Say Goodbye to Sparkleland

Say Goodbye to Sparkleland Chapter 21

21

"Good afternoon, Mitchell. How are you?"

"I'm okay."

"Last week was fairly intense. How have you processed it all?"

"I saw Cooper."

"You did!?" Logan's eyes were huge. "How – how did it go?"

"Not good, not bad."

"At the office?"

"No. I decided to go to an AA meeting."

Logan was taken aback. "I'm confused. You're not an alcoholic. Unless there's something you're not telling me."

"No. I've been going to The Black Stallion after our sessions recently. While I was there, I got thinking about Cooper's meetings. I only went to a few, but I remembered listening to people get better. It sounds silly, but I thought ... maybe ... maybe if I heard other people whose lives had fallen apart ... and they were getting better ... maybe I would feel better."

"An interesting approach. Did you? Feel better?"

"I think so. I wasn't planning on Cooper seeing me. I sat in the back."

"You knew he was there. You knew that had to be a very real possibility."

"Yes."

"And you were prepared to face him?"

"No. Maybe on some level. We had talked about him at the session last week. Maybe deep down I knew I needed to face him. If I had to. I don't know. I just don't know what words to say to him. But ... just looking at him. I miss that. I miss seeing him. Literally ... seeing."

"You have a lot going on. Do you have a support group? Other than me?"

"Surprisingly, at work, it's women on my floor. Two ladies. They seem to look out for me. But ... it's not like we go out for drinks or anything. I've made two friends at The Black Stallion. But ... not a big support system."

"Family?"

"Mom cares. But it is hard for her to see me sad, so I don't interact with her a lot. Sometimes it's a brave face."

"How much did you and Cooper talk at the meeting?"

"None at the meeting. He saw me leaving and ran out to the parking lot. We talked a little."

"How did it make you feel?"

"Kind of better, kind of worse."

"Elaborate."

"It has been months, so ... he and Larry are still together, so there was a bit of closure knowing those two are still committed to each other. That dug in a bit. But ... I liked seeing him. Yeah, I wrestled with knowing he was no longer mine, but even when we tried last year, it wasn't perfect. We had highs and lows. I just miss him."

"Can you be friends with him? JUST friends?"

"I guess I'm trying to sort that out."

"How did you do it with me?"

I thought. Good question.

"I guess I had other lovers after you. Perhaps that built in some distance ... like a buffer. It's hard to say. You never told me back that you loved me. Maybe that made it easier."

Logan's eyes closed and his face twisted in pain. Hearing me say that hurt him. I knew it did. I hated that it did.

"Well, after Cooper ... other lovers? Or was it just Derek?"

"Uck! Thankfully not." I reached for the book. "One more."

"Tell me who."

"No. 21. Sawyer Madden. Black hair, dark black bush. Chest hair, black. Three inches soft, six inches hard. Thick girth. Uncut. Pre-cum. Thick, white cum. Small balls."

"And to think that is the last genitalia description that I will hear from you."

"You know you will miss them."

"I know I will not. Any other words?"

"French-Canadian. Singer. Cuff links. Appreciative bottom. Shower."

"He was a singer?"

"No. He was a client that had come in from Canada, and-"

"We aren't near an airport. Why Jackson Bend?"

"Real estate. They are looking at acquiring land outside of town. Building a facility."

"A music facility?"

"No. By singer, I meant he sung around me. While fixing dinner. While driving. After we made love."

"Was he singing to you?"

"No. Just singing. I found it charming."

"Okay. Tell me more. If Derek was your previous lover, then ... this had to be a little ... different."

"It was. I was still reeling over losing Cooper, and sleeping with Derek was a disaster. I felt I should at least try. The good thing with Sawyer was I knew he was short-term. There were no expectations of love or a relationship."

"So, what were the two of you after?"

"Company."

Sawyer, Garison and Bernard had asked their final questions. Mr. Fitzhugh had gone to the site with them and met with the landowner. I crunched the numbers and explained the tax structure here in Jackson Bend to them and how their interest and loans would vary with the two projected timelines they inquired about.

Garison and Bernard were brothers. They owned the company. Sawyer was the CFO. Mr. Fitzhugh led the conversation for the most part. I had conveyed my information. I was just there for IT support at that point.

The brothers wore ties. Sawyer was in jeans and a sports coat. He had a few buttons on his long-sleeved, white shirt open. His dark chest hair contrasted magnificently with the cotton fabric. I was hypnotized by the view. I didn't realize I was staring. It took his smile to snap me out of it. He saw me looking at his chest. I made an awkward smile in return, hoping I hadn't done something inappropriate to ruin the account.

Sawyer would look at me. I would look at him. We eventually stopped looking away when the other noticed. We just enjoyed the shared ... "look." And smiled.

