the stuff of fairy tales

NOLA, November 2, 7:15 pm: I walked into the restaurant/bar on a quieter street (it's all kind of relative, especially 2 days after Halloween) with several classmates and some residents/interns. 19 in all, I think we were. As the hostess walked us to the back of the room, I saw a young-looking waiter in the service area and thought "I hope he's waiting our table." Sure enough he was, and he was easy on the eyes up close. Short, about my weight, fresh-faced, twinkling eyes, and hair tastefully done. Nice. And then he started talking. I cannot remember the very first thing he said, but I was laughing from the get-go. I said something smart, and he quipped, "You behave, now, or I'll drag you to the bar and have some big tranny smack you around, honey." Everything from there on out was between him and me. I swear I was staring at him from that point on. And he was staring BACK. The moment I knew I had him was when he brought me back my drink order: I had asked for a rum and coke, and he plunked a whiskey sour in front of me. Everyone around me looked at me, looked at him, and tried to get his attention and point out the error. I tried to play it off, but he ran and got a rum and coke. I was grinning on the inside, though. He had been unable to pay attention while I gave my order. He LIKED me! We kept a steady stream of witty banter going through dinner, and at one point he said, "If I don't look out, I'm going to be calling you 'Boss' in the morning..." When he brought the tickets back, he dropped mine in front of me first and said, "Don't forget to leave your number, honey." I laughed... and then I wrote it down.
As we left, I squeezed his arm and said, "Call me."
His eyes went wide as saucers, and he asked, "You left it?"
"I don't know," I teased, "Did I?"
He whipped out his pen. "Well here, just in case..." I laughed so hard.
"Last check, buddy. Call me when you're off."

I got the first text at 11:40. "Hey handsome, it's your waiter. You up for a drink tonight?" I smiled. This was it.

I met him after midnight in front of the casino and hugged him. He was beautiful. All black (waiter's uniform), pea coat, and the nicest face I've ever seen. As we turned to walk to the bar, I reached down and grabbed his hand. It felt good, natural, easy. We talked on the way to the bar, getting to know each other. We got our first drink at a really small hole-in-the-wall bar, and walked to Jackson Square. There were very few people there, and he started telling me the history of the cathedral there. I was only half listening. My heart was soaring. I FELT something with him. I dragged him over to a metal bench and sat down next to him. "I just want to rest a minute," I said, "My heart is racing."
"You just want to make out, don't you?" he teased.
I promptly set my drink down and said earnestly "Yes please."

That first kiss blew every other kiss I have ever had away. I knew it then. This one was a keeper.

We went from bar to bar, flirting, talking, drinking, making out, holding hands, until about 3 am. We on the balcony of a gay bar on Bourbon Street and looked out over the dwindling crowd. "You terrify me." He said.
"Why?"
"Because I'm falling for you, hard. I really like you. I could date you, but I have no way of knowing if you just came to town to get your rocks off and then leave me. You say all the right things, you're sweet, you're romantic, you're hot..." I laughed. "No seriously," he insisted, "You're all I've ever wanted. I'm afraid you won't feel the same way." I kissed him deeply, dipping him over the railing.
"I'm right there with you." I said quietly. "I've been looking for someone who was just as romantic, just as passionate, just as open as me. You're it."
He looked into my eyes for a few moments, and then: "Come on, baby, let's get a room."
We danced and sang our way down the street to a hotel in the French Quarter. It ended with him singing me a selection from "Beauty and the Beast" (which he had played the Beast in at one point somewhere, I wasn't listening), at the end of which I put him into a dip over my knee and kissed him softly.

