Saturday, May 7, 2011
How I Met Him
You do not know that I am married. I do not tell you I am married because I know you will not stay in a relationship with me. I no longer want to be married. I am 33. I am finally able to admit what I think I’ve always known to be true – I am gay, and while I love my wife, she and I are no longer in love. I met you one night in January in order to have sex. We did not have sex that first night. My choice. I wanted a second date, which turned into a third date, which turned into having keys to your apartment and introducing you to my son and telling you that one day he will be your son too.
I have fallen in love with you. We have already started drawing imaginary blueprints for the house we will one day have. A backyard for the kids. A fire escape, because you like fire escapes. You say you want a garden.
I do not have a green thumb, I say.
I do, you say, and I know you do. Your occasional attempts at husbandry – at tending to tomatoes until we can eat them, for example, or nurturing plants in your office – indicate, to me, your inherent belief in the future. We talk about the future, using when, never if. I cannot always see this future unfolding. You do not know how much tending to I need.
We met because our separate roads converged on a night in January, merged, and then diverged, finally, permanently, nine months, two weeks, and one day later. We met because we did. We met because we couldn’t not meet.
William Henderson has written for local and national newspapers and magazines, including the Advocate, the Boston Globe, the Seattle Post-Intelligencer, Dr. Hurley’s Snake-Oil Cure, Euonia Review (forthcoming in June 2011), and the New England Blade (formerly In Newsweekly), where he served as editor. He earned a Bachelor of Science in Journalism & Communications from the University of Florida, and a Master’s in Fine Arts from Emerson College, where he studied creative non-fiction. He earned a Hearst Award in profile writing in 1998. Currently, he works as a freelance writer, editor, and copyeditor, and is a full-time father to his children, Avery and Aurora. “How we met …” is part of an in-progress memoir, House of Cards. He can be reached at firstname.lastname@example.org or on Twitter, @Avesdad.