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Dorming With Dalton
- Thread starter reed422
- Start date
This is a fantastically descriptive and erotic story, please continue . I think this story has many more chapters that can be written and I and I am sure many more of your fans/readers can't wait to read more.
- Joined
- Sep 8, 2012
- Posts
- 5
- Reaction score
- 0
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- 0
greatest story ever
need me a Dalton
need me a Dalton
Hi, Ford,
Welcome to JUB and the Story board.
Sadly, I am afraid our good author has lost the urge or time for finishing our boys' story.
Welcome to JUB and the Story board.
Sadly, I am afraid our good author has lost the urge or time for finishing our boys' story.
I am really sadden to read that, I felt a connection to the story even though I have never met the characters. This was the first thread I read here when I signed up to JUB.
It's so unrealistic for me to see how much my story has touched people here. I honestly never thought that something I wrote at such a young age would be as popular as it is. I started writing this when I was a junior in high school when I hadn't accepted myself yet. This story gave me the ability enter a world where I could let my gay fantasies run freely. In three years, though, I've done a lot of growing and learned a lot about myself, relationships, love, and life. With that said, I don't know if I could go back to a story I wrote during a much younger state of mind. I don't think the same way I did three years ago. I don't see relationships, love, sex, and all that the same way I did three years ago. I'm sorry to say that I have grown away from this story.
That doesn't mean I've given up on writing entirely. I've been wanting to write a new story to upload here for quite some time. I've probably gone through countless ideas and pilots, but none of them were sufficient enough. I'm currently in the process of going through new ideas, so maybe, and I use maybe loosely, there will be a story from me soon.
I do want to thank everyone for the kind comments and support, though. It means a lot to me.
(I'm sorry if this reply got any of your hopes up.)
That doesn't mean I've given up on writing entirely. I've been wanting to write a new story to upload here for quite some time. I've probably gone through countless ideas and pilots, but none of them were sufficient enough. I'm currently in the process of going through new ideas, so maybe, and I use maybe loosely, there will be a story from me soon.
I do want to thank everyone for the kind comments and support, though. It means a lot to me.
(I'm sorry if this reply got any of your hopes up.)
Craiger
JUB Addict
The main thing, Reed, is to know you are alive and well and you may, at some time in the future, grace us with another tantalizing story. Thank you for posting your explanation for the long desired update. It is completely understandable as we all change as time goes by.
Craiger
Craiger
Hi Reed, you are going to think that i am rough with you but its because i am having a king of an anger against you. I explain: I can easily understand that you are not the same guy today than 3 years ago and that your body, your mind etc ... have changed.
Nonetheless when an author begin a story he has 2 choices:
1st: he write the whole story from the 1st to the last word and then he decides whether or not to publish it chapter after chapter until the end and then the readers are happy because they will have the entire story.
2nd : he write the story and he decides to publish it as soon as the 1st chapter is written, then the readers are waiting for days or weeks for the next chapter to come.
It goes on like that for a while until the author tells us he is not going further in the story and that is very frustrating for all the readers. One can very easily understand that an author stops or takes a very very long time between 2 chapters when he has physical problems or illness but he do all his best to still write the story, BUT when its because the author is a bit fed up with his story and stops it in the middle of nowhere its hardly understandable - at least for me -
When i say that, I must say you are not the only one to act like that, ( Contrary to you who tell us clearly that you stop and that is kind of you ), most of them dont even say they stop and although the fact that you've started your story 3 years ago, to stop it like you do,is really frustrating for your readers.
I don't know if you are going to write some others stories but if you do i wont read them because, and i might be wrong, but i am nearly sure you'll never go till the end.
Sorry to be a bit rough with you, but nonetheless i wish you happiness, sex, love and all the best in your life
P.S: English is not my mother tongue so excuse me for the mistakes that you can find here and there.
Nonetheless when an author begin a story he has 2 choices:
1st: he write the whole story from the 1st to the last word and then he decides whether or not to publish it chapter after chapter until the end and then the readers are happy because they will have the entire story.
2nd : he write the story and he decides to publish it as soon as the 1st chapter is written, then the readers are waiting for days or weeks for the next chapter to come.