Soon we were standing and shaking hands. Our firm's involvement was done for the most part. One of the brothers was returning home to Canada. The other and Sawyer had to stay a few weeks to deal with land issues.

"I'm in town for a little while," Sawyer said, as I escorted him and the brothers to the elevators. Mr. Fitzhugh had the brothers occupied in other talk about the city. "I don't mean to be bold. I don't see a wedding ring. I was wondering if ... you might have a little free time to show me the city."

"Oh. Um. Well, I'm definitely not seeing anyone, so I have a little free time. Would Garison be joining us?"

"If he wants. But he won't. He likes to sit in the hotel rooms and read."

"How about I make a reservation at Basil and Chianti for Thursday evening? It's nice but not overly stuffy."

"Sounds wonderful. I have your business card. I see it has your mobile number on it."

I loved the subtle French accent to his voice. He handed me his card so that we could call each other easily.

We shook hands. There was just a noticeable hold on my hand a second or two longer than one would expect.

I smiled. It was nice to be flirted with, even silently. He liked me. I liked him.

For one day, I didn't think about Derek or Cooper or Santos or anyone else. I did my work with a smile and thought about Sawyer.

I texted him. "I have a reservation for three tomorrow at 7. I hope this time works."

Before I left the building, he replied. "7 o'clock works for both of us."

"He was trapped here in town for work. A new account for us. It was sizable. I received a small bonus. But Sawyer was the real bonus. He was what I needed to distract me from my depression."

"See. It is possible for you to move on."

"He was just temporary. We both knew that going into it."

"I am enjoying dinner very much," Garison said. "Thank you, Mitchell, for making the reservation."

Mr. Fitzhugh had given me a company credit card, so I was going to feel very important paying for dinner.

"I'm glad you like it. Sawyer, and you?"

"Yes. Yes, indeed. I am enjoying my entrée very much."

Our server topped off our three wine glasses.

I was enjoying myself immensely. It was an honest break from guilt, depression and self-hate. I knew these gentlemen would be a temporary intrusion, but I accepted it. It was a glimmer of life I needed.

I felt like I had been promoted when I could place a company card on the bill. Both of them thanked me for paying for the evening. It wasn't a long drive to their hotel. I walked them inside.

"I will bid you adieu for the evening," Garison said. "Thank you again. I'm sure you two will enjoy the remainder of the evening without me."

He stepped toward the elevators. It seemed implied that Sawyer and I would be doing more for the evening.

"What would you like to do?" I asked.

"I'd like you to show me around town," he said.

"Certainly."

"It is chillier though. I feel I should get my coat. Come up to my room a moment."

I followed him. We went up to the fifth floor. Jackson Bend didn't have numerous skyscrapers. This hotel had eight floors. Sawyer's room had a nice view of the town. It was lit up for the night. He could get the feel for Jackson Bend from his window. I pointed out the university and how the college made it a nice big small town. I indicated the courthouse a few blocks away.

"I like this view. I've never seen the city quite like this."

"I'm glad I could show it to you then," Sawyer said.

He placed his coat on the chair and stood behind me.

"It's not as exciting as a larger city, but I like it," I said, still lost in the view.

I felt his arms wrap around me from behind. His chin was at my shoulder. "I like things about it too."

Sawyer was both forward and gentlemanly at the same time.

"Mitchell, may I kiss you?"

I didn't answer. I just moved my lips to his. We kissed a second time.

We smiled at each other. He then picked up his coat. "Shall we?"

Back in my car, I started the engine. "So ... just drive around?"

"Sure. Anywhere is fine."

We drove to some of the nicer neighborhoods. Flurries began to flutter in my headlights.

"Ooo. We may get some snow after all," I said.

"If the report I saw earlier is any indication, no accumulation is expected."

"I assume you get a lot of snow in Canada."

"By your standards, I would assume so. We get about 225 centimeters a year."

I was pissed at myself that I didn't know how much that would be in inches. I just gave the impression I knew. "More than us to be sure."

As we drove from the main areas of downtown to the more commercial streets, Sawyer gasped.

"Ooo. Ice cream. May I treat you, Mitchell? It is my weakness."

"Please, call me Mitch. Sure. We didn't have dessert at the restaurant."

We were the last two customers at Caramel Moo. They locked the doors five minutes after us. The friendly girl that dipped our scoops said we didn't have to rush. They'd clean around us. Sawyer got each of us a double dip. I opted for a cone. He ate his with a spoon out of a cup.

"It's funny how simple things can have such a big impact," I said.

"Tell me what you mean, Mitchell ... Mitch."

"Sometimes things can seem overwhelming, and then something as simple as ice cream can make you stop and appreciate things in life."

