January 2013. After far too many drinks on NYE, The Friend and I are alone – all have either left the party or gone to bed. Our conversation turns back to the one we had in Sin City. I make a few comments suggesting I may have interests “elsewhere” also, when he suddenly blurts out “I wanted to be the one in bed with you drinking champagne”. I ask him straight up (haha) if he’s gay. The poor bastard tells me he can’t say “that”, but nods his head. I ask if that’s why he broke off his engagement and he nods again.
I ask why he didn’t just proceed with the marriage and fool around like the rest of us do, and suddenly he stands up. I think I’ve crossed a line and he’s going to leave, when he reaches over and kisses me long, hard and lingeringly. Of course I respond, and we stand for a few minutes exploring with our tongues and lips before stepping back. This is awkward – he doesn’t want anyone in our circle to know (and neither do I), and we now co-exist in a wary state of silence on the subject. Hilariously, my horoscope tells me “I will meet the love of my life tonight”….