Sex was a requirement, but only when my partner wanted, and never when I felt it was necessary. There were rarely meaningful discussions, meals shared, or quality time spent together. I could count on one hand how many times I had been out to eat with my boyfriends, and as far as I could remember, I hadn’t been to a movie with a man since I was in high school. In two days with Wilson, I had been out to eat twice, seen one movie, and sucked his cock because I wanted to, not because he demanded it. When he arrived to take me on our date earlier, he gave me a card. Inside were no poems, Hallmark sayings, or funny quotes; only a hand written paragraph describing his feelings of what I provided him. As he continued to drive through the neighborhood, I didn’t thank God for allowing our paths to cross, wonder what I had done to deserve him, or allow my mind to drift into thoughts of actually having a meaningful relationship with him.