"Nice. Very true." He took another spoonful of raspberry cheesecake swirl. "Is life overwhelming you, Mitch?"

Eek. I stepped into that trap.

"At times. I don't care to get into it, but the last few months have had some ... challenges."

"I'm sorry. I'm glad my fondness of ice cream can help you appreciate the good things in life."

"They don't have to be expensive things, do they?" I smiled.

"Not at all," he said, looking into my eyes.

We smiled at each other again.

"I'm grateful for the time you have given me."

"It's my pleasure."

The flurries turned to light flakes, but it was still nothing heavy.

"Is French your first language?" I asked.

"Oui."

"I find it so ... beautiful. It has an elegance and sophistication and touch of romance. When did you learn English?"

"In primary school. By fifth grade, I was fluent in English. I enjoyed watching American television and movies and not needing to read subtitles."

"I wish I could speak another language. America is so big, there isn't a huge need to learn."

"Do you not travel internationally?"

"Oh no. I've never been out of the country. I've ... sadly ... been to only a handful of states. I should travel more than I do."

"You should. You should come see me."

"You don't have anyone back home to go back to?"

"No one serious. I have a few boyfriends ... very casual. My work doesn't allow me to have a lot of social time."

"The brothers are fine with you ... being gay, I assume?"

"I suppose. We've never discussed it. They have just picked up that I am. It is just what it is."

"Say something to me in French."

"Tu es très beau."

"Pretty. What does it mean?"

"It means: You are very handsome."

I could feel my face flushing. I was red and I knew it.

Sawyer and I had finished our ice cream. I wondered if that would be it for the night.

"I suppose they wish to lock up," he said.

We stood and headed toward the door. The counter girl scurried over to the door to unlock it.

"Thanks for coming guys."

"Thank you for not kicking us out." My comment made her giggle. She waved.

"Mitch, does the city have any gay bars?"

"Not a lot, but some. There is Daniel's ... that's just a bar. Indigo is a dance club. The Black Stallion is more country-western."

"Are you up for a drink? My treat. But I don't wish to keep you out late. I'm sure you have things to do."

"I could do a drink."

I drove us to Daniel's. Sawyer looked around. It wasn't fancy, but Daniel's was still nice enough. The rainbow uplighting sending stripes of illuminated color up the walls was kind of nice. The framed posters of handsome men in stages of undress were tasteful but erotic at the same time.

"Is this okay?"

"Certainly. I like it. It has a certain ... je ne sais quoi."

I ordered a pitcher of beer once he said that would be just right. We were bound to be here for a little while.

"We hit it off so well. It was immediate. But ... it was temporary. That first night we just got to know each other."

"In what way?" Logan asked.

"We just talked. Well, we kissed a little. He kissed me goodnight after I showed him some of the city."

I fumbled for my phone. "Here. He took this picture of us at Daniel's that first night we went out."

Logan looked at my phone. "Handsome, for sure."

"I loved his chest."

"Mitch, I had a great time last night. Thank you again."

"I did too," I texted back.

"Would you be willing to take me dancing next week?"

"Would you like to go tomorrow?"

"I hate to manipulate your time."

"I could use the distraction."

"Even though you knew he was in town for only a short time, you two still ..."

"We did. I needed something to take my mind off of Cooper ... and fucking Derek. Brief as it was, Sawyer was a welcome distraction."

"I like this place," Sawyer called out over the music.

It was our third song to dance to. Cooper hadn't been the greatest dancer, so we didn't go to Indigo ... ever. It was a bar too. Granted, we did do a bit of dancing at the beginning of ... us, but I quickly picked up it wasn't his thing. It was nice to be back on the dance floor.

Sawyer had four drinks in him at this point. He was not inhibited whatsoever. His hands were on me numerous times, whether we were sitting with our drinks or gyrating our hips.

"I feel very fortunate our new facility will be in Jackson Bend," he said over a thrumming drumbeat.

"Why so? Other cities are bigger."

"It brought me to you," he smiled. His lips smothered mine.

"I've felt lucky you were here this week too."

We kissed some more. Men danced around us. My hand cupped his ass. His fingers reached for my crotch. He knew I was hard. I had been hard from the moment we stepped on the dancefloor and I watched him move ... like he was performing for me.

"I know I will miss you already," he said.

"How long will you be here?"

"Just over a week. About ten more days."

"I will miss you too." I kissed him again.

We held each other and swayed. It didn't fit the music. But we loved holding each other.

"Would you stay the night in my hotel room?"

"Are you sure? I wouldn't want to ... do this just because you've had a few drinks."

"I'm perfectly fine. I know what I'm asking." He moved his mouth close to my ear. "I crave you like I do ice cream."

