One year later

He never made it back to England. I call his parents to talk and reminisce. It still fucking hurts so much but there's no point in talking about it.

***
Here's a memory that makes me laugh.

It took M. a while to get used to the idea that I was past the years when my delicate sensibilities had to be protected (quite frankly, I think if he'd ever known how early on my sensibilities turned indelicate, he'd have been far more embarrassed than I would've been expected to be), and so it took a while before he decided it was appropriate for me to go to an R-rated movie with him. He went out of his way to pick a movie that he thought would be thought provoking, and worthy enough of discussion to offset any scenes that might prove uncomfortable (for me, of course. Because, he was cool as a cucumber, see?). After much discussion, he settled on a little picture that had been getting good word of mouth and supposedly had a twist to it and was, as an added bonus, set in England and included a joint favorite actress, Miranda Richardson.

He took me to see The Crying Game.

Unfortunately, the big reveal failed to be in anyway dramatic for me because I was trying so hard not to laugh myself silly at the absolute mortification I knew he was feeling; I tried to let him save face, there. I'm not an angel, though. I got a good couple of months run out of my faux-Victorian-I-can't-believe-you-took-me-to-that-movie-pass-the-smelling-salts-routine.

The Crying Game - Jaye Davidson (from the movie The Crying Game)



The original song. Very nice guitar; M. would've appreciated it.

The Crying Game - Dave Berry