It goes on like that for a while until the author tells us he is not going further in the story and that is very frustrating for all the readers. One can very easily understand that an author stops or takes a very very long time between 2 chapters when he has physical problems or illness but he do all his best to still write the story, BUT when its because the author is a bit fed up with his story and stops it in the middle of nowhere its hardly understandable - at least for me -
When i say that, I must say you are not the only one to act like that, ( Contrary to you who tell us clearly that you stop and that is kind of you ), most of them dont even say they stop and although the fact that you've started your story 3 years ago, to stop it like you do,is really frustrating for your readers.
I don't know if you are going to write some others stories but if you do i wont read them because, and i might be wrong, but i am nearly sure you'll never go till the end.
Sorry to be a bit rough with you, but nonetheless i wish you happiness, sex, love and all the best in your life
P.S: English is not my mother tongue so excuse me for the mistakes that you can find here and there.
- Joined
- Oct 9, 2004
- Posts
- 60,885
- Reaction score
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It's always GREAT to hear from You, Reed! I'm happy that you're doing well. 
And, yes, it's entirely understandable that Life, itself, changes over time. And, that's not necessarily a "Bad Thing" at all! In fact, I'm hoping that you've found that to be a "Good Thing"!
Are we disappointed that "our" story won't continue? Of course we are! However, it was never "our" story in the first place! It was Your story to write, and I think it's quite impressive that you managed to achieve such a successful undertaking at such a young age!
You have a Natural Talent! I'm sure we would All like to see you pursue it in whatever form that might take in the future! However, I also know that it depends on how You are feeling/thinking, and what You might desire to do. And, that's entirely "kewl"!
In any case, do please "drop by" occasionally, keep in touch, and let "Just Us Boys" know how you're doing!
And, of course ... no matter what ...
Keep smilin'!!
Chaz
And, yes, it's entirely understandable that Life, itself, changes over time. And, that's not necessarily a "Bad Thing" at all! In fact, I'm hoping that you've found that to be a "Good Thing"!
Are we disappointed that "our" story won't continue? Of course we are! However, it was never "our" story in the first place! It was Your story to write, and I think it's quite impressive that you managed to achieve such a successful undertaking at such a young age!
You have a Natural Talent! I'm sure we would All like to see you pursue it in whatever form that might take in the future! However, I also know that it depends on how You are feeling/thinking, and what You might desire to do. And, that's entirely "kewl"!
In any case, do please "drop by" occasionally, keep in touch, and let "Just Us Boys" know how you're doing!
And, of course ... no matter what ...
Keep smilin'!!
Chaz
Calagang,
I know you're disappointed/upset. Please don't be.
I have found the story forum to be much more than just tellers of tales over the years.
As Reed succinctly stated, this was a conduit for him to come to terms with who he was then, and helped him grow to who he is now. I know several authors for whom this is true.
Because of that greater import, while I would *like* to see the story(ies) continue, I understand the therapeutic benefit and greater import for the authors.
I'd invite you to try and understand that, particularly on this forum, and make allowances for it.
One of the most rewarding things to me has been the privilege to get to know so many good people on here.
I went through a coming to fully know myself much later in life than the "kids" who are on here today.
If I have been able to help them through friendly encouragement of their writing skills, or have been here to just lend an ear and a shoulder now and again, that is more than enough.
I would dearly love to meet many of the people I've come to know on here.
I know you're disappointed/upset. Please don't be.
I have found the story forum to be much more than just tellers of tales over the years.
As Reed succinctly stated, this was a conduit for him to come to terms with who he was then, and helped him grow to who he is now. I know several authors for whom this is true.
Because of that greater import, while I would *like* to see the story(ies) continue, I understand the therapeutic benefit and greater import for the authors.
I'd invite you to try and understand that, particularly on this forum, and make allowances for it.
One of the most rewarding things to me has been the privilege to get to know so many good people on here.
I went through a coming to fully know myself much later in life than the "kids" who are on here today.
If I have been able to help them through friendly encouragement of their writing skills, or have been here to just lend an ear and a shoulder now and again, that is more than enough.
I would dearly love to meet many of the people I've come to know on here.
Craiger
JUB Addict
Calagang, as with everything in life, times change, personalities change, experiences change. As you must be aware, it is never ending. So please do not be to harsh on Reed. His needs and desires are most important at this time. The story was his to give and we were lucky enough to read it chapter for chapter as long as he felt the need to write. His life has taken a new path and we, though sadly, must honor his decision. One of the most wonderful things about the written word is that we, in our own minds, can fill the gaps that may occur. Continue the story for yourself in a way that can satisfy your desires. Bring it to the proper end that you may have envisioned Reed to have written. I will continue to read anything he plans to write and share with us and I think most members will do the same. Be happy with the fact that he has not abandoned us completely.
