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"But, I thought..."
"No, you didn't," Julian interrupted me. "You never think. You just assume we all want what you want. Well, I don't want. What we have is nice and I'd like to keep it that way. But if you're going to try and insist on more, it's going to have to stop."
"But...why?"
"Why? Why?" he asked and then said the most spiteful thing I'd ever heard. "Because you're fucking old, old man! I like you and, yeah, I don't mind fucking you, but I could never be more than that with you! You're twice my age, for fucks' sake!"
Now, the whole litany came out. "How do you think that makes me feel, huh? What, you think I don't hear people talking about us when we go out? Two guys together is nothing, not any more. But two guys who are so different in age? They think either that you're an old perv or that I'm a fucking gold-digger!"
"I think that's enough," I snapped. "OK. Fine! Fuck it! Whatever! You want a younger man? Go and fucking find one! See if I give a shit! Go on! The pair of you! Fuck off out!" I stormed out of the room before either of them could see me cry.
They didn't go out that night, but things were never the same again. Within weeks, Julian had met Steve who, to my chagrin, was still nearly thirty but who was, apparently, good enough for Julian. A few weeks after that, they moved in together.
I cried then, too.
And that's that. There was going to be more when I started, but the story got away from me, and this is where it ended up. No happy ending. No positive thought for the future. Just depressing, sad shit. Sorry if that's a disappointment, but I did warn you at the beginning.
And, before you ask, no, none of this is true. I don't have a dead wife. I don't have a daughter (of any age). I've never met a young man and had a casual fling and I've never fucked a guy. All of this is the product of my own imagination, which is why it's such utter bollocks. If you got this far, thank you. Those that didn't get this far won't read this so it doesn't matter what I say to them!
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