It’s now been a year and a month since I’ve been back from the Middle East. Things since being back can be summed up in one word: chaotic. Honestly they told us to expect returning to civilization to be a culture shock, but boy was I unprepared. I’ve re-enlisted to do another term in the Army, gone to leadership training to become a Noncommissioned Officer, met new friends, moved up to work at Brigade HQ and most importantly come to terms with my untimely breakup with Mr. Diggs. Though it took time---and let my friends tell it more than a fair share of conference calls---I have finally accepted it. A year later and I am finally free of that weight that held down on me while I was deployed where honestly I should have been more worried about the indirect fire we would receive from the enemy.
In the whirlwind of life events that have transpired I did manage to obtain a small calm. That calm was named Keith Stewart. He is 24, an alumni of MTSU and currently an accountant for Deloitte. We met back in June in typical gay fashion: Jack’d. We messaged back and forth while I was out visiting the Burberry outlet in Green Hills mall in Nashville. I was leaving the city when I got the message that he would be interested in a date. From our correspondence over the past 3 hours, I felt that it would be in my best interest to pull off on the next exit of I-24 and head back into the city. I was glad I did.
When I met him downtown at Rodizio Grill on 2nd Avenue he was way more than what I expected. He was prompt, only showing up a minute or two late, which was already points because on the Queerfolk time scale, he was early. He walked across the rustic downtown street to meet me. I knew it was him from afar, not because I could recognize him from the pictures, but because I felt it was him.
“Javari?” he asked upon walking up to me.
“Yes. You’re Keith, right?” I answered. He smiled and I felt my stomach flip. His smile was blinding and though it was so, it was nothing to his touch. After we had successfully made it through the confirmed identity phase of the blind date he proceeded to hug me. This shook me for two reasons; I usually initiate the hugs as I am big on hugs, and his arms around me paralyzed me. It was such a gentle sting that felt so good and so relaxing and just as quick it was over as we moved inside the Brazilian steakhouse.
As we crossed the threshold into the restaurant, immediately the hustle and bustle of the city was replaced by the gentle uproar of patrons enjoying their time here. The gentle of silverware was accompanied by a roar of conversation and laughter which worked wonders to ease the growing nerves I had. The lighting was soft to help counterbalance the noise level of conversations. We had a decent wait of about 20 minutes before we were seated at a cute table for two. All the while the staff were all so friendly and personable that I didn’t even notice the wait. The energy, the honesty, the modest feel to the place…
It all helped set the mood for what proved to be the best first date I’ve experienced to the day.
It’s been four months since we met in Nashville that day and the fire has grown, if possible, brighter. His job has since whisked him away to live in Los Angeles while mine was preparing to move me to Germany in a few months. I didn’t really realize the gravity of all of this until I FaceTime’d my best friend Wade while visiting Keith in Los Angeles.
“So what are you going to do when you move to Germany?” he asked me during our conversation. I hesitated as I popped a piece of the chocolate Keith’s roommate and best friend, Ellyn, left out for us into my mouth.
“Well. We will cross that bridge when we get to it,” I said casually. There was a pause on the phone which I noted.
“What?” I asked.
“Well it’s just that you said you’d never do long distance again,” Wade said cutting to the chase.
“I know---“ I began but he cut me off.
“No. I remember you telling me that if you weren’t in the same zip code it wouldn’t happen. You’re two time zones away and about to be further than that next year!” he exclaimed his frustration audible.
“I know but Wade he feels different. This is different. I don’t know what it is but I don’t mind it. I mean I do mind the distance but I just want him. I’m content with having him in my life in some capacity rather than none. Besides, who knows what the future could bring,” I said sipping on my glass of wine.
That evening Keith came home to dinner prepared by yours truly. It was the first time I had made a real meal for him and I was proud in my ability to imitate my mothers Vatapá recipe. The trip was already amazing, topped off that same evening when we went out to The Abbey in West Hollywood. The club was amazing boasting a lavish outdoor area, four dance areas three bars and plenty of space. Even this though wasn’t the highlight of my day. It wasn’t even dancing, or teaching rather, bachata with Keith in the streets of WeHo to the accompanying sounds of a talented street performer.
The highlight of my day came when Keith, Ellyn, and I were walking back to the car after an evening full of frivolity. I was desperately trying to find an after party as I didn’t think the night should end at 2am in Los Angeles. Now Keith is not one to be bashful by any means and sets to work talking to people trying to help. When I finish my conversation up with one gentleman who was either too drunk to be helpful or just as clueless about the city as I was, I turned back to Keith who was starting up one with another person.
“Hi! I’m Keith and this is my boyfriend Javari,” Keith said shaking the other person’s hand and motioning to me. My heart skipped a beat as I inhaled. It was honestly the best feeling I’d had in a long while. The rest of the night was a blur to me as all I could think about was being introduced as the boyfriend.
How soon is too soon to move on.
When you’re talking to a new guy how do you know when you know you want to try?
How soon is too soon to be together?
How soon is too soon to know that you want him and only him (possibly till death do you part)?
Can you propose too soon?
Distance: Germany and LA/ LA and Fort Campbell
The only way to close the divide is to marry him to get him to come with me
I want to marry him. I just don’t want to inconvenience him.