Date: Wed, 20 Oct 2004 16:48:53 -0600
From: ????? ????? <nudskier@hotmail.com>
Subject: What Might Have Been

Disclaimer:  This is a true story.  The names are real but there is no other
identifying information.  Comments are welcome at nudskier@hotmail.com


			   What Might Have Been


Damn!  There he was again.  Every time I looked in that direction he seemed
to be looking at me.  This had gone on for three songs now.  Could he really
be interested in me?

It was mid December 1993 and I was in NYC for a convention.  The graduate
program agreed to pay my hotel bills so I could attend.  I had arrived
earlier that day from Dallas, checked into my hotel, grabbed a quick bite to
eat at the neighborhood deli then headed over to Times Square and the half
price ticket booth.  After waiting in line forever I grabbed a ticket for
"Forever Plaid".  I had no idea what the show was about, but it was a
musical with 4 guys in it.  Nothing to complain about there.

I loved the show!  The music was fun and the guys were gorgeous.  Now it was
my turn to sing.  I headed down to the Village and the piano bars where I
could sing the night away.  There was nothing like this in my hometown (I
moved to Dallas to attend Graduate School) and I wanted to make the most of
it.

After about an hour of singing I noticed a good looking guy about my age.  I
won't lie and say that he was model material, nor did he have a huge bulge
in his pants suggesting a big dick.  However, he was smartly dressed in
pressed kakis and a green sweater.  We made eye contact but the crowd was
too thick to get any closer.  Over the course of the next 30 minutes I
managed to catch him looking at me numerous times.  Being the shy type I
couldn't muster the courage to approach him.  Why would he be interested in
me?  I'm really nothing special.

I guess this is the part where I describe myself.  I am 5"9', 155#, green
eyes and brown hair (however now the color comes out of a bottle).  I'm not
really buff but I do keep myself in shape and would be considered toned.
I've never had love handles to worry about.  While not ugly, I've never
considered myself to be very good looking; just not too hard on the eyes.

Suddenly he is standing beside me.  I can smell his cologne and hear his
baritone voice as he sings along to Miss Saigon.  When I look over he is
smiling.  The smile lights up his face.

"Hi!  I'm Todd.  You've got a beautiful voice," he says when the song
finally ends.  "I haven't seen you in here before."

"I'm from out of town," I reply.  "But I make sure to come here every time
I'm in New York.  I love to sing show tunes and this is one of the best
places in the city I know to do that sort of thing."

Even 11 years later I can still see his smile and those deep brown eyes.
Eyes I could drown in.  Todd was a bit taller than me, a bit heavier (but
not fat by any means) and had the most amazing smile.  I found out he was a
couple of years younger than me, had majored in broadcast journalism and was
trying to get on with a TV station to cover the theatre beat.  He was a
bigger theatre junkie than me!

I can't recall the rest of the night at the bar.  Only that we sang, talked,
re-filled our drinks, and sang some more.  Finally, at 2:00am we both
realized we had responsibilities in the morning and decided to call it a
night.  As we left the bar, Todd turned towards me; the sexual tension was
like an electric current.  He said, "I'm not ready to say goodbye or good
night."

"I'm not either," I replied.

"Would you like to come back to my apartment"  It's in Queens and will take
us about an hour to get there."  Hey, I get to talk/be with this guy for
another hour.  Yippee!  We held hands on the subway as we made our way to
his place.  It felt so right.  Once we arrived, we did not devour each
other.  Hey this is real life, not fiction.  However, we did share our first
kiss.  It was soft, sweet and passionate.  Our mouths felt like they had
been molded for each other.  When we finally broke he had literally taken my
breath away.  I've read about that happening in fuck magazines and seen it
in movies (straight ones of course).  I've even had friends tell me it
happened when they kissed their wife.  But this was the first time in my
life that I had experienced it.

Even though it was late and we were tired we made love for over an hour.  It
alternated between passionate and slow to heated and frantic.  In the end,
we fell asleep in each others embrace.

A few hours later we awoke surprisingly refreshed.  Todd asked me to move in
with him for the week I was in NYC but I declined.  You see, I had a secret
and if I told him I would lose him forever.  However, we did agree to meet
for dinner that evening.

We ate at a place just off Rockefeller Plaza.  Afterwards, we wandered
around NYC enjoying each others company while looking at all the Christmas
decorations.  A light snow was drifting down on us wrapping us in quiet and.
Again we returned to Todd's apartment where we spent the night in each
others arms.

That night we fucked.  Each being top and each being bottom.  I can't
describe the exquisite sensations of feeling his warm skin next to mine from
head to toe.  I had been with other men before, but it was sport fucking.
THIS was making love.  And I was falling in love with this man fast.  He had
captured my heart which I had kept locked away for so many years.

In the morning he again asked me to move in with him.  This time I accepted.
I was deliriously happy.  The rest of the day floated by.  I stopped by my
hotel and checked out.  This was all well and good because the school was
only going to pay for two nights anyway.  I quickly packed all my stuff
together and met Todd at Bennigan's on Times Square.  Neither one of us
could stop smiling or laughing the whole meal.

The rest of the week was bliss.  One night he had to work late so I cooked
dinner for us.  As he entered the apartment he could smell the steaks
broiling and the veggies cooking.  He was about to add some seasoning to the
meat when I stopped him.  I told him I had already used that seasoning.  He
was amazed.  Turns out that we liked the same seasonings on our steaks.
There were so many other things we had in common it was almost scary.  The
only thing that dimmed the radiance I felt was my secret which I knew I
would have to tell him at sometime.  But not now.  Not yet.

Our last night together we exchanged Christmas presents.  Since he worked in
a record store he got me a bunch of CDs.  There were Broadway soundtracks
and my two favorite female vocalists (at the time):  Barbra Streisand and
Dionne Warwick.

At this point I just broke down and cried.  He knew me so well.  What I
liked, what I didn't like.  What made me happy, what made me sad.  How to
build a fire of passion so strong I was afraid it would consume me.  And
then I had to tell him my secret.

I am married.  To a woman.  We had just past our 5 year anniversary a month
previous.  Oh how I hated saying those words to him.  We held each other and
both cried.  That night when we made love I knew it was for the last time.
I poured all my love and heart into it.

The next morning we said our goodbyes.  The weather matched my mood:  cold,
wet, dismal.  I cried in the cab all the way to the airport.

It was just days before Christmas when I got home.  We planned on spending
the holidays at Park City.  It was supposed to be wonderful.  I was
miserable.  My wife knew something was wrong when for the first time in my
life I could not perform in bed.  She didn't say anything, just knew
something wasn't quite right.

The first chance I got I found a pay phone and called Todd.  I just got his
answering machine.  I was crying so hard, long, deep, wracking sobs that I
could barely get a message out.  Oh, how I missed him.

Over the next 6 months we corresponded by postcards, letters and tapes.
Also, my phone bill was astronomical!  This was in the days before the
internet and email.  However, time and distance eventually took its toll.
By August of the next year I had lost track of him.

Its now 11 years later.  I still think of him.  I still miss him.  I am
still married and have two beautiful children: 9 and 5.  Did I make the
right decision?  I don't know.  I do know that I lost my soul-mate, my one
true love.  I love my family.  I do not regret the experience of being a
father or a husband.  These have been challenging but good years.

There are those who will condemn me.  There are those who will say I did the
right thing.  I'm not looking for either.  But I know there are others who
are in my same situation and maybe knowing my story they won't feel quite so
alone.

Todd, I hope you are happy.  I hope you are well.  I hope you have found
someone to share your life with who treats you the way you should be
treated.  And if you ever read this, know that I still love you.