I’m from the other side of the country, but I’m sitting in my lover’s San Francisco apartment wondering what I’m doing. I flew out here to spend five glorious days with her. We connect sexually (she’s a Dom stone-butch top, I’m a queer femme sub), we connect intellectually, and we make each other laugh. I’m head over heels for her and for this city.
But she’s literally twice my age. In no way does this bother me. She’s handsome and wonderful, and I’m so proud to be with her. But she frets that she’s too old for me and will die before me and it isn’t fair to have the feelings we do.
I can hang on to this ledge, Dan, and not let myself utterly fall for this woman so that she doesn’t break my heart when she says we must part as friends. I think that is what is coming. But I know...