हैप्पी Anniversary

His name is John Niko but I just call him Niko. And he’s my Niko. He will kill me when I get home for exposing him to you but that’s a risk I will have to take. You’ll understand why by the time you get to the end; assuming you stick through until then.

We met 12 years ago in Fort Lauderdale at, believe it or not, a leather bar. I still have the little gray “Trick” card the bars supplied back then where you write your name and phone number to exchange with . . . well, your latest trick! I carry that card with me to this day. It’s in my wallet warding off evil the way religious people carry cards with the Virgin Mary or Jesus Christ hanging on the cross for protection.

The night Niko and I met, I was a little depressed. Well, a little depressed, lonely and horny.

I had just gotten back to Fort Lauderdale from visiting my family in New York. My baby sister graduated College and it was a proud moment in our family. I was the first in our family to attend college but she was the first to actually finish. As I sat in the auditorium I remember thinking how wonderful graduations were. A perfect way to end a chapter in your life; a transition into another volume of the Encyclopedia of The Living Experience. I also realized that graduations weren’t just for the people who completed their education but for the families, friends and other loved ones who endured and supported that person while they went to school to get that little piece of paper we all place such value on.

Anyway, Manhattan was in full bloom that June. It was a city on top of the world. A city in love with joy, with freedom, with love itself. Hell, the city was even in love WITH itself; and I’m not talking the narcissistic type. It was a kind of love that was full of innocence and passion and totally into experiencing new things. It was a perfectly euphoric trip to sooth and embalm me in those emotions; especially after having ended a four-year, verbally and emotionally abusive relationship just a year prior.

On the flight back down my heart ached to the point I truly thought it would break. The little voice inside my head was screaming: WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING? WHY ARE YOU LEAVING? WHAT ARE YOU GOING BACK FOR?

“A job,” I thought weakly.

“A JOB!” the voice yelled, “NOT A CAREER! NOT YOUR LIFEWORK! YOU CAN ALWAYS GET ANOTHER ONE!!!!”

“My cat,” I retaliated defensively. “My things,” I added.

“SO YOU SHOVE HIM IN A BOX, PACK THE THINGS YOU WANT, SELL WHAT YOU DON’T NEED AND SHOVE OFF.”

“But I just signed a lease.”

“SO YOU BREAK IT! IF YOU TELL THEM YOU GOT A JOB OFFER OUT OF STATE THEY CAN’T HOLD YOU TO IT!”

“My car?” I started wondering. “What am I going to do with my car in NYC? Insurance is so high!”

“SELL IT!”

You get the picture. By the time I landed in Lauderdale that fateful night a dozen years ago, I had made the decision to come back to New York. I had not told anyone but my heart. I got to my apartment, unpacked and started to make a list of the things I needed to do in order to move back home. I was all set and prepared for my move back to New York. All I had to do was give notice at work, inform my landlady and start packing!

But as the evening wore on, I started to get lonely. And horny.

Forgive me for not endowing you with the details of the hookup that followed. As much as I would love to, FOR SURE, I know Niko would kill me.

So we dated. Several times. Minutes turned into hours. Hours into days. And days turned into years. Twelve years. That’s like 90 in Gay Years; you know, like Dog Years?

I wasn’t sure about him at first. He’s totally not what I normally went for back then. He wasn’t really into many of the things that I was into. I mean he didn’t even like coffee! Still doesn’t!!!!!! We were opposites; still are.

I warned him time and time again. I told him of the things I had done and apologized ahead of time for all the things I was going to do to him and put him through.

And yet he stayed.

Fast forward past 12 years of heartache and sorrow, seeing each other at our best, supporting each other through our worst; past all the friends and family who have died or moved away. Vacations together, weddings attended, sexual fantasies explored and that we are still exploring. Colds swapped back and forth, depressions, joys, dreams talked about, conversations we’ve had, dinners out alone or with friends, the beach, drinks, 3ways, 4ways and Moreways. The mundane, routine and ordinary as well as the fun and exciting things we've done.

And I still, after all these years, love him. In fact, I love him even more now than I did when we first met. Hell, I'd ask him to marry me if I believed in marriage.

He’s childish, he makes me laugh and makes me feel good even when we’re doing nothing; which sometimes there is plenty of. I can be myself with him and there isn’t much I couldn’t tell him. Almost anything I want to do, he’ll do with me. He has the soul of a curious child and the patience of a saint to put up with me and my insanity.

I know my mom has needed me as she prepares for a mastectomy. I do not regret for one single moment my decision to fly up here and stay with her for six weeks. Well, maybe there was that one frustrating night in the previous blog.

But I miss my Niko.

I text him constantly. Repeatedly, in fact. I’ve spoken to him every single day; sometimes several times throughout the day! I love hearing the sound of his voice but it's no replacement for being with him. Nothing beats having him in my arms at night, spooning behind him. That’s when I miss him the most because he helps keep the monsters under the bed at bay. Even when he’s sweating like a pig and I’m comfortably tucked under the blanket, we sleep butt-to-butt, the heels of our feet barely touching. It’s just enough comfort to know that nothing will happen to us that night. We will make through another day.

For the first three weeks I was here, I felt myself slowly gravitating in a dark direction. Not quite sure where or how. I only know that I was losing my center and my balance. And when, a little over a week ago, I left work to meet him at the airport, I knew exactly. I felt like a satellite that had lost it’s orbit and he realigned me. My life revolves around him, you see. He is everything to me and I cannot see myself with anyone else or even without him. He is the anchor that stabilizes me, the glue that pieces back together my scattered brain.

We spent 3 glorious days together when he came to visit me. We walked around Manhattan, shopped, ate at some cool, funky places in the East and West Village. We walked some more, took in a Broadway show: Young Frankenstein (which was awesome!!!) had dinner with my mom (who calls him her son).

But the best was the Saturday before he left to go back to our house, our pugs (Emma, Trinket and Googie) and our cats (Max and Wild Thing). Niko and I sat on a concrete wall on the pier along the West Side Highway. And we did something we had never done before, something I had always wanted. He gave me a kiss. In public. It wasn’t the kiss to end all kisses nor was it filled with burning passion as it once was. But it was the first time he had ever shown me any kind of public affection. We held hands, my head resting on his shoulder, his head resting against mine. And I cried. I didn’t want the moment to end. It was the single most perfect moment in all of my almost 46 years of existence.

For that, and for many other reasons (some listed here, some not) I will love him and be IN love with him until the day I die; which I hope will be with him, together, holding hands, in bed.

My desire my stray, I may look at other menus and sample many appetizers, but it is to you I will always return to.

And as Frodo Baggins once said to Samwise Gamgee (please forgive my paraphrasing as I do not have the book with me and cannot remember the exact words): “Gandalf has chosen a perfect companion for me. Come, let us see what adventures the road holds for us!”

My dearest Niko, if you are reading this right now, I sincerely hope you know how much I love you and need you. I don’t care how you look, or how much weight you think you may have gained or how . . . anything. It's all bullshit. Because the only that matters to me is that I love you, I need you, I desire you. And that you love me, too. Stay with me always you dumb little shit because if you don’t I’ll hunt you down and slap your sorry ass! Oh, wait, I think I hear the patter of feet receding in the distance. Damnit! Now I'm going to have to chase you!

Seriously, though. Happy Anniversary. I am worth much more when I am with you for without you, I am worth nothing.