... this week I called up the man who was to become my partner of almost two decades and asked if I could stay at his house the first week of January, just after the new year.
I was a junior in college and had been taking a documentary photography course at a sort of old-hippie commune and needed to show them my photographs at their annual meeting. I felt so daring! He was strange and wonderful and I wanted to be naked with him. He agreed to let me stay, and said that I could pick up a key which he would leave at the music library. He also said that he wouldn't be there, that he would be spending the holidays with his family.
Darn. Better luck next time, huh?
But we eventually got together when he came home again, creating the ritual of having breakfast a few times a week, and ... well ... the rest is history. He was my first, my Great Love, and a fantastic teacher of the sexual and sensual arts. He's still a Great Love, but also now a Great Friend with History behind us. Without him my life would have had a different arc indeed.
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