Written about the second week of March 2025

I enjoy experiments. I like pondering potential outcomes. Though there were too many variables, this time and in times past, I like to tell myself it is a glimpse of the future. Somewhere not too deep down, I believe everything can be the future. That everything is the future. Timelines split with every minor and major decision: choosing coffee over tea at breakfast or… moving in with someone or not.

Nat Catch Up ~4 months post break up

That was the most recent experiment. It started innocently enough. After Nat and I broke up in November 2024, I went to visit their place for what I thought might be the last time. The purpose was to pick up my belongings from there after all. Instead, it became the first of many biweekly trips out to see them. I have traveled the three hours there and three hours back every other weekend since we broke up. Strange, isn’t it?

I don’t know if I told you all how that relationship has progressed since the breakup. Forgive my repetition if I have. Very briefly (or as briefly as I am able), we broke up, said we could still be friends, I was wary as everyone I have undergone a breakup with has said that and it has not always been true. I get my stuff, and it feels genuine that we could be friends. I go visit once more 1-2 weekends later, bringing soup as Nat was sick with a cold or something. We had spoken about possibly being physical and both admitted to being open to it. We are laying apart on their bed watching a show or movie when they say they are cold and miss human touch. They invite me into their arms and they are so cold that I take their hands in mine to warm them. Some time after we cross the boundaries we’d both left open. We agree to alternate, one passionate visit, then a celibate one and so forth. Next visit, we are chaste friends. I bring my cat to introduce to their cat which we had wanted to do for months; it does not go well and being strictly platonic is extremely easy. I remember Nat, frustrated, asking me something along the lines of “why are you here?!”. It felt accusatory and like an order to get out and leave. I sleep on the couch to be near my cat who we separated from theirs. It is the first time I do not share a bed with Nat when we are in the same city. The next morning feels like a permanent farewell. I leave earlier than usual, worried by all of the cans of beer and alcoholic drinks strewn about their bedroom as well the multiple shots of whiskey they took before I left in the very early afternoon.

The next visit I dread. I question if I should even go, but Nat has apologized and asked for help in earnest. I had asked for a week off at work to get away for New Year’s. Originally, I had planned to go see a friend from university and take Nat with me. This was no longer a possibility as I had had a recent falling out with said friend of my own doing (one day I will face that story and put it into words). I had nothing to do and nowhere to go. It was also the deadline I had given Ivy to move out. I decide to go. It would give Ivy space to pack her things and move out comfortably plus it would allow me time away from my family’s home (as Ivy and I shared my parent’s garage turned studio for the last year and a half at this point). Nat had asked me to help them deep clean their room. We did that. We also told ourselves we would travel back to Dallas together that weekend since they said after the breakup that they did not want to make the trip out to visit me in Dallas so long as Ivy continued to share the room with me. Nat and Ivy clash and I agreed since it was not fun for anyone when they were both in a room together. Another reason for my continued travel to see Nat in this time.

That week was a sigh of relief. Things felt new, but better than expected. We fucked, we cleaned, we played video games. This is when they taught me to play Halo which became a reason to hang out online once I returned to Dallas. We got very drunk one night. We cried as we usually did (or at least, as I usually did). They at one point laid on the floor with their back turned to me in the fetal position. They loudly exclaimed for me to stay back. All I wanted was to put my arms around them and comfort them, but I was afraid. Strong as I am, I know how dangerous a wounded animal can be and Nat, lost in their personal hell, was no different. The next day they admitted that they were on the verge of saying some unspeakable thing to me. Something they knew would hurt me enough to alienate me. Something unforgiveable. I was tempted to ask but instead thanked them for not saying it aloud.

Since that visit, Ivy had moved out. I could have insisted they come out to Dallas that weekend as intended, but truthfully, I preferred to make the trip to Nat’s to get away from my parent’s home. Theirs was a safe place. I continued to make the trips (and we continued copulating, all but forgetting our half resolve at chastity). Until last week. Again, the plan had been to bring Nat back with me after a trip out to see them. I had presented the idea of them spending a full week at my now solo studio. I knew my parents would not be happy about it since they had made their disdain of Nat clear by the silent treatment they played every time Nat had come to visit me in the past. Despite that, I proposed I spend Friday to Sunday afternoon at their place, Sunday evening to Saturday morning at my place then back to theirs from Saturday afternoon to Sunday afternoon when I would return home on my own. This way I would pick them up and drop them off, no need to take a train out to see me and back.