"I'm willing to be licked."

He laughed. His head tilted back, and he laughed more. Then he looked at me again and kissed me.

—

"Ohhhh, fuck!" he groaned. My dick was fully inside him. "Mitch – ell! Oh. Oh yes."

I could sense the fragrance of his lubricant. I had smelled vanilla, strawberry and coconut before, but I had never experienced peach. I liked it.

I lightly grunted as my cock thrust into his ass below my crotch. His arms wrapped around his bed pillow. He buried his face into it and groaned with each of my thrusts. I was glad as I didn't want the people in the hotel room next to us to hear us.

It felt good inside him. He was beautiful, a very handsome man. The dark hair on his body was in all the right places. Sawyer just exuded masculinity.

I stayed on my elbows and kept fucking him. His muffled growl let me know he was enjoying it. I needed this. While both of us knew we were just a momentary fling, the enjoyment of male sexual pleasure was something we both desired.

I kept pushing my erection into him. My face hovered over the back of his neck. I knew my breath was causing heat on his skin. Even with only one lamp on, there was enough light to see a glisten on his skin.

"Fuck me. Fuck me, Mitchell. Yes. Please don't stop."

That wasn't anything I would have considered. I wanted to keep fucking him for hours on end. It felt so good for me, and Sawyer was clearly enjoying it.

Even with the peach lubricant teasing my nose, I could still smell the scent of Sawyer. He had a very masculine aroma. A mix of sweat, hair and expensive shower gel — I loved breathing it in. I loved breathing him in.

I kissed the back of his neck and groaned some more. My thrusts were more forceful. I drove my cock as deep as I could.

"Ungh. Ohh. Uhhh." Sawyer moaned into the pillow. He turned his head to the side. "You are magnificent, Mitch. I love how your cock makes me feel."

I pushed harder, and he groaned louder —a little louder than I would have preferred.

"Ohhh, Sawyer, this is so good. I needed you."

"I wanted you all day, Mitch."

"I wanted you too." I kissed his shoulder. I kissed his neck. "I wanted you so bad."

"Keep fucking me."

I knew I couldn't last much longer. We had been going at it for several minutes. My erection was on fire.

I moaned louder than I thought I would be able to. If someone was outside the door, they would have heard me. Fuck it. Who cared? I was fucking an amazing man. A beautiful man. A man who wanted me.

Not like Cooper.

Damn. I didn't need to think of him. Shit. That threw me off.

"Mitch. Yes. Mitch. OOooouuuunh. Unhh!"

That brought me back into the moment.

"Sawyer. Yeah. Yeah. Yeah. I'm so close."

"That's it, man. Do it. Do it. Come for me."

I was almost at the edge. It was building. I could pull out and maybe stop and prolong our lovemaking, but ... too late.

"UNGHH!" I screamed (foolishly). "Arrhh! Ungh. Oooohh. Ungh." I pushed for one last spurt to release.

I collapsed on him.

"Oooooooooooooh."

"Nice, my friend. Very nice."

"Thank you," I said, kissing his neck. "Thank you, thank you, thank you."

I rolled off him. He turned on his side to face me. I looked down at the condom.

"It appears to be quite a load. How long has it been?" he asked.

"Actually, I thought of you in bed last night, so ... just a day."

"Very nice."

I smiled at him. "So, what about you? What's your pleasure?"

I looked at his cock. It wasn't fully hard since he was being fucked, but the thickness of it was intimidating. I wasn't sure if I could ever take it. It was set on the sheets where he had leaked pre-cum.

"Quite honestly, a blowjob can't bring me off. Would it be okay if you just used your hands?"

"Certainly. But allow me a few minutes to indulge myself."

I maneuvered over his body and placed my mouth on his dick. I felt it get completely rigid. I wanted to suck him a few minutes. Uncut cocks were a rarity for me. I tried to detect the subtle differences.

I took my mouth off and moved up to kiss him. His hand pressed the back of my head and pushed me into him harder. Our tongues met and danced. Our noses jousted. We mauled each other's face.

But a dick awaited.

I moved back and took hold of the awaiting prize. Sawyer moved his hand behind his head and closed his eyes. His thick manhood felt phenomenal in my hand. I adored his skin.

As I stroked his cock, he breathed and moaned.

As I stroked it more, he groaned and writhed.

As I stroked more, his body movement became intense. He growled. Loudly.

And came.

"OHHHHH!!!"

The first spurt of thick, white cum leapt from his erection. The following spasms were shorter, but it looked so artistic in the dark hair of his thick bush. My grip felt strong on his blood-filled organ. Sawyer lifted his hips and back, arching his body in the conclusion of his sexual climax.

