QColumn: A Gay In The Life: Almost There

Editor’s Note: Next week is the LAST INSTALLMENT OF AGITL! And while we’re sad to see Steve go, read about why he’s leaving! Also, be sure to read last week’s column before reading this week’s continuation.
Almost There
By Steve Prince
“What?”
“I cheated on you,” I said, gulping again.
For a split second Peter’s face looked like he was going to hit me, but then his eyes seemed to slide out of focus.
I sat up.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” I blabbered, “It was a dumb thing. I was really drunk—not that that is an excuse—because that’s not. It’s totally not. If I was in my right mind I would have pulled myself together.”
Peter sat up in the bed and looked out into the dark.
Like an idiot I kept blabbering. I do that when someone is just sitting there. The silence is worse then being yelled at—at least then I would know what he was thinking.
“I don’t know why I did it,” I stammered. “Wait, yes I do. I was upset and I felt alone, so instead of talking to you I should have just reached out to you, but I was mad at you. And oddly I don’t even remember why I was mad at you in the first place, because well…I mean look at your face. How can I be mad at that face? But you can be mad at my face…I mean, mad at me. It’s okay. I can take it. Be mad if you need to be.”
Peter sighed. My mouth was becoming dry from talking too much. So of course I continued talking, because that makes sense. Did I mention how uncomfortable I am with the whole silence thing?
“I don’t know why I’m really bringing this up now,” I said, the words sputtering from my mouth, “well, yeah I do.” I sighed. I finally was going to say what I had wanted to say for five months.

“I’m not a cheater,” I began, “I’m not. But suddenly I found myself making this huge, gigantic mistake. And not one ounce of me wanted to fuck up like that, not one ounce. Not one moment of that took away from the feelings I had—that I do have—for you. In fact, if I didn’t care for you so much, maybe I wouldn’t have done it. I mean—I—what I’m trying to say is, I’m not that person. That’s not who I am. I want to be honest with you, no matter how hard that is so that’s why I’m doing this. And because that’s what I want from you—if this is going to work—honesty.” I looked at Peter.
He was looking at me now calmly. Emotion began to well up from my chest and my voice cracked, “I love you. And not being with you was horrible. I’m not going to say that ‘I can’t live without you’ because that’s not the type of person I am. After you sent me that letter, I was crushed…but I began to move on. I eventually would have been all right—I know I would have. But here’s the deal—I know I can live without you and be fine, but to live with you, well, that’s more than fine. That’s…amazing. And I want amazing.”
I smiled feebly.
“And I’m sorry I cheated like a dumbfuck,” I added. As if he didn’t know.
Again, silence. I sat there with my insides churning. My adrenaline rush had obliterated any remnants of beer from Renee’s party. I felt sober, awake, and on needles waiting for Peter’s response.
He looked at me and licked his lips, in thought. He took a breath and said, “I got engaged to a woman.”
I cocked my head in confusion.
Peter looked at me and smiled. “I got engaged to a woman.” He ran his hands through his hair. “Really,” he said as if finally accepting the gravity of his decision, “I got engaged to a woman.” He looked up at me and smiled, “I mean, can’t we just call it even?”
I don’t know who started laughing first, Peter or me. In fact, it was almost simultaneous. But oh my God did we laughed and laugh and laugh.
I think it was a release, for both of us. For so long now—really since the beginning of our relationship—Peter and I had been trying to be someone that wasn’t going to disappoint the other. But when you do that you completely set yourself up to fail. Who doesn’t disappoint someone they are dating? Realistically—when you think about it—it’s not if, it’s when the ball drops. I guess instead of waiting to see if that person disappoints you, it’s better to hope that they will love you in spite of the disappointments.
In other words, I guess we have a choice—Peter and I both do. We could let our own
fucked-up-ness get in the way and be mad at one another for it, or we could see it for what it is rather than what it shouldn’t be.
Soon our laughter turned into making out, which soon began to lead to sex. I reached for Peter’s erection.
“Not now,” he said.
“Oh,” I said, my face falling. Peter had said he wanted me to make love to him, and I have to admit, I wanted to badly. “Okay, well—”
“No,” Peter shook his head, “I mean not here. I don’t want to lose my virginity here” he smiled and batted his eyes. I smiled back. It was nice to see him act, well, gay. It was a side of Peter I had never seen before. A side he never seemed comfortable showing until now. Maybe he was changed.
He sat up and looked for his shirt. “We’re in the guest house of your first girlfriend and a girl I hooked up with. That’s weird, bro.” Suddenly Peter’s face lit up. “Come on. Let’s go.”
“Where?” I asked.
He kissed me, and I wanted to draw him in but his lips retreated.
“Nuh-nuh-nuh,” Peter smiled. One of his eyebrows rose ominously. “Come on.”
Five minutes later, we quietly walked down Renee’s gravel driveway to Peter’s truck. From the looks of it the house party had died down; all the windows were dark. Well, it was almost three in the morning.
I got into Peter’s truck and shut the door as quietly as I could. “Where are we going?”
“Just wait.” Peter said smiling.
The gravel sputtered away from the truck tires as Peter drove into the night. We both rolled down our windows. Dew had settled itself on the night air creating an odd mixture of warm and cool. I always forget how much I love driving in the country at night. There’s nothing like it.
As we drove along, I looked at Peter. He was smiling.
“What are you smiling at?” I asked.