Craiger
Craiger
AndrewC88
Sex God
I wish this story was finished
Okay. I was going through the comments on this the other day and saw how many people were tied to this story. Specifically the angry comments about this not being finished. And then I read how I told you all that this wasn't the same story for me that it once was. But in a way, it is. While I've changed and grown and became a person I once wasn't, this was one of the first major things I wrote that helped me in ways I didn't know. I'd say it may have done the same for some of you. So, while I can't dive into the story where it was, I can give you this. I can give you guys a new approach to the story that I think you could like. I knew I couldn't dive back into where this story left off, but I do know how I want to bridge the gap and continue the story until I feel it can close. I don't know when that will be or what it will look like just yet, but having written this new chapter, I want to give it a go. So, if you can bear with me, I will do my best and hopefully give you the story back that you've grown to like. With that said, I hope whoever reads this, enjoys.
Dorming with Dalton: Chapter Sixteen
Six Years Later
It felt weird being back here. I left Connecticut without any intention to come back. I transferred to Columbia after my second year because there was just too much here. Too many memories, good and bad. Everyone thought I was crazy to leave Yale. My advisor tried to stop me with the knowledge of losing some credits, but it was something I just had to do.
I’m breaking up with you, Christian.
Those words still haunt me to this day. Nothing was wrong. Nothing. And it was like I lost a part of myself. I fell for him faster than I should have. He fell for me faster than he wanted. And with everything that happened between us, it seemed like we were meant to be. Destined, even. But that random Tuesday over winter break, he uttered those words and told me he needed to set me free. But what did free even mean. How could freedom hurt so much. How could setting me free make me flee like a wounded dog. He told me he felt like he was smothering me. That there was so much I needed to experience and see and do that he didn’t want to keep me from. And even with tears and choked pleas for him to not do this, he still left.
I almost didn’t go back for my spring semester. I planned to stay home and take time off to deal with the devastation he left me with, but my sister didn’t let me. She rallied behind me, told me to not let some guy control me that much. But Dalton wasn’t just some guy. It just wasn’t some relationship. I felt bonded to him, like we were supposed to go through life together. I wanted to go through life together with him and I think he did, too, but after he blindsided me, he ignored me. He didn’t pick up my calls. He didn’t answer any of my texts. His sister avoided me until she eventually told me that he’s off the radar. That even she can’t get ahold of him. I started to think maybe I was the cause. Maybe I ruined him. Maybe he wasn’t ready to be out and I forced him. Maybe I scared him away.
It wasn’t easy dealing with it, but I managed to go back and get my transfer application in and do meetings and phone calls to set it all up. I left Connecticut that May. I left everyone behind. I just couldn’t do it. I couldn’t stay in touch with anyone. And maybe that made me just as bad as him, but I just couldn’t do it. I moved home, back into my old room, and did two summer sessions to get back on track. I wanted to die, but I did it. I reconnected with high school friends. I spent weekends with them, reminiscing, growing closer through college struggles. They helped me through it. They were my crutch when I couldn’t stand on my own. And slowly, it didn’t hurt as much. I’d miss him when I’d lie awake at night or was drunk, but it began to pass. He started to become a memory.
Eventually, I dated and hooked up. I put myself out there again. I kept my distance from everyone. I had trust issues because of him. He was someone I shared everything with, someone who took care of me, and he left me on a random Tuesday. I didn’t want to get close to anybody again. I didn’t want to open like that to potentially be destroyed from the inside out. He damaged me and it felt almost beyond repair until I met Nicolas in my first class of that fall semester. He was shy and quiet and wore a turtleneck. He had glasses and short curly hair. He spoke eloquently when answering questions and his voice was warm. We’d steal glances at each other until he started to smile at me when he’d catch me. Over the course of that semester, we’d start sitting closer to each other, stealing glances, sharing smirks, until I finally introduced myself one day after class.
“I’m Christian,” I finally said.
“I know,” he smiled at me. “Nicolas,” his Greek accent more prominent.
“How are you liking the class?” I matched his stride so we were shoulder to shoulder on the snowy sidewalk.
