I wasn’t sure, but the next time I saw him I realized I saw him differently. I noticed his blue eyes. I noticed his sexy, slender physique. I discovered his passion while working with the children in his class. So I asked him to have lunch with me. he refused. Then I asked him again and again. And one day he finally agreed and we went to a restaurant near the school.
After chatting about the kids in my class, about the working-class neighborhoods we grew up in, and the high schools we went to, Steve, one grade behind me, said, “I love ballet. I’m a dancer.” I watch things and listen to music.” . I think it’s very beautiful and moving. ”
“Let’s go together,” I said.
Steve didn’t answer and he continued to eat his grilled cheese sandwich while I looked at him in awe. Even the smallest things about him struck me, like the way the ends of his brown hair curled or the way his occasional smile lit up a room.
The next day I saw Steve in the school hallway and said hi.
“How are you?” I asked him.
“Oh, I’m depressed,” he replied. “There’s no reason…just one of those days.”
“When you’re depressed, you try to do something. When you’re really depressed, you ask someone to do something with you,” I told him.
“There’s a Fellini movie in this village, so I’ve always wanted to see it,” he answered. “Would you like to join me tonight?”
I hesitated before answering. Being available at the last minute went against the best advice anyone had ever given me about dating. But I couldn’t resist. “Yes, I would love to do that,” I told him.
We had dinner at Riviera Cafe before the movie. The Riviera Café was a popular restaurant in Greenwich Village, and its large glass windows gave a great view of people strolling down Sixth Avenue. That’s when he said he liked men.
“I’ve slept with two women so far, but I prefer men,” he said.
I swallowed what was in my mouth and reached for my glass of wine. Then I realized that maybe he wasn’t rejecting all my invitations because of my appearance or personality.
“Thank you for sharing,” I heard myself saying. “Maybe we can still be friends.”
Yes, as he shook his head, his hair brushed against his forehead, and I realized it was completely arousing.
Someone held someone’s hand in the movie theater.
After the movie ended, Steve asked me, “Would you like to stay at my apartment?” I live only a few blocks from here. ”
“Yes,” I answered almost instantly.
***
We have been married for 45 years. Steve will tell you we’ve been together for 46 years, ever since I moved into his apartment a few weeks after that night we saw the movie. During that time, it was unclear who held whose hand first. Was it Steve? Was it me? Or was it? bashat – A Yiddish word meaning foreordained by God. In the end, it was the voices I heard in my sleep that brought us together.
Source: BuzzFeed – LGBTQ – www.buzzfeed.com