Once I was invited to a friends house because he wanted to talk about his recent breakup with his girlfriend/fiance; he loved her, she used him, cheated, he was depressed and though I was an intelligent rational being who he could confide in. I was once a good listener as well. After a couple hours of his ranting, I asked why he called me of all people. Because I knew of his relationship, and I was good looking, grade A rebounder meat. I wasn't flattered, at all, however I stayed the night out of sheer curiosity, never having been in this predicament before. I did not have sex with him. I could barely kiss him. Why? This was someone I looked up to, closely idolized, and I watched him as he reduced to a fiending beast. I watched him jerk off because I wouldn't touch him. And I still pity him despite how vile he now is in my mind.

Why do I bring this up; every time I make tea, I'm reminded of that night. Also of the men I did this to. Before California I was a wreck... coming back... here now... I am righting myself, and my bubbled universe is expanding beyond my impulses. That's all I'm saying for tonight. Anyone who knows this person will never be told this story or his name.