However, they decided against it on the day of as they had done on at least two separate occasions prior to this one. I was disappointed, but not entirely surprised. They offered to go by train the following weekend and stay from Friday to Friday so they could start the week on the weekend with me. They said it would be more comfortable knowing how my parents reacted to their presence in the past. Plus, it gave us a weekend to enjoy in Dallas. They made great points. I agreed though I did so with much doubt. Afterall, they had said they would go to Dallas thrice already without follow through.

The day before they were meant to be in Dallas, I bought their train ticket. I only bought one in case they decided to leave early. I didn’t tell my parents that Nat would be visiting until a few hours before they arrived. I do not wish this post to be overly lengthy since the week was long. I wish to describe the events but moreso I came to write to explore how I feel about said events. I’d say I will try to be brief but I am not sure that is possible. (author’s note after finishing said post: it was not)

Friday: Nat’s Arrival

When they arrived, I was able to finish work and pick them up at the train station. There is a train that goes directly to the station next to my workplace, however Nat has said they do not like the public transportation in Dallas and I have not been able to convince them to cross the platform to hop on a different train and save me a trip into downtown Dallas. Usually if I am stuck at work they end up taking an Uber to the hospital and may wait for me in the cafeteria until I am ready to leave. I parked in the usual parking lot next to the downtown train station and was barely trying to pay for parking when Nat strolled over to me. We hugged. It was a tight hug as if we had not seen each other in months instead of the five days since I left from visiting them in east Texas.

I asked where they would like to go. I had made a map of places we could go to since Nat had mentioned starting on a weekend so we could actually enjoy the city. However, Nat asked to go to my home since they were wearing sweatpants under their jeans (the train was cold but outside it was about 80 degrees Fahrenheit). This deflated me a bit since we were already at the heart of the city and would have to drive 30-40 minutes to my home then the same amount of time (or more) anywhere else we decided to go. But I obliged seeing the sweat bead their forehead.

We arrived home where only my mother and brother were inside. My dad may have been at work or at the store, I do not remember. This was nice though since there were less people to be bombarded with. My mom gave me a taciturn hello. I mentioned Nat was here and she replied that she knew from the message I had sent. I was so nervous about sending the message that I had muted the chat and at this point did not know if anyone had responded to it. Later I found out neither my mother nor father responded to it- only read it. When Nat made it out of the bathroom I almost had to drag them to say hello to my mom and brother. They were nervous about my mom since she has been cold with them anytime they have come to visit. This was no exception, but Nat managed a polite wave.

That day we spent inside, door open in my garage studio chatting, and eventually watching a show. Nat asked about hanging out with my friends. I told them we would meet up on Wednesday for a scheduled work happy hour. In fact, I had two scheduled that day. But they asked to invite them over to meet them in a casual environment. I was nervous about inviting them so last minute. To my surprise however, a couple of them agreed (only one declined the invitation).

Saturday- Hangout with Friends at my Place

So, on Saturday I took to cleaning the entire room and reorganizing the space. I moved the loveseat couch to the corner where my cat’s items used to be and moved those to the center of the room. It sounds like not much, but it took the entire morning and part of the afternoon. After this I showered and ordered pizza.

I believe Nat was scrolling on their phone most of this time. I remember trying to get them to engage. To help me plan the room layout or chat, something, but they didn’t say much. I gave up and did it myself though they did help whenever I needed a second person to move furniture (the full dressers or the couch). I felt alone. Since they arrived, they had spent most of their time scrolling on their phone making minimal conversation. This made it feel like they were not truly here. I know it is a form of disassociation and that they were stressed coming into a home they were not necessarily welcome in…. yet understanding did not make me feel much better about it.

Nat asked to be taken to the gas station for cigarettes. I was stressed because it was 6pm when people were supposed to arrive. However my friends had mentioned they would be a little late, so I said yes. The gas station is on the corner maybe two minutes by car anyway. When we returned we saw my friend Briana and her husband Jamie talking to my dad at the door. Thankfully I had told my dad to expect company. I hurried to the door and apologized. They followed me to the studio and got comfy on the loveseat. Nat and I had played video games with them once before online. It had been fun, but also, to me, awkward, as the first step in courting them into a new form of friendship (I had only met up with them for in person hangouts like this one prior to that gaming time).

As we waited for the food and our other friend, Evelyn, to arrive, the four of us chit chatted. Nat at one point, no longer scrolling on their phone, but instead at full attention, began talking about Dungeons and Dragons, specifically a campaign they wished to run. Briana and Jaime seemed open to the idea of starting a game with us though I am not sure if it was out of politeness or true interest. Soon, the food and, shortly after, Evelyn arrived. We ate and switched to board games since we had only been able to play one game of overcooked prior to her arrival and did not have enough remotes to make it work for all of us.

