Balance

'Don't waver; Don't stop; Go.'


Some say it's quitting. Some say it’s self-preservation. What leads a person to this point is a very personal choice.


Balance.


That's what this was about for me. Could I stay and give up parts of who I was? Could I live that way? Perpetually off-kilter; missing those bits of, well... me?


I had no idea what I was in for when this all began. It had felt like adding to me in a way, like there was this other half of me suddenly there. One I didn’t even realize had been missing, and he was making me into a whole. What I think I realize in this moment is what I thought completed and finished me was really chipping away at what I think we all seek for ourselves in some fashion. Balance.


What brings balance to you as a person is something we all have to figure out. Is it a person who you find to love and cherish? A career? A family or friends to reassure and reaffirm you? Is it a stranger you meet and in the moment take home for that fleeting connection? Are those things the things that center and ground you in who you are and what your place is in life?


I have always believed we all have two sides; one that gives and one that takes. How do we reconcile those two sides and the actions they incite us to? Can we be both or do we have to be one or the other? If we can be only one, a giver or a taker, to find bliss must we find someone who is our diametric opposite to achieve that one thing we all yearn for?


Gods, those thoughts kept coming to me as I lay alone in my lonely bed, keeping sleep at bay. They incite me to reach for my pen and paper; the urge to scribble the ideas that echo in my brain undeniable. I can't control it; when this comes I simply give in to the tide and watch the words flow. Some nights I'm sitting up with my keyboard. Other times, like now, my cheap pen is furiously scratching across the blank lines with what I am sure will reveal to be drivel in the morning. Some mornings, my bleary eyes open with the sunlight streaming in the windows and scan the page and frown, other times... well, as you are reading this, so I guess I must have decided it’s not complete crap.


Tonight the subject that weights on my mind is... You guessed it, balance. Hence the title of this little bit of soul revelation you are currently reading. Well, maybe not. I'm sure quite a few people will read the first few paragraphs and go, bleh, too introspective for me or where are the hot guys? Bear with me; I promise I'm getting there; a little reward for those who persevere.


But back to balance. See, I'm writing this hoping someone who reads it will help me out. I need answers. I need to know what is going to achieve that elusive state for me. Because to go or to stay; that has become my choice. Which will bring better balance; bring me closer to that ideal me, the one who will be happy and content?


I guess if I am going to ask for your help I should be willing to spill all the dirty details. This is where the hot guy comes in. See, all you had to do was be patient. Though I guess the hot guy is really my idea of a hot guy; maybe Brandon isn't to your taste but he certainly was to mine. He had that elusive inner quality that made him absolutely breathtaking; maybe a way of moving or talking, maybe it was just his looks, I don’t know. But I do know that he was simply stunning, the type of handsome that drew your eyes no matter who you were and what kind of person you were attracted to.


I met him in the oddest place, a women's lingerie store. Now before you can't help but imagine me in lace panties and a garter belt as I lay here in bed writing this for you; I was there for the lotion. I know... Yeah, right, you're thinking. But really it's true. If you don't believe me you can just go... Hmm, censor here.


I guess that thought was too offensive for my editing pen, oh well. So since we've established I was there for the lotion I'm sure the next question you had was what about Brandon? Well he WAS there for the lingerie; but for his girlfriend. In my defense he was standing there holding a bra up to his chest and then to the not inconsiderable assets of the girl with him, a purse thrown over his shoulder; giggling. He certainly didn’t seem like any straight guy I’d ever seen.


I guess he could have just been the put upon embarrassed boyfriend you sometimes find dragged into these places. They stand outside waiting rooms, forced to hold some tiny bag laughingly called a purse but I chose to believe that Brandon was there for another reason. Can you blame me? Even so I was a little shocked myself at what I did next.


With anyone else my brash caress across their ass and the slipping of my phone number into their back pocket would likely have gotten me pulverized. Not with him. The sparkle of laughter in his shining eyes at my forwardness caused the slight tingle the sight of him gave me to become a full burn. One that scorched my insides and brought a gasp to my lips. My erection threatened to burst through my pants when he unconsciously licked his bottom lip then sucked it into his mouth biting down gently as he gave my body a slow perusal from head to toe. I guess he thought I was a hot guy too.


