Met Steve over coffee and tears. He looked just like Dad did after coming around from 8 hours of open heart surgery... only more miserable. Yesterday he caught his brother coming out his wife’s bedroom with no trousers on. He said he’s such a coward for confrontation that he just smiled and said “Hiya Dave, you been here long?” But actually he’s utterly broken.
Steve is my best straight friend. Well straight(ish), because there was that incident in Barry’s nightclub where after 12 Gin & Tonics his cock somehow ended up in my mouth. But that was a discrepancy and I’m sure Saint Peter will forgive him that minor indiscretion.
Steve is also a Spammer. He masquerades as a Ghanaian princess and sends out 1000’s of emails a day. That’s how I first met him. He was hitting my mail box with spam two or three times a week, and as I do everyone, I replied. For over 6 months he kept up the pretence. Then one day he mailed revealing himself and asking if I’d like to meet up. As I sat trying to figure out whether he was queer or not he admitted never having been in a West African Embassy, that his father wasn’t black, but that the plane crash which he never died on was quite real. Of course, by that time he was in possession of all Johns banking and credit card details. That he never used them told me a lot about him. But not of his honesty or integrity, nor even that he had a conscience. No, it was something much more human than all of that. It told me that beneath his virtual tiara, and behind his non-existent fortune, he was just as lonely as me. Now how could I reject that?
Steve agrees that I must be very cautious where John is concerned. He said he read a story like this once where an ex-lover lost his mind and cut the other mans dick off in an underground car park. He cannot understand why I still want John back. No-one can. But the fact is I love him, and as we all know, love is not a rational emotion.