And then he went limp. "Holy fuck. That was ... that was wonderful."

"So are you," I said, looking down on him.

"T' es canon, toi!"

"What does that mean?"

"You're so hot."

"If I could remotely pronounce that, I'd say it back."

We kissed again.

"For a period of just a couple of weeks, I think we had sex eight times. It was usually in his hotel room, but I brought him to my place two or three times. He fixed breakfast at my place one time. I sat back and enjoyed listening to him sing while he worked over the stove."

"This had to be good for you, following Cooper's choice."

"Looking back, it was. But it was only temporary."

"Still, you were able to feel something again. That's good."

My ass walked the tightrope between pleasure and pain. Sawyer's thick cock spread me open further than I ever had. More than Arlo. More than Derek. It hurt. And yet, him fucking me felt great.

He put all his body weight on me. I was crushed. And I loved it. I felt him smothering me. And I needed it. It was our last night together. I needed to feel every sensation I could to remember him by.

Sawyer jackhammered my ass. My dick was being ground into the bedsheets. "Uh – unh – unh – uhhh," I gasped.

"Mitch.

"Mitch!

"Mitchelllll!!!

"Unnghhh!!!"

Sawyer grunted with each push. And I came with him, my cock blowing cum between my navel and the sheets. We both groaned in our orgasms.

"Oh. God almighty," he panted into my neck.

He rolled off. I rolled in the other direction.

"You came with me?"

The smear on my body and sheets was worthy of some cleaning.

"How perfect," he smiled.

He pulled the condom off. It looked like a sock. What do they even call that size, Goliath? My ass was a powder keg. But I felt great.

And sad.

"I hate that you are leaving."

"Me too. Je me sens moi-même quand je suis avec toi."

"What does that mean?" I asked.

"I feel like myself when I am around you."

"Do you have to hide who you are from the brothers?"

"No. But I don't feel completely free to ... talk openly, to be myself."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be. You've been the best part of this trip."

I kissed him.

"You don't know how much I needed you. Sadly, now it hurts that you are going away."

"I guess it was good that I felt something other than pain, but I got sad really quickly. As much as I loved being with him — and I did care for him, very much — I knew it was just filler for the gap left behind from the finality of Cooper."

"Were you happy with Sawyer?"

"I was. Had he lived here, we very well could have become a thing. But that made it easy for us. We knew it was just fun for a while. But it got my mind off things."

"I'm sure that helped."

"It did. After he left, I was sad — but it was because he had left, not about Cooper. But — get this! — a couple of days later, I saw a FedEx truck and BAM. I was back into my depression again. I could only think about Cooper."

"But you talked to Cooper last week. While your relationship might have ended, Cooper can still be in your life."

"Can he? Can I look at him and never think `What if?'"

"Do you think that when you look at me?"

I wasn't sure how to answer.

"Slightly, I suppose. I can think that about anyone whom I've loved. But Cooper was THE One."

Logan leaned forward. "But he doesn't have to be the only one."

"What if he is? What if he was, and I blew it all by being recklessly impulsive? What do I have to look forward to?"

"Life!!! Okay, let's pretend. Let's say you and Cooper lived happily together. You made up, he chose you, you moved in together. Let's pretend.

"Okay."

"And then let's say he was in a car wreck or had a heart attack."

"Damn, Logan!"

"We're not wishing that on him. But ... what if it happened? Would you say there could be nothing in life for you to look forward to?"

I sat stunned. "I hadn't ever really looked at it that way. So, are you suggesting, instead of being depressed, I need to grieve?"

"In a way, perhaps. If that is a path to acceptance, then ... okay. Just allow yourself to be human. Cooper has forgiven you. Allow yourself to make mistakes — own them! — and then be forgiven of them."

"That's kind of hard."

"Mitchell, each of us is made up of decisions of our past. That's just fact. But don't let your past define who you are. Look forward, not back."

"How so?"

"Did you say Sawyer was the last person in your book?"

"Yeah."

"Then let me have it."

I pulled the book off the table and held it to my chest. "What? Why?"

"What good is it doing you? You're hanging onto it ... almost like a lifeline. None of it matters. You are on this pointless quest. You keep chasing these sparks you had years and years ago. This is not the pathway to good mental health. You should step away from all that to move forward. Stop living in your past. Say goodbye to Sparkleland!"

The two of us looked at each other. I didn't know what to say. I didn't know how to respond. I clutched my black book. My grip on it was tight.

Could he be right? My problems were more than just a simple book. I was in therapy. I ruined my life because of that one night of ... stupid sparks. In one ridiculous effort to just see if they were possible again, I made the biggest mistake ever. I deeply hurt the man I truly loved. Although it was never my intention — I somehow managed to create a justification around it — it was no excuse for what I did. I hurt him. Cooper could never trust me again. And why should he??