I left without either of us saying a word; just exchanging a nod, and then the wait began. My thoughts were whirling as I drove home, my lack of attention a distinct threat to every other car on the road. Would he call me? Would a gorgeous ripped god with an ass that tight and a bulge as big as the one I saw trying to punch through his zipper have any interest in me? I mean; I was tanned, lean and my features were often described as patrician and handsome but he was simply unbelievably hot. I had sadly come to the conclusion after my internal diatribe finished that he wouldn’t give me a second thought. To my shock not even two hours passed before he called.


In a deep voice he invited me for a drink at Maeson's. The husky tone sent a shiver up my spine to lodge at the base of my head and ignite a fever that soon enveloped my whole body. He didn't introduce himself; he didn't give me a time, just the invitation and then the phone clicked off. He was being mysterious. I normally steered clear of Maeson's, a notorious gay bar was a known spot for easy hook-ups and to find one night stands. The worst rumors were of the back rooms. I don't judge but I'd never done that before; met a stranger I had to have so badly that I would put out for them. Well, until I met Brandon that is. I would have been willing to meet him anywhere to soothe the aching burn in my body that rich voice had brought to life with just a single sentence.


We met and had a few drinks. Like horny teenagers we were unable to keep our hands off each other. I bet you are groaning now, thinking I will keep all the naughty details to myself. Would I do that? After you have faithfully kept reading all this time? Hmm… Okay, so maybe if I would. But… I guess promised all the dirty details, right? I guess that means I will have to back up just a bit.


Walking into Maeson's I’d been experiencing a few qualms until I met those laughing eyes standing at the bar. Sitting down at a booth with him he sat next to me instead of across the table. I was lost when he smoothly slid a palm up my thigh and asked if I felt the pull to him as strong as he felt for me. I knew there would be no going back now; no second thoughts. He growled in satisfaction as my fingers clutched his shirt to bring him closer to me and I nodded, unable to speak. He moved in smoothly, like a shark intent on his prey, pausing for only a second then covered my mouth with his in a hard kiss that consumed me and left me gasping.


He pulled back from me and licked his lips, his hand still gripping the back of my neck, and suggested going back to my place in a slightly hoarse voice. We stood up from the table and left the bar, so immersed in each other’s presence and lips that we didn’t see the crowd eyeing our very visible erections or the slightly shocked cab driver who gaped at us kissing in the backseat. I have no idea if it was raining or if the stars shone in a clear night sky, I certainly don’t recall taking the elevator up or exactly how I got my key in the door.


I don’t even remember shutting the front door but it was a good thing I did. He was ripping off my clothes and I was whining in frustration as I struggled to get his off at the same time. The second our clothes were off we sank down to the carpet and fucked each other silly right there on the living room floor. It was urgent and physical; a fast and furious taking from each other, no whispered wooing words or teasing foreplay, just hot visceral sex. You'd think being that intimate with a virtual stranger would feel impersonal but each growl, whimper, and strained cry uttered said volumes to both of us about the other. My climax caught me unaware when the angle he was pounding my prostate changed as he leaned down to kiss me, biting my lower lip as he moved furiously. His own release followed just after and he froze for a long moment, his breathing ragged before falling on top of me.


Eventually we managed to make our way to my bedroom, the trembling in our limbs making the short journey seem long and arduous. Collapsed across the bed atop the covers we were unable to keep our hands from wandering across the smooth flesh that glistened in the moonlight. We fell asleep that way, facing each other with our head on the same pillow, limbs intertwined.


That night was just the first of many that Brandon spent with me. We were always intimate at my place; we had to act circumspectly at his because Brandon said his roommate was a raging homophobe. It wasn't only meeting for great sex with us though; we went out, hitting gay friendly bars, clubs, and restaurants across the city. I remember one time we went to dinner. We hadn't been dating long but I already knew by then that he was special.


