Being Lonely

Written by Weldon Boyd

The music was playing softly, the soundtrack from Beaches. I love the way it flows from a powerful orchestra and Bette Midler’s seductive voice. I had fond memories of that soundtrack; here I was, about to make another memory with that same music melting into the background.

We had come to my house after a night on the town. We started after work by going to happy hour at our local hangout, then progressed to a yuppie dance club and finally back to my homestead. Truthfully, I was amazed that he actually agreed to come back here. I mentioned that I had rented some movies earlier in the week and still had them. He was more than ready to come back and watch them with me.

A couple of beers into the first movie, we shut it off and turned on the radio. I slyly put the Beaches CD into the player, hoping to switch over later without him noticing. We were talking as we always do. If there is one thing about our relationship, it’s that we have some of the best conversations one could imagine. Being the same age, but of entirely different backgrounds, we have many life experiences to share. I loved hearing about his parents, his high school experiences, and his past relationships.

The beer, mixed with my thin blood, was running straight to my brain. I was losing all signs of control and apprehension listening to him talk, staring at his beautiful eyes, and feeling his glow when he laughed.

It was an awkward moment. The conversation had lulled us a little and I was ready. Sitting on the far end of the couch, I gently put my beer back on the coffee table and looked deep into his eyes.

“Paul,” I said, already blushing a deep purple red. “I have a question I have to ask you . . .” The look on his face was one I never expected, although, I really didn’t know what to expect.

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