We spent the next 3 nights at that hotel in room 409. We cuddled, we had sex, we slept together, bathed together, watched TV together, we got up every morning and did the exact same thing for breakfast: split a croissant and 2 pastries, each with a glass of water and a glass of OJ while he read the newspaper and I gawked at the hot guy I got to sleep with the night before. We went on walks around the city, visited his house, met his roommate, walked around Audubon Park, watched the musical episode of "Buffy" while we cuddled... Tuesday night I came out to my friends when I invited Jason to dinner with us, and they all recognized him from the night before. They were so excited for me, and they kept hugging me, telling me "Aw, I love you!" and that they had never seen me happier. We all got drunk and bar hopped around. It was honestly one of the best nights of my life. They loved Jason. He loved them. We loved each other around them. Wednesday night Jason and I went on a date and got Italian at one of the best spot in town for laid-back cuisine. He found the design for a tattoo he wants (a phoenix in the shape of a fleur de lis, go figure) on the wall, carried me piggy back out of the restaurant, and I have no idea what else we did that night.

Oh, that's right, we had lots and lots of sex. It was my first time having 'real' sex, and I could not get enough of it. He told me it was the first time he's ever call it "making love" because it's the first time he's really cared that much. I had to agree. I have never felt like this about anyone.

I left the next morning. It was hard. I wanted to stay for weeks. We had spent nearly every waking and sleeping moment together. Falling asleep next to the most beautiful man I have ever been with, waking up with him, spending all of our time together, and doing it all over... I was in my own personal heaven.

It's now the 18th. 16 days it's been since Jaybird and I met (that's his nickname, mine is Jameson because of the whiskey sour/rum and coke incident), 13 since we last kissed. We have talked on the phone every morning and every night since then, at the very least. He has had to get a new phone plan even though I'm the only one he talks to on the phone. This is the easiest, most natural relationship I've ever had.

We're learning a lot about each other, and about ourselves. I cuddled with PB the other night after playing DD for him and his 21 y.o. friend. Jaybird told me he was jealous. I could relate, and I felt horrible. The first time the boy slept with another guy when we were e-mailing it tore me up. I thought that should have been me, I should have been there... but I couldn't be. I felt terrible doing the same thing to Jaybird, but at the same time I am having a hard time imagining myself not cuddling with my straight guy friends. He says it's ok if I do, and that he has to deal with his own severe jealousy issues, but I don't want him to have to. I want to be the kind of man he can love with ease. Nothing should come between us, but I guess sometimes things do, and we need to learn to cope with that. (He actually told me that he's ok if I sleep around, but I refuse to. He won't, so I won't. Besides, I tried an open relationship with the boy, and it felt terrible. You should never have to share someone you love like that, and vice-versa.)

Every day feels like a fairytale. The things we say to each other would probably make most people gag, but as he said in NOLA, it's incredible to find someone who talks the same way and is equally romantic. He's masculine, hairy, shorter than me, thick (not fat, but meaty), yet cries with regularity at the things I say to express my love. I mean, I made him cry the first night we were in bed together.

When you find what you've been looking for your whole life... You know it.

I am the luckiest man alive...

Postscript:
Boy,
If you still read this, I forgive you for leaving me like you did. I was incredibly hurt and angry at first, and wanted you out of my life. I wrote you a very upsetting letter and never sent it. I couldn't. I still love you, but not like that. Jaybird tells me that he still hangs out with his exes regularly. He says his break-ups aren't bad. He even sleeps in the same bed with the one sometimes. That sounds so foreign to me. I wish ours had been a little better. I wish we could still talk. I wish you didn't think of me like you do. My feelings for you have passed, and as trite as it sounds, I got over you. (Mostly because of Jay, but that's not the point.)

I'd like to be able to talk to you about our lives again. I know you won't have feelings for me again, and after the "break-up," I can never see you the way I did before. If you ever get to the point you think you can be friends like we talked about months ago, drop me a line, you know where to find me. Otherwise, you're free to keep up with me here. I don't mind anymore. You were a good lesson for me, and you're a wonderful young man with so much to give. I hope you find that inside yourself someday and can truly fall in love with someone who is madly in love with you. You're easy to love; it's not easy to be loved by you.

All the best,
Percy