Brandon picked me up that night and took me to a lovely Italian restaurant, not big, one of those cozy little hole-in-the-wall places with great food and discreet service. He ordered a nice wine and a huge dish of pasta to share. I might have objected to him choosing for me but when our meal came he elegantly twirled the pasta around his fork with his spoon and fed me. It was delicious and intimate and made me shiver. I teased him, slowly sliding my lips over the fork as he drew it back. His eyes were filled with lust and he’d growled. I had smiled and sipped my wine, satisfied with his reaction, knowing what it would earn me later. I wasn't able to walk properly for days afterward.


We spent quite a few of our weeknights together but he was often unavailable on the weekend. He claimed that work kept him busy and since he always called it reassured me that he was thinking of me and would be with me if he could. Usually if he was busy on Friday or Saturday night he would come by the next morning and we would spend the day together; often in bed, his way of making it up to me. He was attentive, and fun, and we had a blast.


Summer turned to fall and fall to winter. We both separated for Christmas Eve, celebrating with our families. We didn’t want to bring the pressure of meeting them to bear on our relationship yet but once done with the familial obligations we met back at my apartment so we could wake up together on our first holiday. We woke up late and kissed, wishing each other Merry Christmas in excited voices. He had gotten up and pulled a box out of his bag and I had smiled cheekily before handing him his present that I had hid under the bed. He loved the black watch with the leather wristband, classy and elegant looking. He had gotten me a pen, engraved with our names and the date of our first Christmas. I had burst into tears when he told me that anything that came from my mind was way too important for a cheap pen, I deserved the best to preserve my thoughts.


Winter turned to spring which turned back to early summer. Brandon was a good match for me when it came to outdoor activities, we both liked to cycle and hike. Often we would pack a lunch and grab our bikes to ride the trails in the woods. Picnics were frequent, full of finger foods and make out sessions in the shade of the trees amid the sweet flowers. The more time we spent together the more I was fell head over heels for him. The pinnacle though was the weekend we went away to a gay B&B on the Bay about a year after we met.


It had been quaint; our room tiny and dominated by the down filled bed that was so soft that felt as though we were making love on a cloud. And Brandon was definitely my angel. This was the first time sex stayed slow and intimate; the act one of making love, not athletic sweaty sex or rough coupling. Caught up in the sweet passion of the moment I told Brandon I loved him. He kissed me, his tongue stroking mine with almost a feeling of reverence. He had leaned his forehead against mine and whispered those three little words that I so longed to hear. I had been lighter than air; I was floating in a world that revolved around my man and the love I now knew we shared. Euphoric... That's the word for it. I had found my other half; we loved each other. I was now complete. I had achieved balance!


Or so I thought. Not long after that trip my heart came hurtling back to earth from those passion filled heights to be dashed to bloody pieces. It happened the day I saw them with their arms wound tight around each other and their lips moving in a passion filled kiss. Maybe you guessed it; yep, it was the girl from the lingerie store, his girlfriend. I had muffled the tears and the cry of denial that threatened to burst from my throat. Stopped dead in the street; people were bumping into me as I stood stock still against the flow of traffic. The disturbance made him look up, his eyes seeking until they locked with mine. His had widened and mine had shut; maybe I was hoping that when I opened them back up again that horrific sight would have gone away.


I had counted to three then opened my eyes; hoping against hope. This time I saw him coming toward me with a big smile on his face but his eyes... They were nervous, shifting back and forth. His back was toward the girl staring at him and me, her brows drawn together and a puzzled frown gracing her puffy, freshly kissed lips. He opened his mouth to say something but I shook my head in denial, of what I'm not sure exactly, but I was certainly trying to deny whatever it was access to my stunned mind. I backed away holding my hands up, still shaking my head before I broke and ran. This time I left a trail of people behind me protesting indignantly to my abrupt manner as I shoved them out of my way as I fled.