“I’m just…” Peter said, “happy.” He grabbed my hand. We drove in silence for several minutes before he spoke.
“Steve,” his voice was different. He sounded troubled. I turned my eyes from the road to look at him. His eyes were misted.
“I feel like I should say sorry for,” he paused, “the letter. I—uh—my Mom wrote most of that honestly, but still…I let her do it. I think you should know that…I…Fuck this is hard, I—”
Peter’s hand began to loosen on mine, but I grabbed it and squeezed.
“Hey,” I said sternly, “I thought you said we were even.” I glared at him. “We’re starting over, right?”
Peter nodded his head and squeezed my hand.
The truth was I could be mad at him, but I didn’t want to. What would being mad get me? Right now, I felt like it would get me alone. I didn’t want that. Ah the irony. When Peter and I were together I would always get upset because we didn’t communicate enough. But now—tonight—I didn’t want to talk; I just wanted to be, with him. And enjoy him. For once, couldn’t I worry about the rest tomorrow?
However, as soon as I thought that something sprang to mind. “Peter, where’s Amy?” I asked.
Peter put his other hand on the steering wheel. “Well,” he cleared his throat, “she left early. She was tired. She said I could stay at the party so she got a ride with Claire and Jimmy.”
“Oh,” I said. Why did I ask a question? The problem with questions is that they just lead to other questions, which now were churning in my head.
“Peter,” I began.
Peter put his hand back on mine. “Can we just drive Steve? Enjoy the ride?” He looked at me pleadingly. Apparently he was tired of talking too. I nodded.
Peter pulled the truck down a narrow dirt road. We were really out in the country now. The road snaked through pastures as bugs dodged in front of the truck lights, some skimming past while others met their quick end. The chirping of crickets was so loud I could hear it over the engine. It was comforting.
“Here we go,” Peter said driving over a cattle guard. He got out and unlocked a gate. We drove thru; he got out and shut the gate behind the truck. He drove the truck up the hill. The road, if you could call it that, was so rough that we both bobbed up and down in the truck seats. We drove about another mile. He stopped the truck on the top of a small hill.
“Come on,” he said.
He led me out to the back of the truck and put the truck bed down. In the back of the bed was large toolbox. Peter climbed up, opened the box, and pulled out two sleeping bags, several blankets, and several pillows.
“What are you doing?” I asked surprised. “How did you have all this?”
“Don’t ask,” Peter said with a sheepish smile. I had the feeling these sleeping bags were meant for Amy.
“Peter,” I said in surprise.
“Hush,” he said as I spread the bags out, fluffed the pillows. He sat down and smiled. “Can’t I just spend a night under the stars with my boyfriend?”
How do you say no to that? I crawled up in the bed. It was surreal. When I was in high school, I remember other friends talking about sneaking out in truck beds with their girlfriends. I always wanted to do that with, well, Peter. Now I finally was.
He leaned over and kissed me. The breeze stroked my cheek as Peter’s hand held my other.
What was happening? Were we doing this…again? Thoughts, doubts, and fear began to flicker in my mind, creating anxious butterflies in my stomach.
I leaned in kissed Peter harder. No. No thinking this time. No second-guessing every decision. And no fear. For once I am going to go with my heart and fuck the rest.
As the breeze blew, and the crickets chirped, I made love to Peter. Yes it had taken a long time to get there, but it was worth the wait. As the beginning shafts of light began breaking through the horizon, we laid there, quietly cuddling. Peter kissed my chest and laid his head down. Within minutes his soft snores began to lull me to sleep. I started to think but I sighed instead. Nope. No thinking about tomorrow. Just feeling right now.
And right now, I felt just fine.
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A California boy with a Southern heart, Steve Prince finds himself in so many sexual positions it can make your head spin. Thankfully for us he’s willing to share it all…no matter how sordid it gets. Quick to admit when he fucks up, Steve still laughs it all off, and hopes you will too. Also, it should also be noted he is gayer than glitter.
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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
Kissing A Fool
Leo The Lamb
The Elephant In The Room
Zuckerman’s Famous Pig
A Birthday Surprise
The Sleepover-er
SP Phone Home
Out of the Frying Pan and into the Closet
What If…
Just Beat It
Intimate Portrait
Intimate Portrait (Part Deux)
Intimate Portrait (Part Trois)
State of Mind
The Age of Disbelief
A Man For All Seasons
Summer Lovin’
A-Men
The Urge
Gettin’ It Done
Here You Cum Again
Eye Of The Beholder
The Present
A Minute’s Pause
Brotherly Love
Ladies Who Lunch
Here Cums The Rain Again
Dinner For Two
Blow by Blow
Commando
Cum As You Are?
Aftershock!
Caught in the Act
The Great Compromise
The Tipping Point
Cross Country
In Stereo
Get Smart
Blind Faith
The Dirty Mexican
A Few Good Men
Peter’s End
Getting Stuffed
The Good Boy
Cracking Up
The Agreement
Fuck Road
A New Resolve
Pre-cumming
Send My Regrets
On A Jet Plane
For The Love of God
Livin’ On A Prayer
It’s My Party
Move On
The Stripper
High-Ho The Glamorous Life
The Flesh Is Willing, But…
The Oldest Profession
Letters
The Rubdown
The Return of the Stripper
The Strip Tease
Tennis Doubles
The Brother’s Dick
The Marlboro Man
A Reunion of Sorts