And clear

I got a tumblr notification and my face immediately flushed with embarrassment.  The screename that liked one of my stories is the same screename as one of my favorites from Growlr.  He lives down the street just a little ways, but our schedules never quite meshed so we've only met once.  I'm not sure why I'm embarrassed.  Just being discovered, perhaps?  Discovered as a whore when I make it seem like every person I meet is special and cherished.  Can't both be true?

So I immediately message the guy on Growlr and asked him if he's put two and two together.  Apparently he has.  For several months now and he still wants to meet up again.  And it comforts me a little at the heels of the panic of forgetting in that earlier post.  I really remember remember this guy.  I don't remember the actual details of the sex, but I do remember him.  His boyishly handsome face.  His Pillsbury Doughboy shirt, playfully and ironically apropos to his cubbish figure if that oxymoron makes sense.  And that hunger and lust.  I remember the visit being short.  I remember it being aggressive.  I remember fucking him pretty relentlessly and harshly and him messaging me again and again for more afterward.

And now I will always remember him.  Remember him as the guy that has gotten a deeper glimpse of me every post I put out there, seeing me figuratively a little more and more, and still aching to see more of me in the flesh.