and tilted to one side as he thought. After thirty seconds he replied, “I just…I just want to be with someone who I don’t feel like I have to put on airs for. Someone who’s real grounded; however, at the same time I don’t need anyone. I love being on my own and be able to do my own thing. I hated feeling tied down. You know,” he paused, “sometimes I’m not sure of what I want.”
But I had gotten what I wanted—an answer. Kelly and I wanted two different things. Suddenly, I wasn’t mad at Teddy anymore—I was mad at me.
HOW DO I LET MYSELF FALL FOR SUCH UNAVAILABLE GUYS? It’s like a black hole that I get sucked into. It’s like a sickness and I want it cured. I don’t remember what the rest of our dinner was like; my own thoughts seemed to cloud reality into a mush of confusion.
I thought back to my past encounters with Kelly; our first meeting, the museum, the concert. I wasn’t wrong in thinking that he was interested it me. In fact, I know he was. I just don’t think he was interested enough. And what really got me, what really pissed me off, was that instead of pursuing things earlier so I could learn what Kelly wanted, I fantasized what being with Kelly would be like. I denied any initial attractions I had in order to hope the liking of him would go away. I was too scared to know where he stood.
As I drove home from our brunch, I felt uncomfortable with myself and uneasy. It felt as if I couldn’t trust my own instincts. And I felt unloved. Three hours later, I found myself being pounded by some guy I had just met an hour before online. I don’t remember his name. He was forgettable. The sex was forgettable. But mostly I felt forgettable. As he fucked me I begged him to pound me harder and harder, hoping that with each thrust he could drive my thoughts of Kelly away. Purge them from my heart.
The last time I heard from Kelly it was via text—of course. I received the text two months after our brunch. I was walking down Melrose Avenue, in the middle of shopping spree. I had found that since Kelly and I went our separate ways, I shopped more and more. Yes, I know how to avoid feelings like nobody’s business. This is what he texted:
I heard George Michael on the radio and thought of you cutie. How are you?
I didn’t respond. I was done. It wasn’t that I had given my all to that relationship; in fact, I had given very little. It was, I thought, a new romance so I had not given much at all. The point was that I had given something only to have it not denied, but completely neglected. If Kelly was not that into me, then I wish he would’ve been man enough to say it. I’m not his dog Teddy; I don’t like being lead on a leash.
I got into my car and tossed my shopping bags in the back seat. I started the car and got out my iPod. I purposefully turned the click wheel to George Michael. I had not listened to that song since the concert. As I backed out of my parking spot and began to join the lurching traffic on Melrose, the music began to play…
You are far,
When I could have been your star,
You listened to people,
Who scared you to death, and from my heart…
As the song played out so did my last feelings regretful feelings for Kelly. I let him go. Sometimes, I wonder if the human heart can only hold so much, hence we have to let someone go in order to make room for someone else.
Do I miss Kelly? No.
Do I ever think about our kiss and our dance? Yeah, I do. But only because I’m not letting that moment be taken away from me. Happiness is happiness and I’ll take it where I can get it.
Do I still feel a little dumb for being lead on so much? A little. Honestly, I think George sums it up better than I…
You are far
When I could have been your star,
You listened to people,
Who scared you to death and from my heart,
Strange that I was wrong enough,
To think you’d love me too.
I guess you were kissing a fool,
You must have been kissing…a fool.
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Years after moving from Oklahoma, Steve Prince is still acclimating to the gay scene in Los Angeles—he’s a slow learner. By trial and error and a lot of sex, his mission is to make the uncomfortable, comfortable. Also it should be known that he is gayer than butt sex.
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Previously, on A Gay In The Life:
The Birds and The Birds
Lyin’, & Twinks, & Bears—Oh My!
Going Public
Christmas in July
Luck Be A Lady Tonight
I Left My Heart In Oklahoma
As Luck Would Have It
Shock & Awe
Blame It On Britney
The Unending Journey
Makin’ Copies
Bullets and Bracelets… and Lube
To Tell The Truth…
Stars Aren’t Blind
The Dark Knight
Come As You Are
A Date?
A Happy Ending
Better Than Nothing
A Man With A Slow Hand
Taking The Long Way
Everybody Knows
Wake Me Up, Before Ya Go-Go
Definition
The Best
The Upper Hand
Hit Me With Your Best Shot
2000-Date
Dick The Halls
The Queer Dear
A Night At The Museum
A Conversation
I’m Just A Girl Who Can’t Say No
Change The Way You Feel