“The professor’s a bore,” he smiled again. “It’s given me time to find more appealing things.”
My cheeks blushed for the first time in a while.
“Do you want to get a coffee with me?”
“I would,” he slightly leaned into my shoulder.
“Okay,” I laughed to myself. “Okay.”
It was easy with Nicolas. He was light and full of life and positivity. We’d walk through the park after classes and he’d tell me all the things he loved about the city and then tell me all the things he loved about Greece. He’d read me his favorite poetry and I’d have to keep myself from drooling at his accent. He finally kissed me one day in the middle of our coffee shop and for a moment I wanted to push him away, but I sank into it instead. He smiled and grabbed my hand and I just let him. It felt right. For the first time in about a year, something felt right again. I eventually told him about Dalton, told him about my time at Yale. How it was a whirlwind romance, how I met his family, was included in all parts of his life. And him mine. I told him about the attack and how I moved in with him shortly after that. And I finally told him about that Tuesday and how it made me come back to New York and why I’m nervous about this. And he understood. He kissed me and understood. He took my hand and told me he understood.
We took our time with our relationship. We went on stupid dates. We went to open mics at little divey places he somehow knew about. We’d go to museums and shows and just spends nights walking around the city that never sleeps. I introduced him to my family the following spring and I guess that’s when we became serious. He brought me to an aunt’s house in Queens and despite the fear that they wouldn’t accept this kind of relationship, they were nothing but warm. We started going there on Sundays for family dinner where they’d fill my plate whenever it had space.
We got an apartment together our senior year. We graduated together. Our families had a party for us together. We helped each other get jobs. We helped each other pick out clothes our first day. We started to vacation together when we both had real jobs and could start to enjoy life. Holidays, birthdays, family events--we were entwined in each other’s lives and it was easy. We even went to Greece the next summer after graduation when we had enough money saved for airfare and I met his parents and siblings and cousins. It was a beautiful relationship that made me feel loved, safe, and valued. It was everything I wanted with Dalton, except Nicolas would never hurt me like he did. Nicolas made me almost forget everything with Dalton. He eased all the pain that Dalton caused. I loved him.
I asked him to come to my brother graduation and it was a no brainer for him. He kissed me and wrapped his arms around me and told me he wouldn’t be anywhere else. He got along with my brother better than I did. The two of them texted all the time and whenever Mike was home, they’d hangout without me. It was everything I could have hoped for. It was everything I hoped for. Having him at Yale by my side made it bearable. He checked on me the entire drive up and didn’t let go of my hand once when we got out of the car. Even in the sweltering heat that made our hands clammy, he didn’t let go. The only time we broke contact was when my brother walked across the stage and we clapped. We waited in a sea of people still holding hands until my brother found us and they went off together to do God knows what. My parents were happily having a moment together while my sister and her fiancé fanned each other with pamphlets.
“Christian?”
A chill went through my spine. That voice. That voice couldn’t be his. He couldn’t be here. I reluctantly turned around, white in the face.
“No.”
“Christian, please.”
“No,” I said with a knot in my throat. “Why are you here?”
“My niece graduated.”
“Why are you here?”
“I just told you,” he laughed and it brought me right back to six years ago.
“No, why are you right here?” I choked. “Why am I looking at you?”
“I heard the last name. I didn’t think anything of it, but then I saw you,” he exhaled. “Well, I thought it was you, but then thought it was my imagination. I was leaving, but then I really saw it was you. I don’t know why, but I had to come see you.”
“You didn’t. You have no right to come see me.”
“Christian, ple-“
“No! You left me,” I jabbed my finger into my chest. “You left me,” my voice wavered. “You don’t get to show up now and be the good guy. You don’t get to do anything because you left me.”
“I’m sorry.”
“You’re sorry!” I laughed. “That’s it? You’re sorry. Well, Dalton, that’s not enough. You don’t get to be sorry.”
I turned to walk away and took three steps. I stopped with his glare on the back of my head and spun on my heels.
“I loved you, you know.”
“I know.”
“And I guess you didn’t love me.”
“That’s not it, Christian.”
“It has to be it!” the crowd around us started to thin out. I grabbed him by his jacket and led him to a tree where we could hide from my family. “What other reason could there be?”
“I did it because I loved you.”
“Oh, bullshit, Dalton!”
“See, you’ve grown.”
“What?” disgust dripped from my tongue.
