I met Olivier soon after I decided that I needed something more serious than just a one-night stand. I met him at the grocery store when we both accidentally grabbed the same baguette. It was love at first sight.
No, I’m kidding. I actually met him on Grindr, like I’ve met all of the other men in my recent life as a single gay man. He messaged me one day asking me about the countries I had visited and then proceeded to tell me where he had been. It wasn’t necessarily love at first sight, but at least we had something in common, other than being on Grindr, that is.
We agreed to a coffee one week later. I was nervous, as I always am when it comes to meeting new people, and tried very hard to figure out the best stories and jokes to tell. In the end, I just let things happened.
What was the worst thing that could happen anyway? Would he never text me back after that date? Girl, please. I’ve faced rejection already, I know how it feels, and I literally don’t care about it anymore. I was mostly worried about wasting my time when I had so much shit to do before getting completely wasted that night.
In any case, we ended up talking for five hours straight. Time really flew by. I was moderately excited but still trying to keep it cool, especially considering that I might be moving to Toronto in six months or so. However, I figured that whatever I did with him, it wouldn’t continue till that happened. What was the point in ruining the moment with questions about the future? I was ready to give and take as much as I could, as long as it didn’t involve a commitment I couldn’t afford to make.
After that wonderful conversation I decided I was hungry and he suggested we could have dinner together. Was that already our second date? I mean, two dates on the same day, with the same guy… That must mean something for sure!
I met him two days after at his place. We made out.
So what did all this mean? I was certainly not looking for a boyfriend. Not in Montreal anyway. As much as I would love to be with someone right now, I am aware that my priority is not having a boyfriend. My priority right now is to find a job, and it is very, very, very likely that it is waiting for me in Toronto.
One night after that, we had sex and it was great.
I was OK with having him inside me. In fact, I was sort of craving it. Ironically, I literally had no intention of letting him inside my heart. I couldn’t afford to go through another break up anytime soon and I certainly couldn’t do long distance again.
Whatever the situation was. I went back to his place one more time. I knew it was probably a bad idea, and I was sure that I would set things in motion that I would not be able to stop on my own. I knew that if I slept with him one more time, there would be a need to define this relationship, there would not be a way out of it. But I went anyway.
And that’s where he told me that he had never had a relationship that had lasted longer than two months, so he was hoping it would be different this time around. With me, that is.
There it was, I was trapped. I had opened Pandora’s Box and now there was no way out. I had to make a decision: I either have to give this relationship a shot or say goodbye to him and his amazing dick.
I chose his dick, of course.
