Let’s Be Frank: The Diary of a Divorced Gay Dad
His lips were unexpectedly soft for such a scrappy kind of guy. I was completely lost in thought as we passionately made out, him propped up on my kitchen counter sitting in front of me. After days of texting and chatting on the phone, here he was – his legs wrapped around me, and my arms around him. He was strikingly more handsome than his Instagram portrayed, and I kept trying to place which actor he reminded me of. His eyes were like blue gems that sparkled against his darker skin, and they looked at me with something I hadn’t recognized in years – lust. He wanted me just as much as I wanted him, and that was a remarkably unfamiliar feeling. He knew I was recently divorced with a child, and that he was younger than me by 12 years, but it didn’t matter. What he didn’t know is that he was my first encounter with a man post divorce, and I was more nervous than an alley cat in China.
So … of course we met on Grindr. He messaged me first, and that made everything seem so much sweeter. Within days, we “couldn’t wait to see each other,” and did so until I had the house to myself. When the doorbell rang, my stomach dropped and shattered on the ground. I already had vetted him through Facetime, and my trusty butcher knife was close by, so it wasn’t my safety I was concerned with. This was the first time in my life that I had a guy over to my house. What if I opened the door and he didn’t like me? What if I opened the door and he was catfishing me? What if I opened the door and I was forced to use that goddamned butcher knife? I was stalling in my kitchen doing shots of Tito’s until he texted me: “here!” At that point, I knew I had to go acknowledge his unbelievably adorable presence. Once he was inside, there was maybe three minutes of awkwardness, a half-assed house tour, and then he was up on that kitchen counter making me feel like a man again. My emotions ranged from anxious to extremely turned on, which made for an unforgettable evening. We broke all of my self-imposed rules and were in my bedroom, affectionately doing it before the night was over. Until my dying day, I will remember every intimate minute of it.
The next morning, I awoke with a gorgeous guy in my embrace and no regrets. I knew he had to leave for work, so at some point we would be parting. We kissed a lot, and I actually didn’t mind his putrid morning breath. He lingered by the door, and I continued down the rabbit hole into his magical eyes. As I watched him drive away, I had no idea if I would ever see him again, and I felt a very small moment of sadness. But several hours later, I received a text: “hey, what are you doing tonight?” and I knew Round Two would be imminent. I was in the midst of an exciting lusty fling that I hadn’t experienced in years, and it made me feel like Katy Perry’s “Teenage Dream” song. I got butterflies in my stomach and texted my best friend something like “OMG, I totally found the guy of my dreams last night.” She humored me back with “Really? Oh babe, that’s amazing – glad you had a good time!” I replied “Oh, he was more than a good time – I think we will have lasting power.” Again, she supported me with “Wow, that’s great! I hope the best for you of course. Have fun with him.” Which, in retrospect, was perfect advice. Just have fun, Frank. Stop worrying about the future – you did that for almost 17 years. Give yourself a goddamned break.
So I did exactly that. I kept him separate from my family life with my son, and we stayed together about 2 ½ months before we both reached the inevitable conclusion that no, we don’t have lasting power. It wasn’t about the age difference, or my child, or my baggage. It was merely about our compatibility, or lack thereof. I am greatly appreciative of him, who I now gleefully refer to as “The Boy from Berlin.” He did so much more for me than I probably did for him, and for that I’m eternally grateful. He caused me to remember so many things about myself that I had forgotten. He rekindled my love interest in myself, which as we all know is the most important love to have. He gave me a fresh sense of value, and unwittingly became a shaman into my new single life. We don’t speak anymore, which is probably for the best, but I occasionally check up on him just to make sure he’s doing great. He isn’t perfect, or any of the things I thought he was in the beginning, but he was exactly what I needed to get my groove the fu*k back. And I did.
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