“You grew. You found your feet. I smothered you, Christian.”
“You didn’t smoth-“
“I did,” he looked at me with honest eyes. “You were eighteen and I was twenty-three. I wasn’t out. I wasn’t who I needed to be.”
“None of us were!”
“I didn’t leave you because I didn’t love you. I didn’t love me, Christian. I became this person after my parents died that I woke up one day and didn’t like. And you fell for me and I was glad you did because I didn’t think anybody could,” he smiled. “I woke up one day and didn’t recognize the person in the mirror. And it was wrong to do what I did to you. It was wrong to blindside you, but I just couldn’t do it anymore. I was miserable, Christian. I didn’t deal with my parents dying. Not properly at least. And I woke up that day and nothing felt right and I ran. I hurt you by doing it. I hurt my family by doing it. Gia would tell me you’d call and she didn’t know what to say because I didn’t even tell her where I was going or what I was doing. I just left and hurt a lot of people, but I had to do it for me.”
“Well, I’m glad you did it for you, Dalton," I went to push past him, but he stood his ground. “Move.”
“I never stopped loving you, Christian.”
“Don’t you dare say that.”
Those words hit me to my core. Throughout everything, the tiniest part of myself felt the same way. Despite spending time alone and having Nicolas come into my life, there was this small part of me that never stopped loving him. A part of me that thought about what if. What if he came to Columbia one day and surprised me. What if he called me and apologized. What if, somehow, it went back to the way it was. I’d be at my happiest with Nicolas and that tiny part would claw its way up to my brain and remind me that I still loved him. That I still would be with him. That despite what he did to me, I would do it all again.
“Don’t you fuckin’ say that.”
“I love you, Christian.”
We looked at each other. The world around me started to fade. He leaned in towards me.
“Dalton,” I put my hand on his chest, but found myself leaning into him.
“Christian.”
I could feel his breath on my face. He dropped his forehead into mine and I closed my eyes. It took me back to when we were together. It reminded me of how good it felt. How good we were. How good it seemed. And despite everything, despite my better judgement, I pressed my lips against his. My arms wrapped around his neck, his around the waist.
“Dalton,” I said into him. “I have a boyfriend.”
“I’m sorry,” his hands held my jaw with his thumbs caressing my cheeks. “I’m sorry.”
I exhaled, looking into his eyes, our foreheads still pressed together, “Why now?”
“I don’t know,” his thumbs lightly stroked below my eyes.
“Why after all this time?”
“I don’t know.”
“Christian?”
“Shit!” I snapped out of whatever this was. “That’s my boyfriend.”
He went to peer around the tree, but I grabbed the back of his head to keep him hidden.
“We can’t do this again, Dalton. We shouldn’t have done this in the first place.”
“I---I’m sorry.”
I grabbed my phone out of my pocket and pressed it to my ear. I stepped out from behind the wide oak and held up a finger in his direction.
“Please, please, Dalton, wait until we’re turned around before you take a step. If you really love me, please don’t ruin this.”
“Of course,” he smiled but I knew it was fake. “I don’t want to get in the way of the two of you. I shouldn’t have kissed you.”
“I’m just as guilty,” I reassured him, not sure why.
“Go,” he did another fake smile. “Congratulations on your brother graduating.”
“You too for your niece,” I looked at him one more time. “Goodbye, Dalton.”
I stepped back out from behind the tree and pretended to hang up my phone. Nicolas waited for me and I instantly felt awful. Seeing him just made me feel like the absolute worst kind of person. Being secretive, kissing my ex—it wasn’t who I was. It wasn’t who Nicolas knew. And it hit me like a train that it’s possible for a person to not know what’s really going on with you. That it’s possible for someone to not even know what’s going on with themselves. And that’s when I started to feel bad for Dalton. And that’s when I knew just how fucked I really was.
“What was that?”
He gave me a peck on my lips. Something that meant nothing moments ago, but now filled me with dread and disgust.
“Oh, nothing important,” I lied. “Let’s get going.”
“Good, I’m starving,” he grabbed my hand. “Your family’s ready to go to lunch.”
I smiled at him as we walked. I felt like I was being watched and despite knowing not to turn around, I did. And he was just standing there, against that oak, watching. And in that moment, I knew just how fucked I really was.
