It's 8 a.m. inside my boyfriend's luxurious condominium. From his livingroom on the 10th floor of 880 North Lake Shore drive I have a spectacular view of Lake Michigan.
It's a far cry from my neighborhood. The house in which I live is situated right at the sidewalk.
From behind Randal Todd drapes his arms around my naked body and plants a kiss on my neck.
"I'd like to take you for a ride. There are beautiful beaches along the lake."
"Sounds good to me," I replied. "I wish I had a camera."
"Get dressed."
I walked back into the bedroom where my bluejeans, Terra Cotta polo shirt and briefs lay in a heap at the foot of the bed. A minute later I came fully dressed to the dining table, a light-cherry piece. Randal was preparing breakfast. Coffee was brewing.
Now 40, Randal's past experience is similar to that of other gay men. His failed marriage to Janette Longfellow had lasted barely 3 years, coming to an end by age 30.
I, on the other hand, had come out at 19 to Larry, my then best friend. He could not understand why I wasn't hitting on the hot girls at college parties.
Late morning finds me and Randal standing on Esce Beach looking westward. The temperature is in the 80's. Sailboats are on the water. Other beachgoers are sitting in folding chairs or lying on blankets. People are in the water.
"Janette got over being pissed off at me. It took her a while."
"Are you guys friends?"
"As a matter of fact we are," said Randal.
"I can tell you an unbelievable story."
"I'm listening."
"That summer after freshman year I stayed at my friend's house for a week before going home. His dad kissed me."
"That complicates a friendship."
"Tell me about it."
"That marriage came to an end."
My silent nod conveyed agreement.
The incident with Larry's father led to nothing with him. By sophomore year, however, another guy had come into my life.
"There was just that one kiss with my friend's father. I broke it off. The following September I lived with Ken in the dorm. He's my ex."