"Why should he?" I mumbled out loud.

"What?"

"I so want Cooper to trust me again. Why should he? He has every reason not to. Kris was a little more innocent, but ... there is no explaining away what I did with Derek. It's indefensible."

"It was a big mistake, yes. But human beings make mistakes."

"That big??"

"Mitch, I have so many clients, gay and straight, who cheat on their partners. There usually is something that digs its way in to where they `just want to see,' `just want to do it once,' `just to feel something different one time.' There's always a `just' in there."

"Yes! I stupidly just wanted to see if Derek could make me see the spark that I did before. I became obsessed with it. I thought about it over and over!"

"Let me keep the book."

I stared at it in my hands. Why did I cling to this? All it was was a representation of my greatest failure. I flung it on Logan's coffee table.

"I never need to see it again."

"A first step. A big one."

"Remember what I wanted you to say last week?"

"Yeah."

"Say it."

"I'm worthy of being loved," I mumbled.

"Mitchell."

"I'm worthy of being loved."

"Again."

"I'm worthy of being loved."

"Good."

"But why don't I feel it?"

"Add these words: I'm a human being, and I'm fallible."

"I'm a human being, and I'm fallible. That was much easier."

"Now: I can learn from my mistakes and be better. I'm a good person."

"I can't say I'm a good person. I was a cheater, no matter how human I am."

"Do it for me."

I groaned. "Uhhh! Fine. I can learn from my mistakes and be better. I'magoodperson."

Logan got up, ripped off a sheet of paper from a pad and jotted some things down.

"Here."

"What's this?"

"What we've just discussed. I want you to say it when you get up and before you go to bed."

"Seriously?"

"Seriously."

I looked at the page:

I'm a human being, and I'm fallible.
I can learn from my mistakes and be better.
I'm a good person.
I'm worthy of being loved.

No matter how many times I said it, I wouldn't believe it.

"Now, the last thing is when you say it, I want you to mean it."

"Uuugh! That's impossible."

"Picture this for me. Close your eyes."

I didn't want to, but I did.

"Now, think of your last night with Sawyer. Picture yourself in his arms."

"Okay."

"You're being held. Someone appreciates and cares for you for who you are. Someone desires to be with you."

That was a nice feeling. I took in a deep breath and slightly smiled after I exhaled.

"Now softly, say the words."

I glanced at the page for a second, then I closed my eyes again.

"I'm a human being, and I'm fallible. I can learn from my mistakes and be better. I'm a good person. I'm worthy of being loved."

"Good."

"I'm not sure I can make it stick."

"Do it for me for a week. Dwell on happier things. Sawyer. Bonuses. Cruz. Kenneth. Love."

"I'll try."

Logan picked up my black book and dropped it in his trash can. It landed at the bottom with a loud thunk.

"Your path is forward. Think of that as your direction."

I looked at my friend. "Do you really think I'm a good person? Or is that something you have to say as my therapist?"

"I don't have to say anything."

"Do you think all people are good?"

"I haven't talked to all people. Thankfully, none of my patients are murderers."

I chuckled.

"But I think the people who come to see me are good people. It's within all of us to be kind and patient and understanding. You are all those things. Typically, my patients need to find their way back on-course and then forgive themselves. Some of them need to steer away from negative influences in their lives, and I help guide them with that. Each person is different, but good mental health is the goal for everyone."

"Hm."

"Mitchell, you forgave me all those years ago, right?"

"I didn't have to forgive you. You didn't do anything wrong. You just didn't love me."

"No. I hurt you. You forgave me for that."

"I suppose."

"Cooper forgave you."

"He said he did."

"It's time. Forgive yourself and let's work on moving forward."

"I'll try."

"When you went into that AA meeting last week, did they happen to say the Serenity Prayer?"

"They did at the end."

"Good. You can't change your mistake, can you?"

"No."

"Accept that. The things you can change are the decisions you make going forward."

"Right. I guess you're right."

"Exactly. You didn't come see me to fix your mistake. You came to me to find out how to move on."

"And you thought you wouldn't do a good job because you were too close to me."

"Oh, I still feel it wasn't a good idea."

"If I had gone to someone else, what do you think they would have done?"

"I have no idea. I would assume all therapists are different. I think all of them would have tried to get you to not hold on to your depression and pain. Since you did pick me — more like force me — the reasons you did were valid. I do know you. I do know who you are as a person. I know you are worthy of being loved."

"Thanks."

"Do you remember in college how we met?"

And for the time remaining, we reminisced about good times in years past.

I left feeling ... different. I still had my fair share of anxiety and regret. I would find it impossible for guilt to be removed in the snap of the fingers, but I did feel better.