Dorming with Dalton: Chapter Sixteen
Six Years Later
It felt weird being back here. I left Connecticut without any intention to come back. I transferred to Columbia after my second year because there was just too much here. Too many memories, good and bad. Everyone thought I was crazy to leave Yale. My advisor tried to stop me with the knowledge of losing some credits, but it was something I just had to do.
I’m breaking up with you, Christian.
Those words still haunt me to this day. Nothing was wrong. Nothing. And it was like I lost a part of myself. I fell for him faster than I should have. He fell for me faster than he wanted. And with everything that happened between us, it seemed like we were meant to be. Destined, even. But that random Tuesday over winter break, he uttered those words and told me he needed to set me free. But what did free even mean. How could freedom hurt so much. How could setting me free make me flee like a wounded dog. He told me he felt like he was smothering me. That there was so much I needed to experience and see and do that he didn’t want to keep me from. And even with tears and choked pleas for him to not do this, he still left.
I almost didn’t go back for my spring semester. I planned to stay home and take time off to deal with the devastation he left me with, but my sister didn’t let me. She rallied behind me, told me to not let some guy control me that much. But Dalton wasn’t just some guy. It just wasn’t some relationship. I felt bonded to him, like we were supposed to go through life together. I wanted to go through life together with him and I think he did, too, but after he blindsided me, he ignored me. He didn’t pick up my calls. He didn’t answer any of my texts. His sister avoided me until she eventually told me that he’s off the radar. That even she can’t get ahold of him. I started to think maybe I was the cause. Maybe I ruined him. Maybe he wasn’t ready to be out and I forced him. Maybe I scared him away.
It wasn’t easy dealing with it, but I managed to go back and get my transfer application in and do meetings and phone calls to set it all up. I left Connecticut that May. I left everyone behind. I just couldn’t do it. I couldn’t stay in touch with anyone. And maybe that made me just as bad as him, but I just couldn’t do it. I moved home, back into my old room, and did two summer sessions to get back on track. I wanted to die, but I did it. I reconnected with high school friends. I spent weekends with them, reminiscing, growing closer through college struggles. They helped me through it. They were my crutch when I couldn’t stand on my own. And slowly, it didn’t hurt as much. I’d miss him when I’d lie awake at night or was drunk, but it began to pass. He started to become a memory.
Eventually, I dated and hooked up. I put myself out there again. I kept my distance from everyone. I had trust issues because of him. He was someone I shared everything with, someone who took care of me, and he left me on a random Tuesday. I didn’t want to get close to anybody again. I didn’t want to open like that to potentially be destroyed from the inside out. He damaged me and it felt almost beyond repair until I met Nicolas in my first class of that fall semester. He was shy and quiet and wore a turtleneck. He had glasses and short curly hair. He spoke eloquently when answering questions and his voice was warm. We’d steal glances at each other until he started to smile at me when he’d catch me. Over the course of that semester, we’d start sitting closer to each other, stealing glances, sharing smirks, until I finally introduced myself one day after class.
“I’m Christian,” I finally said.
“I know,” he smiled at me. “Nicolas,” his Greek accent more prominent.
“How are you liking the class?” I matched his stride so we were shoulder to shoulder on the snowy sidewalk.
“The professor’s a bore,” he smiled again. “It’s given me time to find more appealing things.”
My cheeks blushed for the first time in a while.
“Do you want to get a coffee with me?”
“I would,” he slightly leaned into my shoulder.
“Okay,” I laughed to myself. “Okay.”
It was easy with Nicolas. He was light and full of life and positivity. We’d walk through the park after classes and he’d tell me all the things he loved about the city and then tell me all the things he loved about Greece. He’d read me his favorite poetry and I’d have to keep myself from drooling at his accent. He finally kissed me one day in the middle of our coffee shop and for a moment I wanted to push him away, but I sank into it instead. He smiled and grabbed my hand and I just let him. It felt right. For the first time in about a year, something felt right again. I eventually told him about Dalton, told him about my time at Yale. How it was a whirlwind romance, how I met his family, was included in all parts of his life. And him mine. I told him about the attack and how I moved in with him shortly after that. And I finally told him about that Tuesday and how it made me come back to New York and why I’m nervous about this. And he understood. He kissed me and understood. He took my hand and told me he understood.
