Feeling vulnerable with everything going on with Dante, I agreed to spend some time with The Mistake recently. It was easy to slip back into our usual flow. It was as if several months haven't passed since last we've seen one another. It was reminiscent of a time we couldn't go a day without seeing one another. That lasted almost eight years with the last two of them living together. We were oddly compatible. Our personalities complimented and meshed with each other so well. It was as if we were on the same brain frequency. We would finish each other's sentences and even randomly say things at the same time. We just picked up where we left off.
There was a time I considered this man my lover, my brother, my best friend, my everything. He was my soul mate. It's unfortunate when your soul mate finds theirs in someone other than you.
We caught up with one another's lives, asked about each other's families, we even discussed our issues with Dante and The Retard. I couldn't help but notice how easy it was to talk about our relationships. I stopped myself from smiling when he referred to The Retard as a "goofy looking mother fucker" when he was telling me about ye with only one working ear going through his phone and getting angry about the numbers he doesn't recognize. The Mistake was also getting annoyed at the incessant texts from the tailed bastard (think Shallow Hal needs a gal, people) trying to create an argument in a transparent attempt to divert his attention back to himself. Guess there honey moon's been looong over. On one of the last occasions The Mistake and I spent time together months ago, the little retard that could was upset he wasn't able to lure him away from me. The next morning The Mistake gave me a ride to work and received a picture message from a friend of The Retard's. Guess since he was pissed off his boyfriend was spending the night with me, he decided to get a blow job from some guy who's been sniffing around his cock for awhile. His friend snapped a picture of the act and sent it to The Mistake. What a pal, huh?
"You don't have to worry about him anymore. It's over," he told me for the second time and I wondered who he was lying to more. Me or himself? By the time I was out of work that afternoon they had already made up. Control by threat of infidelity. Who's weak enough to fall for that? Minus 50 cool points. Then again how many get out of jail free cards has The Retard racked up by now? He's been cheated on with myself alone more times than we can count on both hands. I couldn't even tell you the times with others. The Mistake is smarter than to trust me with that kind of information. Especially since the last time he tried to force this idea of all of us being friends after everything that's happened on me. I ended that idea when I instructed The Retard to ask his boyfriend when the last time we fucked was. I wondered aloud if he would tell him the truth. The night before New Year's Eve, the weekend before. That must have been an awkward ride home.
But I let go of all that anger. I don't hold any ill will towards anyone. But it's like I said. I'm not a phony person. I'm not gonna smile in his face and pretend to be his friend. There's been way too much negativity for that. We spent almost four days together, hanging out, like old times. It was a little odd when he rested his head against the pillow next to mine in bed at his house. We've been usually going for the safer, head to toe configuration. But we were good. We stayed on our own sides of the bed. But the other night on my couch we fell asleep with me holding him. ... Nothing much happened. Much. We did both cum.
He told me he wants to meet Dante. I'm not sure how I feel about that yet.