Bryan Series 1 2 3 4 5 6 7

If you haven't read them in order, you should. That's why I've included this handy little link system thing.

But, I told myself, you were not a possession to be owned. You were a man to be respected and admired. I also told myself that you had to make your decisions on your own, without my forceful need removing your free-will. So, I kept my distance. I didn�t touch you more than that hug. I didn�t hold your hand. I didn�t stroke your hair. I didn�t reach over to touch you to make sure you weren�t an apparition borne of my desire.

I knew I wanted you. I didn�t know if I loved you. I thought I did, but I wasn�t sure. I wanted to be sure it wasn�t the lust in my heart. I wanted to be sure my attraction to you wasn�t just attraction. I needed that distance to prove to myself that what I thought I felt, was genuine.

Anyway, we spent that first night at Olive Garden. You opened the door for me. You assisted me with my chair. You were such a complete gentleman. I hadn�t experienced that before and it was a true pleasure. Yet, it was another reason I forced myself to back off. I didn�t want to put more importance on those gestures than they deserved. I didn�t want to attribute love to chivalrous behavior.

So, we went back to the hotel and spent the evening talking. You drank your wine (exquisite wine, by the way) and I drank some beer. We talked for quite a while. I wanted to reach out and grab you. I wanted to pull you to me. I wanted to drown in the sea of you. But I required myself to wait. I had to be sure I wasn�t just responding to physical/sexual need.

We drove down to the beach the next day. It was a beautiful drive. I introduced you to Mom and Dad. We dropped your bag at the new house we were just moving in to. (It was such a tiny house) We were going to go to the beach and watch the sunset, but Mom promised that they would show up for dinner immediately and we would eat in enough time to watch the sunset after dinner. They didn�t show for nearly half an hour, thus completely canceling out the option of watching the sunset over the Pacific.

I should probably just move on, you were there, you should remember all of this.

We got back to the house and you and I went into my room. We sat on my bed, the only furniture capable of holding a body, let alone two, and we talked. We spoke of fantasies and things that excited us. I wanted to grab you up and hold on until we were no longer two people.

Finally, you went to bed. You slept out there on the couch. In the morning, I went out there and sat on the floor. I watched you as you slept. Maybe you were awake and just pretending to sleep, but I don�t think so. I sat there for nearly an hour, just watching you, studying you, memorizing every line, every curve, every slope, depression and angle of your face. I studied you so gently, so lovingly. I knew then that I wasn�t just imagining things. I knew then that I really and honestly loved you.

But, I was scared. I was scared that you would wake up, see me looking at you like that and think I were some psychotic stalker-type person. I was afraid that you would think I were so repulsive to you that you would run screaming from the house.

So, I got up as quietly as I could and I went downstairs and outside. I sat there on the porch for a while, smoking. I was thinking about you, once again cautioning myself to be absolutely sure that I was in love with you, rather than simply thinking it. Every time I asked myself if I was sure, the instantaneous response was yes. As much as I tried to remain logical and non-emotional, I couldn�t wipe the grin off my face.

Then you came out of the house. You were wearing those gray sweats. Your hair was sleep-mussed. Your eyes weren�t quite focused yet. And I loved you. I felt the gut-wrenching lurch of need-desire-hunger-want. I wanted to see that face every morning for the rest of my life. And I couldn�t stop grinning.

Later in that same day, I was upstairs and you were walking up the steps and your eyes met mine. I was frozen on the spot. All time stopped and I lived an entire lifetime in your eyes. I saw our children in your eyes. I saw tall, strong men with red hair and blue eyes with athletic, swimmer�s bodies. I saw tall, slightly pudgy girls with sparkling green eyes. I saw you, old, wrinkled, toothless, grinning at me. I saw my future in your eyes. And my future was with you. And it was good. So very good.

I blinked. I shook my head. Time started moving again, but in such slow motion that the second hand moved like the minute hand. I saw mountains and ocean in your eyes. I saw Colorado in your eyes. I saw perfection in your eyes. And then, with an audible snap, time leapt into normal progression once more.

But, as soon as that snap happened, something changed inside me. There was no longer any frantic need-lust-want-hunger inside me. I was you, and you were me, and no matter how long it took, I knew that I was perfect within you. In that split second all the pains, aggravations, difficulties and mistakes of my past were erased. But not just erased, eliminated. As if they had never happened.

My relationship with Duncan had never happened. The rape by Jonny never happened. The devastation of being suicidal never happened. The annihilation of Tom�s ultimate betrayal had never happened. My heart was whole. My soul was complete. My life was brand new, and ancient (in a good way) at the same time. And all of this came together in your eyes.

I stopped breathing for a moment. I couldn�t help myself. I knew, without any doubt, that you had been made especially for me. We fit; perfectly.

The rest of the visit was largely a blur. I remember feeling complete. Each morning when I�d wake, I�d go out and watch you sleep. It felt much like perfection to me. I knew it was right. I was calm and completely at peace. I knew that in time, you and I would marry. We would have children. We would grow old together. I�d harass you about your scratched CDs. You�d harass me about being messy. And we�d always end each night with laughter, joy and peace.

We went, that Tuesday night, to the hotel to watch wrestling, drink and goof off with Tolva (for the life of me, I can�t remember his first name. It will come to me soon enough). We drank some, but you weren�t feeling well. You�d had a negative reaction to the pizza we�d consumed earlier. We had fun though. And finally I got up the nerve to stroke you, to love you physically, the only way I could. I told you how wonderful you were. I told you how perfect you were.

We sat there, you leaning back against me. I had my arms around you. I was stroking you, holding you, gently and lovingly affirming my devotion to you. We got a little more intimate. I attempted fellatio. I had my shirt off. With the lights on. And I wasn�t embarrassed. I trusted you. I gave myself to you. I would have done anything you wanted to.