I’ve been a timid man my whole life. I can recall my preschool when I was the shiest child in the class. It has always been challenging for me to make friends and while that wasn’t always the biggest thing ever, I really believe that this wasn’t half bad because it made me better friends with those few folks I did become friends with. When it was time for me to begin dating, things weren’t doing amazing. And growing up as a gay child in 90s Detroit, that was not great either. You might say that the universe conspired against me when it comes to getting dates and discovering that someone.
And with school and with a fresh job and new responsibilities, my love life has been on a backburner in the past ten years or so. No, really. I didn’t have a single relationship that survived longer when compared to a month in the last ten years. That is, until this last year once I met Kyle. Now, for some other folks, a sentence such as the prior one would be nothing special. But for someone like me, “only meeting” someone isn’t something that occurs more than once in a lifetime.
I was not certain what to think of Kyle at first. He was hot (still is), of that there was no doubt. But he was one of those guys that were never overly serious and that never took anything seriously. This really is something which you can be alright with when you’re 21, 22, but as a guy in his early 30s, I wasn’t looking for something like that. And then, just when I thought that he was a total waste of time, I understood this was his alternative. He was not only “like that”. He enjoyed being free and being spontaneous, but not in that annoying way where he would depend on everyone around him only to get by.
He was a great professional and a successful individual, dependable to a fault, but always a bit absent minded and consistently with that sprinkle of surprising to him.
We barely kissed twice before he asked me to go to France with him. He had a job to do there and he wanted me to go there with him. We only spoke for about 3 hours all in all before that. I ‘d not seen him naked. We hardly kissed. And he was inviting me to go to Europe with him. I made the decision to be impulsive for once in my entire life and I went with him. (In the back of my head thinking that I can always fly back if this turns out to suck.)
He did his thing, his small gigabyte or whatever (he’s a photographer) and that was that. In one day. We’d an entire two-week holiday in the south of France just for one day of his work. I adored it. I felt so glamorous. And we shot things really slowly, we did not race anywhere. For instance, this photo which you can see of Kyle all nude in front of a huge cruiser; this was the very first time I saw him naked. We saw the folks from the cruiser and we overheard them discussing and he wanted to go all the way with them so he got naked as they were checking out this enormous statue that was behind me as I was taking the photograph. He knew they needed to see him and he needed to screw with them. I was additionally nude as I was taking his picture.
Later that day, we laughed about how we first saw each other naked in that way. We made love later that day. It was unbelievable. We’re still together and we still laugh like crazy when we see this photo.