We took our time with our relationship. We went on stupid dates. We went to open mics at little divey places he somehow knew about. We’d go to museums and shows and just spends nights walking around the city that never sleeps. I introduced him to my family the following spring and I guess that’s when we became serious. He brought me to an aunt’s house in Queens and despite the fear that they wouldn’t accept this kind of relationship, they were nothing but warm. We started going there on Sundays for family dinner where they’d fill my plate whenever it had space.
We got an apartment together our senior year. We graduated together. Our families had a party for us together. We helped each other get jobs. We helped each other pick out clothes our first day. We started to vacation together when we both had real jobs and could start to enjoy life. Holidays, birthdays, family events--we were entwined in each other’s lives and it was easy. We even went to Greece the next summer after graduation when we had enough money saved for airfare and I met his parents and siblings and cousins. It was a beautiful relationship that made me feel loved, safe, and valued. It was everything I wanted with Dalton, except Nicolas would never hurt me like he did. Nicolas made me almost forget everything with Dalton. He eased all the pain that Dalton caused. I loved him.
I asked him to come to my brother graduation and it was a no brainer for him. He kissed me and wrapped his arms around me and told me he wouldn’t be anywhere else. He got along with my brother better than I did. The two of them texted all the time and whenever Mike was home, they’d hangout without me. It was everything I could have hoped for. It was everything I hoped for. Having him at Yale by my side made it bearable. He checked on me the entire drive up and didn’t let go of my hand once when we got out of the car. Even in the sweltering heat that made our hands clammy, he didn’t let go. The only time we broke contact was when my brother walked across the stage and we clapped. We waited in a sea of people still holding hands until my brother found us and they went off together to do God knows what. My parents were happily having a moment together while my sister and her fiancé fanned each other with pamphlets.
“Christian?”
A chill went through my spine. That voice. That voice couldn’t be his. He couldn’t be here. I reluctantly turned around, white in the face.
“No.”
“Christian, please.”
“No,” I said with a knot in my throat. “Why are you here?”
“My niece graduated.”
“Why are you here?”
“I just told you,” he laughed and it brought me right back to six years ago.
“No, why are you right here?” I choked. “Why am I looking at you?”
“I heard the last name. I didn’t think anything of it, but then I saw you,” he exhaled. “Well, I thought it was you, but then thought it was my imagination. I was leaving, but then I really saw it was you. I don’t know why, but I had to come see you.”
“You didn’t. You have no right to come see me.”
“Christian, ple-“
“No! You left me,” I jabbed my finger into my chest. “You left me,” my voice wavered. “You don’t get to show up now and be the good guy. You don’t get to do anything because you left me.”
“I’m sorry.”
“You’re sorry!” I laughed. “That’s it? You’re sorry. Well, Dalton, that’s not enough. You don’t get to be sorry.”
I turned to walk away and took three steps. I stopped with his glare on the back of my head and spun on my heels.
“I loved you, you know.”
“I know.”
“And I guess you didn’t love me.”
“That’s not it, Christian.”
“It has to be it!” the crowd around us started to thin out. I grabbed him by his jacket and led him to a tree where we could hide from my family. “What other reason could there be?”
“I did it because I loved you.”
“Oh, bullshit, Dalton!”
“See, you’ve grown.”
“What?” disgust dripped from my tongue.
“You grew. You found your feet. I smothered you, Christian.”
“You didn’t smoth-“
“I did,” he looked at me with honest eyes. “You were eighteen and I was twenty-three. I wasn’t out. I wasn’t who I needed to be.”
“None of us were!”
“I didn’t leave you because I didn’t love you. I didn’t love me, Christian. I became this person after my parents died that I woke up one day and didn’t like. And you fell for me and I was glad you did because I didn’t think anybody could,” he smiled. “I woke up one day and didn’t recognize the person in the mirror. And it was wrong to do what I did to you. It was wrong to blindside you, but I just couldn’t do it anymore. I was miserable, Christian. I didn’t deal with my parents dying. Not properly at least. And I woke up that day and nothing felt right and I ran. I hurt you by doing it. I hurt my family by doing it. Gia would tell me you’d call and she didn’t know what to say because I didn’t even tell her where I was going or what I was doing. I just left and hurt a lot of people, but I had to do it for me.”
“Well, I’m glad you did it for you, Dalton," I went to push past him, but he stood his ground. “Move.”
“I never stopped loving you, Christian.”
“Don’t you dare say that.”
