Gorilla and the Metalhead Pt. 05

"OK," croaked Gorilla. "I understand," he said, even though he didn't. 'It doesn't matter,' he thought to himself. He was about to hang up, but Carlos continued.

"I'm not looking for a relationship right now," said Carlos, "and it doesn't sound like you are either, so I don't know why this should be this hard. Or maybe it's hard because there's something unsaid between us that's important. Would you agree?"

Gorilla grunted.

Carlos continued. "I can't work out what this means. Any of it. I don't know what you want. Think about it from my perspective. When we checked out, you thought a handshake was an appropriate goodbye. Later that night we're flirting by text, the next night I don't hear from you at all, and tonight you're all like 'so how was your day' like we're fuckin' besties. It's making my head spin."

Gorilla grunted again.

"You probably don't realise it, but the ball is like 100% in your court right now. If you want to be the loner of the highway, that's cool with me. No skin lost, no bones broken, no egos bruised. And next time you're in Atlanta, we can meet up for dinner, sink some brews and have sex. I'm up for that. And as a matter of fact, when I didn't hear from you yesterday, I thought that's what you'd already decided. But after tonight, I'm not sure that's where you're at. I mean, what the fuck, dude? Do you even know how to talk to a guy?"

Gorilla interrupted. "No. Not really."

"Wait, what?"

"No, I don't," admitted Gorilla. "It's the truth. I don't really know how to talk to guys. Not in terms of having meaningful conversations, that is. It's easy for me to befriend a dude for an hour or two, or even overnight. I can easily hold up one end of a conversation at a table or at a bar. But I'm way out of practice in terms of having a serious conversation with a dude. Constantly being on the road is a big part of the reason I don't form deeper connections. But is it that I *can't* connect with people because there's something fundamentally wrong with how I'm wired up, or is it because I'm on the road so often it just isn't worth the effort? I don't know the answer to that question, and until I met you, it never really mattered. But the fact that I'm so out of practice in talking to people -- I mean, in terms of having meaningful conversations with meaningful people -- makes it really difficult for me to know how to say and do the right things when it actually matters. So no, I don't really know how to talk to you. I wish I did. I mean, I wish I could. I struggle to express my emotions when it matters, but maybe that's because my emotions don't really matter when I'm just scouting the apps for an anonymous hole to plough."

A silence fell. Gorilla desperately hoped Carlos would find something to say in response to fill it. Gorilla could hear Carlos's breathing, so he knew the line wasn't dead. Carlos waited, listening.

Gorilla continued. "Yes. There's something unsaid," he breathed, "or at least there is for me. I can feel something, but I don't know what it is. It's been so long since I've felt this way, and it's confusing and scary. Let me try to put it this way. I know I set an expectation that I'd be gone from your life once I left Atlanta, but my response to you is definitely not the same as my reaction to any of the other dudes I've ever met on the road. Most men I hook up with are fun for a night or two, and then I'm happy to never see them again. I don't think about any of them anymore, but I'm still thinking about you. I'm expressing this so badly and I totally expect you to hang up on me any second. But I want you know I liked spending time with you and I'd really like to see you again. You took me to cool gigs and bars. You're entertaining. You're funny. You're fucking kinky, too, and I like that. But it's so fucking hard to ... fuck, I don't know the words ... sometimes I wish I worked in a factory or a warehouse so I'd have a stable geographical base, so I could maybe feel grounded enough to say the right things to the right guy when the right guy showed up ..."

Carlos wasn't going to let this opening go. "Am I the right guy?"

Gorilla tapped his courage. "Don't know. Maybe."

That was good enough for Carlos. "I don't know either ... but maybe you're the right guy for me too. Maybe."

There was a brief silence.

"I really like you," Gorilla confessed.

"I really like you too," said Carlos. He couldn't see it, but at the other end of the phone line, Gorilla's face broke out a wide smile.

Carlos continued. "That's all I needed to know, man. I like you, but I don't want you to dick me around. If you can be straight with me, I'll be straight with you. Your messages and your silences these last few days have fucked with my head. I've been thinking to myself 'is he into me the same way I'm into him?' and I didn't know until now. I guess you've got some personal shit to work through, but for the moment, I'm just glad we've cleared the air a little."

"Yeah. Me too," Gorilla grunted.

"You said something the other day about showing me some highway," said Carlos.

"Yeah. I did."

"Is that a genuine offer?"

"Yeah. It is."

"Cool. Show me some distant horizons."

Gorilla had been tiring of the road. The long days, the restless nights, the repetitiveness, the lonesomeness. Suddenly, he had a new lease of life. "Sure thing," he beamed.

"When are you likely to be back in Atlanta?" asked Carlos.

"I can't remember offhand. I'd need to check my schedule," Gorilla answered, "but maybe a week. Week and a half at most."

"I'll be here. Pick me up when you swing by."

"Cool."

"Night, dude," said Carlos. "Get some rest, sexy trucker man."

"Thanks, dude. You too. Good night. Sleep well, rockstar."