Let Me Kiss You Now and I’ll Fade Away
Reuben can be the best pal at times. He grew up the youngest in a family of 11 kids. When we became roommates, he told me his biggest gift to me would be to show me what it’s like to have siblings. Let me tell you this: having siblings is not all it’s cracked up to be. Reuben barges in when I’m trying to write. He bangs on my doors when Cassandra is having a private moment with herself. He has no respect for privacy. Some nights he staggers into my room, drunk off his ass, and slurs why do you ignore me.
When Reuben’s last boyfriend was getting ready to move to New York, and they were about to break up (on issues still unresolved to this day: some guys will never forgive you if you don’t pick them up at the airport – or did Reuben not pick him up at the airport because he really didn’t love him that much – Who knows.) Well, when they were on the verge of breaking up Reuben insisted on taking me out for a day to Harbin Hot Springs.
It was his treat. He talked me into it – he even drove up there. Reuben, as the youngest child in a family of 11 kids, has a hard time being alone. He dreaded his boyfriend moving to New York. All that time he will have to fill up. I played for him New York to California by Matt Kearny. He asked me to repeat the song the entire drive up. I love that song by Matt and I love how Reuben appreciates it too.
When we got there we smoked weed before getting out of the car. Harbin is a very hippy pad but I’m not used to being around naked people. Especially naked girls. I’ve seen plenty of naked guys but naked girls are different. It really is like how it appears in movies and magazines. Just a puff of hair between the legs.
When we slipped into the quiet pool there was this old hippie guy with long hair in a ponytail twirling this young serene lady. There were so many people there I couldn’t back up to the edge of the pool and just sit. It was intense. Especially when you’re stoned.
So much bush!
I started giggling. Reuben didn’t look horrified. He just looked away like he didn’t know me.
I decided the best way to sober me up and relax in this serene utterly naked moment would be to get a massage.
When I was done with the massage, an hour and a half later, I ran into Reuben as I was walking up the hill. He looked bored and ready to leave. He asked me where I went. I told him. He said,
I took you up here to spend time with you.
But we just kept missing each other.
Lately, that sentiment seems to steep in my mind.
We keep missing each other.
Remember Davey, the guy from my chat conversations? He came over a while back. I always knew he would. Just like I knew we would have a great time. After I fucked him, he asked to be my boyfriend. I guess I really am that good in bed.
He was quite sweet.
When he was leaving, right as I was opening my bedroom door to escort him out, he got on his knees and took my cock into his mouth. The same cock that had already came from fucking him. He pushed me back onto the bed and he milked a load from me.
The next day he texted, I swallowed every drop like a good little girl, didn’t I?
And then he asked me, do you like me or just think of me as a sex toy?
We keep missing each other, don’t we? Not just me and Reuben at Harbin Hot Springs but all of us.
Do any of us really get what we want, when we really want it?
What is this thing between cd’s/tv/ts/tg and the guys who chase us?
Davey accuses me of being addicted to sex with straight boys because it’s so easy.
It’s true. Sometimes when one of Cassandra’s regulars schedules a date with me and then cancels (after I get all dolled up) I go on Craigs List right away. I need to cum. And it can’t wait.
Truthfully, the right thing to do at that moment would be to text Silver Fox. Considering how much money he’s given me, consistently, week after week – months, years now – if I’m giving out a freebie it should go to him.
But I don’t.
Instead I just invite over the hot 20 somethings. It’s the best part of being a pretty sexy CD. If you only knew how many hot straight guys secretly love pleasing a Tgirl. It’s almost unfair.
Did I tell you Silver Fox has a Girlfriend? But they seem to miss each other too. She’s 20 years too young for him. She likes him for the security. He likes her for the companionship. She wants sex from him. He says he’s fine if he never has sex with a biological woman again.
I asked Davey didn’t you say you’re really attracted to women? Come on, let’s both go for what we really want.
I’ll try dating a gay man. You marry a nice girl and start a family.
Davey said, no girls will want me now.
I’m damaged goods.
Why, I ask?
He says, I let whores fuck me up the ass.
It’s true. We keep missing each other. Between what we want and what we need. Between what we need and what’s societally acceptable. Does anyone ever find what they’re looking for?
The tranny chasers – the ones, like me – the ones (unlike Davey), who keep the sex separate from the emotions – I don’t think they’ll be able to stop. Not even after they get married and have kids. They like it too much. The capable ones will do a good job. The ones who know how to navigate the system – like Sandwich guy. Their wives will never know.
The rest… I don’t know.
I know now why Matt Kearny writes love songs. Why I was suspicious when I was at his concert. Because it’s all very manipulative. I get it now.
We compose, we write – we create – because it’s our way of getting the girl. It gives us a sense of control, that perhaps we can write our own destinies. To stop missing each other. To not miss the moment. To not let life pass us by.
If I’m really honest with myself, I wrote about Gym Boy because, somewhere, lying deep beneath the veneer of pretense, I secretly always imagined him reading my entries one day.
I asked Davey how he started with the trannies and he said, because it was so easy.
But it’s not easy with Gym Boy. I’m left grasping at straws. To the point where I have to ask myself, was there anything there or did I just imagine it all?
I don’t think I did. There was one time at the gym when he caught me looking at him while he was doing the arm and chest dip. I was pedaling away furiously on the lifecycle.
He took his left hand in front of his heart and he did a little flutter with his fingers. The gesture was so small only I could see it. Like a small dove flew free from the coop. And then he smiled.
I found out last week he’s moving to New York. Now I will play an endless loop of New York to California for myself.
He will never read my entries.
We will never reach that point.
If you write, if you keep a journal or a diary, you know what i’m talking about. Writing gives you a sense of control. There’s a beginning, a middle, and an end. You keep banging your head against the walls and you will see the patterns and make the connections.
I can always write a story.
Where we keep missing each other.