I sat in my car and called Cooper.

"Hey!" he answered.

"Hi. I – I just wanted you to know that I won't drop out of the blue into your AA meeting tonight."

"I really liked seeing you last week."

"Me too. Did you tell Larry?"

"I did."

"What did he say?"

"I'm not sure he knew what to say. He said he was glad you were seeing someone. He did say he hopes you feel better."

"Hm. He didn't forbid you to see me?"

"Of course not. He knows we are close friends. Or used to be. I still miss you."

"Do you?"

"Totally. Laramie is ... well, he's the man I hope to love forever. But Mitch, you're still deep in my heart. I miss seeing you and spending time with you. I hope you know I love you too and always will."

"I have no idea how you ever forgave me."

"Because you asked me to. Because I loved you."

"I just made it impossible for you to fully trust me."

Cooper was silent for a moment. "I suppose. I'm sorry for that. That's my issue, not yours. I think I told you that last year. It's my problem. I knew if I couldn't be the right one, you needed to find that person who could be committed 100 percent. I'm very sorry that wasn't me."

"But it led you to the love of your life."

"True. And the person you are supposed to find is out there."

"I don't know. Perhaps."

I could hear someone in the background. I could tell he was still at work.

"You are probably winding things down and want to head home before your meeting. I'll let you go."

"I'm glad you called."

"Perhaps we can visit somewhere happier than an AA meeting next time."

"Like the rich opulence of the break room on the sixth floor?" he joked.

I laughed. "Sure. Maybe next week?"

"I'd like that."

"Bye, Cooper."

"Bye, Mitch."

I wanted to say that I still loved him with all my heart. I wanted to say that I am eternally grateful to him for forgiving me and that I will never feel worthy of it. I wanted to say he is the perfect man. I wanted to say that even though I messed things up, I was happy that he found love with Larry.

But I didn't. Maybe all that was summed up in my "bye."

Dinner was a salad made from ingredients in my fridge. I wanted to get to the club while I could get the last round during happy hour.

The Black Stallion had more cars than usual.

"What's going on?" I asked Carter, pulling up an available stool at the bar.

"I don't know for sure. Some event is in town. I guess it brought in some extra gays. I don't really recognize many of these people."

"Good for business though."

"True, but I much prefer familiar faces. I'm glad you are here."

"Aw. You're sweet. Thanks."

"Mitch! How are you this week?" Layton said, coming over.

"Honestly, I'm good. I ... feel good. Kind of."

Both of them smiled.

"Great! That's nice to hear," Layton said. "Does Carter have you taken care of?"

"I haven't ordered anything yet, actually."

"Like you change much. A frosted one?"

I thought. "While that sounds good, how about a fresh start. Why not fill that frosted schooner with a frozen margarita tonight."

"Coming up. It's only a buck off. The beer is a better deal, just so you know."

"I'm worth it."

He winked at me.

Layton and Carter were busier than in weeks past with the additional customers. I didn't get to visit with them as much, but I enjoyed watching them work. They were good at their jobs. Some people simply "show up" for work and just do their jobs. Other times, it is obvious when a person is the "right fit" for a job. Even for bartenders.

"Another?" Carter asked.

"No, I'm fine. These are big. I have a slight buzz. I guess I'm good." I handed him a credit card. "Besides, you guys are getting busier. I'll free up a bar stool."

"We like having you here."

I didn't know why. When I thought about it, I was just a schmuck who came into the club after a therapy session. Was I really that good of a customer?

Carter handed my card back to me, along with the receipt.

"Carter, you said you liked having me here. Can I ask why?"

"What do you mean?"

"Why me? I'm not anything special. Frankly, I'm sort of an idiot who cheated on his partner; I'm not really a ray of sunshine. Is that just something you say to all customers, or ..."

Carter stopped. He put both hands on the bar. "We like you because you don't pretend to be something you're not. When you talk to us, you're honest. We both can respect that. You put yourself down, but no one is perfect, Mitchell. We'll take you over the pretentious gay snobs who think they are `all that.' You're a nice person. It's natural to enjoy talking to someone who is normal."

"I'm normal?"

Carter chuckled. "Whether you like it or not."

"Logan ... my therapist ... my friend ... my, whatever ... he asked if I had a good support system. I told him I didn't have a really large one, but I did mention how you and Layton have come to be a good thing for me."

"How kind."

"Truly. I appreciate you guys. I – I'm sure I need to broaden my circle of friends."

"Did you lose many in the breakup?"

"Not ... not because they abandoned me or anything. I guess Cooper just got to keep them."

"If this Cooper forgave you, perhaps they are willing to give you another chance. Don't write all of them off yet."