I had been sitting dumbly at my kitchen table when he came in a few hours later. A bag was packed with all the stuff he had at my place and sitting next to me on the floor. Brandon came straight to me, like metal drawn to a magnet, pushing back my chair and falling to his knees in front of me. He had begged and pleaded for understanding; promising that she was an ex-girlfriend only and that kiss had been all her idea. He said it meant nothing and I so desperately wanted to believe him that I caved. I let him carry me off to the bedroom and make it all better as he sucked and stroked every inch of my body before making sweet gentle love to me. Shaking, sweaty, he had wrapped me in his arms and swearing undying love and devotion as we fell asleep. After that we were closer than ever and moved in together; sharing our days and most of our nights. We were a couple, splitting the mundane tasks and the onus of day to day life yet not losing that spark that made things exciting and new.


But that night soon became a pattern. I would accept his excuses and denials and let his blatant lies pass as truth, hiding my head in the sand like an ostrich. If I didn't see it I could choose not to believe it. This went on for another eight months… Until today. Today I had my head ripped from the sand and my eyes forced open to the ugly reality of my life. I was stupid and had to face the awful truth that my other half wasn't MY other half. I was reeling; literally staggered back in my chair as I watched them slide out of the elevator hanging on each other, her hands all over him. He wasn't shoving her off either, leaning down to whisper something that made her laugh coyly, and then I clearly saw him run his tongue along the rim of her ear. It caused the same shudder in her that little move did in me, the one that would turn into a sensuous writhe if he kept it up. The way I had writhed against him before he left for his ‘business trip.’ this morning.


I was sitting in the hotel restaurant, giving a presentation over dinner on the latest bio-tech marvel my company was showcasing for our prime investor when I saw them. He didn't see me this time so he was completely unaware of my observation and free in his actions. As they slipped across the lobby I saw him slide a hand down over her ass and heard her squeal then giggle. It made me sick; so much so that my Cobb salad had almost come back up. I choked out the rest of my speech and then left ignoring the confused look of the investor and the irate expression on the face of my boss.


I had raced home and stood in the center of our apartment, the one we found together, the one where we mixed our belongings and hearts and made a life together. I didn't pack a bag again, that wasn't going to work. I was going to have to make a monumental decision; I had to face this head on. I sat in that chair again, toying with the little silver key to the front door with trembling fingers for hours. Finally, when he didn't come home I put on my pajamas and curled up in our bed, lying in the dark as the tears leaked from my eyes to soak into my pillow. The silence was echoing and my mind was saying, 'Don't waver; Don't stop; Go' while my fear was trying to keep me here, rooted to this place and relationship. He was my other half; he completed me. Didn't he? Was I able to stay with our life like this? Could I go?


So that is my story and this is my quandary. Picking up my writing tools these words and memories came flying out, spewing from the pen as my hand flies across the page, sometimes in smooth motions and other times in starts and stops as I paused to remember or to blot my tears when the memories came too clearly.


So, this is what I come to you with. If I ignore his infidelity and lies I would lose bits of myself; my self-respect and my self-worth just to name two, though they were the most important in my eyes. Could I be a complete person with those things missing? Could I still offer my true self and feel like I am being offered that same gift in return with a person who valued me so little that he would cheat on me and lie to me about it? What am I willing to give up to have this ideal I have clung to so strongly since I met Brandon?


Was it even that important that I kept all I considered 'me' if he was there? Was it inevitable that a person had to give up certain things in order to stay in a relationship? Was it unreasonable to expect what I did from my lover? Should I go with the flow and just appreciate the extra time and attention he gave to me in compensation for those times I now realized he was with her? I loved him; whether or not it was returned the same way, should that not be enough to give me the conviction to see this through?


As I see it, the answer comes down to what has more value, a whole me or a whole us. This is the balance I spoke of earlier. I long for the ability to either go with my head and leave in such a manner so that there was no going back; or to listen to my aching heart that begged me to stay and work it out. What would leave the most 'me' intact? Which action would bring me that sense of fulfillment and peace we all crave? Unable to decide I lack even a semblance of balance and my very nature calls for an end to this agonizing state. So now you know the story and what is on the line, now that you know exactly where I am coming from; what would you do?