Those words hit me to my core. Throughout everything, the tiniest part of myself felt the same way. Despite spending time alone and having Nicolas come into my life, there was this small part of me that never stopped loving him. A part of me that thought about what if. What if he came to Columbia one day and surprised me. What if he called me and apologized. What if, somehow, it went back to the way it was. I’d be at my happiest with Nicolas and that tiny part would claw its way up to my brain and remind me that I still loved him. That I still would be with him. That despite what he did to me, I would do it all again.
“Don’t you fuckin’ say that.”
“I love you, Christian.”
We looked at each other. The world around me started to fade. He leaned in towards me.
“Dalton,” I put my hand on his chest, but found myself leaning into him.
“Christian.”
I could feel his breath on my face. He dropped his forehead into mine and I closed my eyes. It took me back to when we were together. It reminded me of how good it felt. How good we were. How good it seemed. And despite everything, despite my better judgement, I pressed my lips against his. My arms wrapped around his neck, his around the waist.
“Dalton,” I said into him. “I have a boyfriend.”
“I’m sorry,” his hands held my jaw with his thumbs caressing my cheeks. “I’m sorry.”
I exhaled, looking into his eyes, our foreheads still pressed together, “Why now?”
“I don’t know,” his thumbs lightly stroked below my eyes.
“Why after all this time?”
“I don’t know.”
“Christian?”
“Shit!” I snapped out of whatever this was. “That’s my boyfriend.”
He went to peer around the tree, but I grabbed the back of his head to keep him hidden.
“We can’t do this again, Dalton. We shouldn’t have done this in the first place.”
“I---I’m sorry.”
I grabbed my phone out of my pocket and pressed it to my ear. I stepped out from behind the wide oak and held up a finger in his direction.
“Please, please, Dalton, wait until we’re turned around before you take a step. If you really love me, please don’t ruin this.”
“Of course,” he smiled but I knew it was fake. “I don’t want to get in the way of the two of you. I shouldn’t have kissed you.”
“I’m just as guilty,” I reassured him, not sure why.
“Go,” he did another fake smile. “Congratulations on your brother graduating.”
“You too for your niece,” I looked at him one more time. “Goodbye, Dalton.”
I stepped back out from behind the tree and pretended to hang up my phone. Nicolas waited for me and I instantly felt awful. Seeing him just made me feel like the absolute worst kind of person. Being secretive, kissing my ex—it wasn’t who I was. It wasn’t who Nicolas knew. And it hit me like a train that it’s possible for a person to not know what’s really going on with you. That it’s possible for someone to not even know what’s going on with themselves. And that’s when I started to feel bad for Dalton. And that’s when I knew just how fucked I really was.
“What was that?”
He gave me a peck on my lips. Something that meant nothing moments ago, but now filled me with dread and disgust.
“Oh, nothing important,” I lied. “Let’s get going.”
“Good, I’m starving,” he grabbed my hand. “Your family’s ready to go to lunch.”
I smiled at him as we walked. I felt like I was being watched and despite knowing not to turn around, I did. And he was just standing there, against that oak, watching. And in that moment, I knew just how fucked I really was.
Last edited:
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Reed bud!
AWESOME to hear from YOU! And, WOW!, what an amazing, and powerful, continuation/revival of this story! Really incredible! THANK YOU!
Yeah. Time moves on, and things change, but not the really deep things. Nothing will ever be the same, but there are those anchors/boulders/rocks. What we do with them, when we rediscover them, is always a quandary. Sometimes we don't feel like we have choices, when we actually do, but don't know what we can, or should, do about them. I can attest to that from experience. And, I guess I'll never really know, for sure, if I was right. Sometimes there is a cliff edge around that next corner that we don't see coming.
I'm really happy you're back to writing 'here'.
Chaz
AWESOME to hear from YOU! And, WOW!, what an amazing, and powerful, continuation/revival of this story! Really incredible! THANK YOU!
Yeah. Time moves on, and things change, but not the really deep things. Nothing will ever be the same, but there are those anchors/boulders/rocks. What we do with them, when we rediscover them, is always a quandary. Sometimes we don't feel like we have choices, when we actually do, but don't know what we can, or should, do about them. I can attest to that from experience. And, I guess I'll never really know, for sure, if I was right. Sometimes there is a cliff edge around that next corner that we don't see coming.
I'm really happy you're back to writing 'here'.
Chaz
