#110 Rotary Boo update
Rotary Boo and I texted a tiny bit towards the end of my flight (Delta had both of the obscure movies he’d recommended the night before) and then I didn’t hear from him for two days. Later, he would tell me that he waited until I had fully left Seattle before reading my letter, which tracks with the sudden drop in text-o-metric pressure.
Those first few post-Seattle days were tinged with a mild misery. Back in NYC, it felt like I no longer fit. I had been feeling this way for months, but now it was unignorable. Even my cute & cozy apartment felt oppressive. Also, I obviously missed Rotary Boo. My feelings for him were finally certain, but everything else felt foggy and unpredictable. This was only amplified by the fact that he was now basically unresponsive. All I could do was cling to the knowledge that we would talk on the phone at some point that weekend.
We ended up scheduling our call for Saturday afternoon. In the meantime, Goodtime Guy invited me out to a jazz bar on Friday night. I met up with him and his friend, but was feeling distant. Because we are each other’s exclusive sexual partners (we haven’t used condoms in months—my IUD is finally being put to use!), I knew I needed to tell him that I’d had sex with someone else. After a pretty fun night out, Goodtime Guy and I went back to his house. I told him I couldn’t sleep over because I had a workout class in the morning (but also because I couldn’t bear the thought of spooning the night away with someone who wasn’t Rotary Boo). Sitting on his bed, about to commence our Usual, I said I had to tell him something:
Me: I had sex with my friend while I was in Seattle.
Me: We used a condom! But I just wanted to let you know.
GG: So… do you want to use a condom now?
Me: I don’t think we need to? But it’s up to you.
GG: ...I think we’re fine.
I think he was expecting a scarier conversation. When I asked if there was anything else he wanted to say, he said, “well, I think I went on a date while you were gone?” (Confused, I asked what that meant and, long story short, I don’t think it was a date.) With nothing else to discuss, we started to makeout, although I didn’t think I’d be able to get into it. Whenever my brain tried reminding me that this was not the person I ~loved~, I flicked the thought away. Gradually, I felt myself shoving my feelings for Rotary Boo into another area of my mind and locking the door behind them so they wouldn’t see what was about to occur.