"Maybe. Maybe I can go back to Joe some day."

"Joe ... as in the coffee shop here?"

"Yeah. We used to do Sunday mornings."

"Nice."

"I'll think about it." Carter hung some glasses in front of me. "By the way, you and Layton are really good at your job. You two make a great team."

"As coworkers." He then moved to the other end when a new customer got his attention.

His statement sounded like there was something behind it, but I guessed I wouldn't find out what it was.

Back at the house, it wasn't quite 9. I thought about many things that happened during the afternoon session: Sawyer, my "homework," reminiscing with Logan about good old days. Logan made forgiving myself sound so easy. The phrase "forgive and forget" clanged in my ears because no matter what, I knew I couldn't forget. I could never forget cheating on Cooper. If I couldn't forget, how could I possibly forgive? That was my obstacle.

It had been half a year since Sawyer and I had our close days (and nights) together. I thought about him singing. I pictured him making me pancakes in a T-shirt and nothing else in my apartment. I hummed the song I remembered him singing. Sawyer made a smile form on my face. I needed as many things as I could to make me do that. If I was to move on in my life, I had to stop dwelling on my failures. Logan said think of happier things. Sawyer was one.

I dialed.

"Hello, Mitchell?" a French-Canadian accent answered.

"Yes, it is. Hi there."

"What a delightful surprise. How are you?"

How was I? A mess. In therapy. Alone. Depressed.

"Hanging in there. And you?"

"I'm good. Wow. How long has it been? Six months?"

"At least. I was thinking about you today. I thought I'd call."

"How nice."

"How is your project going?"

"The new facility where you are? Fine, I suppose. The permitting is always aggravating. Then the ground preparation seems to take forever. But it is all progressing. Right now, I'm not involved in all this minutia as much as the brothers. Once things go vertical, I'll be more engaged with the construction. Thanks for asking."

"It's nice to hear your voice. I always liked your accent."

"Thank you. I always enjoyed your body."

My!!

"Oh. Well. Hm. Thank you for that."

"I'm sorry. That wasn't professional."

"I don't care about professional. I was more interested in calling on a personal level."

"Good." We both paused not knowing really what to say. "After our two weeks together, I really missed you when I got back to Montreal. I wanted to text you. I wanted to call you. But ... it seemed silly to do so. We knew back in February that ... well, we're from different places."

"You have an open invitation to call any time. Just to talk or catch up or vent or ... whatever."

"You're a kind man, Mitchell. That's what makes you so alluring. Well, that and your body."

I chuckled.

"If you were here right now, I think I'd take you to the bedroom the second you got out of the car."

Why did I say that? It made me sound desperate. Or creepy. Or lame.

"I'd love that. I'd love nothing more than your marvelous cock in my ass right now."

"Hmm. This call isn't going exactly as I thought it would."

He laughed hard. "I'm sorry. I enjoy flirting with you. I always was forward with handsome men."

"Thinking back, yes you were. And it was what I needed back in February."

"I as well. You are a good lover, Mitch."

"It's good that I have some positive qualities — as long as they don't get me in trouble."

"Naughty boy."

I had never told Sawyer of my fateful mistake with Derek. He didn't know, and at the time, I needed anything else to think about.

"So, are you finding new lovers there?"

"I'm actually seeing someone. We have been together for a few months now."

"Good for you. I hope he makes you happy."

"He's a good man."

It struck me that I questioned if that was an actual answer to my question, particularly after what he said to me a minute ago.

"If I head back to Jackson Bend later in the year, I'll give you a call. Perhaps we could do dinner."

"I'd love that."

We said final pleasantries, as well as "good night" and "goodbye."

He said he wanted me inside him, and yet he was seeing someone. I didn't like that. But I said something similar to Cooper four years ago when I questioned if his wife satisfied him.

"Gahhh!!" I screamed. Why would anyone think I'm a nice person? Logan, Carter, Sawyer ... they had it wrong.

As I brushed my teeth, I turned on the bedroom television to hear the next day's forecast and catch Sports. I didn't feel like watching any late-night talk shows. I grew tired of the monologues of both Fallon and Kimmel. I decided just to go to bed.

The drawer where my black book was usually placed was slightly open. I took a deep breath and released all feelings about it being gone. I didn't need to tense up about its absence. Before I turned out the lamp on my nightstand, I looked at the collection of things from my pockets. Among them was the paper that Logan handed me.

I stepped over to the mirror.

"I'm a human being, and I'm fallible.
I can learn from my mistakes and be better.
I'm a good person.
I'm worthy of being loved."

And I turned out the light.

* * * *

A post related to this chapter, "Glimpses of the Future," can be found at timothylane414stories.blogspot.com

Email: timothylane414@gmail.com