‘Did you have a fun night?’ Daniel asked me as he picked up my arm and wrapped it round his shoulders. He rested his head on my chest, I leant my head against the warm taxi window and we both watched headlights and street lights whizz by. The very last whispers of the hot day had disappeared behind KL’s skyline as the raining season approaching. Daniel sighed contentedly: He loved balmy nights such as these.
Back then... in Melbourne
Daniel felt around for my hand. He found it and our fingers automatically entwined. I remember a period in my life, years ago, back in Melbourne, when getting into a taxi guaranteed that we would immediately pull at each other’s clothes eagerly and make urgent, ham-fisted grabs at one another’s flesh. Desperate for each other, we’re been unwilling to exercise any restraint. I didn’t actively miss that time, not as such. It had always been embarrassing paying the cabbie after he’d seen us all but fornicate on the back seat. Yet, being conscious of the fact that that time in my life was over (for ever) was at once a comfort and challenge for me. I saw that getting older offered all sorts of compensations but I also know that being young was undoubtedly glittering.
‘A great night, thank you.’ I said, with just a slight slur. I turned towards him and kissed him. It was a long, warm, tender kiss. I didn’t try to involve my tongue, considering my state of inebriation, was a definite act of chivalry. Yes, thought Daniel, getting older had all sorts of compensation and being settled with his boyfriend was the biggest one, for changed.
‘A great night, thank you.’ I said, with just a slight slur. I turned towards him and kissed him. It was a long, warm, tender kiss. I didn’t try to involve my tongue, considering my state of inebriation, was a definite act of chivalry. Yes, thought Daniel, getting older had all sorts of compensation and being settled with his boyfriend was the biggest one, for changed.
Before with me, and after me: Daniel had had a few long-term boyfriends and a number of flash-in-the-pan types of boyfriend. They provided an eclectic mix of amazingly passionate and rather more prosaic relationships for him to look back upon fondly.
In his time, he’d dated cute but thoughtless men, frighteningly intelligent but arrogant men, kind but dull men, fabulous but didn’t want his men, fun but going nowhere men, intense but too-much men, black men, asian men, white men. The assortment of liaisons had to things in common.
One, Daniel gave each guy his best shot. He was always fair, faithful, and he tried very hard to suppress or at least disguise any weirdness he undoubtedly harboured. Two, all these men had a but. A big flashing but that signaled they weren’t his ONE.
And then there I was, and not the ONE either…
Daniel and me, we met one another at mid-summer festival at Alexander Park in Melbourne, ten years ago. It all happened the old-fashioned way: our eyes collided across a smoky haze. It wasn’t his usual sort of place, he was not a corner pub sort of boy, in fact it was his first time visiting the mid-summer festival. He’d only ended up there because his friends drag him there.
It wasn’t my frequent visit too even I just live round the corner of the park, but that year, I’ve had to company my guest's from Auckland. I had to bring mates to the party at mid-summer, because they had been planning their trips for this.
Daniel thought it was that sort of thing that might make a person believe in fate and such, although I didn’t (I was resolute that fate, horoscope, tarot cards and karma were all bullocks. I was sure that life was even more random then those crutches would have you believe).
Yes, it was great time and great friend (I guest, we're not suitable as a partner but we were great as a friend). Daniel visit last week was just as great as always, and it always bring up the old memory: How happy we were being together -as a mate-
Till then, and have a lovely and safe flight back home, you'll always in my heart, Missing you already
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