The board games were fun. First, we played a trivia game which I wasn’t very excited to play as I historically have not done well with trivia games and I have played them with a partner in the past who was very good at them (Jay, if you guys remember my first, now ex, boyfriend). Nat is also an encyclopedia of facts so I imagined it might go similarly and I was a bit apprehensive, but Nat was excited. It went about as I thought it would though a lot more endearing. Nat was so excited with everyone’s questions, often giving hints and trying to help others as well as giving more facts and background stories on the topics that came up. I thought it was sweet. Also, the topics they got ended up being random things they weren’t as knowledgeable about: mostly random pop culture things. For example, Barbie was one of the topics they received. The group found this particularly amusing.

After this game we played a game similar to twenty questions. Briana was a whiz with this one! Lastly, we played a quick word game where we were given a pile of random words and told to make responses to prompts with them. Nat exclaimed happily that they got both “they” and “them” as words. They were happy since those are the pronouns they prefer. Briana pondered out loud that she wasn’t sure how dirty to make her responses to the first prompt “explain why you are sore today” Without thinking, I responded, “well if it helps, I couldn’t even tell you why I’m sore because Nat is hogging the they/them pronouns”. Gosh. I still cringe. From previous hangouts, they know Nat and I have broken up. Now they know we are still intimate. Geeze, what’s wrong with me? I didn’t even look around to gauge reactions since eye contact is still not my default. I think some people laughed. I know I did to diffuse the statement.

Tangent time

Funny thing is we’d actually been quite tame. I think we’d only had sex once at this point. Usually, 24 hours in that number would be nearing double digits. Before they made it to Dallas, I had told them that I did not want to have sex while my parents were home. To me it was enough that I brought Nat over essentially uninvited but it would be a new level of disrespect to have audible sex with my parents in the house. Also a rule, was that the top bunk was a no go. I had gotten a bunk bed for when Ivy was still living in the room with me so we could have separate beds but since the bottom bunk converts into a futon and therefore is not a very comfortable mattress, I prefer to sleep on the top bunk which has a normal bed mattress. Nat did their best to respect my wishes, but they made it very clear that they wanted to be intimate that first night on Friday.

It is often an animalistic thing during the first few hours. Which I like and dislike for different reasons. It’s nice to be desired so blatantly. However, it is also nice to be met with a human being, to chat and catch up with, something we cannot seem to do until at least a handful of rounds. Truly, it’s like Nat is stuck behind a wall of desire. It feels like a different side of them and yet almost like something else altogether. On Friday, I refuse for hours. Finally, we sleep. When I wake (in the middle of the night), I can’t take it anymore. I also want them. It has not been easy to be the one keeping us from this ecstasy. I feel guilty for having said no late at night before going to bed, but I can’t take it anymore. Once the sun comes out, there would be less chance. So we fuck.

Tangent over.

Actually no, new tangent!

This same night, a few hours after falling asleep again, I am awoken to the sound of vomiting. Nat. It is decently common for Nat to vomit after a night of heavy drinking, which this had been. However, usually we are in their space where they have a bathroom easily accessible for such a thing. Here they were leaning over the top bunk over the dresser where I had piled many items to be sorted the next day prior to board game night. I sprung to action. Or… stumbled to it as I was yanked from sleep. I descended the stairs from the top bunk and sped away for a plastic bag. When I returned, I turned on the light and assessed the situation. Somehow, Nat had grabbed the first thing they could and were throwing up on a habit tracker on mine, essentially a notebook. Miraculously the vomit, beige and chunky, had remained suspended atop the pages. I grabbed it out of their hands and placed it on the floor on the opposite side of the room hoping to salvage some pages if the vomit had not seeped through entirely. By this point I had put on plastic gloves and located some disinfectant wipes. Thank goodness for having a cat’s litter box to clean weekly since these materials were easily accessible.

I began to wipe down the shelf directly below Nat’s head. They slurred that I didn’t have to clean up after them. I smiled weakly and replied that I did but not to worry. They also said they were okay now and refused the plastic bag I had handed them. I took it back and returned to the habit tracker across the room. I ripped the first ten or so pages before I noticed the vomit in the binding. I tossed it all in the bag then used a disinfectant wipe to clean the floor I’d placed the notebook on. Nat groggily, surprised even, asked if they had vomited all the way on the other side of the room. I said they had not before returning to wipe down the remote controls on the shelf. For some reason, though vomit is one of the few things that makes me queasy, I had been all business until now. Even with the gloves it got to me and handling the sticky remotes caused me to start dry heaving. Somehow, I got through it, tied up the bag and placed it by the door before grabbing a new bag which I put inside a bucket and placed within arms reach of Nat. Only then did I turn off the lights and return to bed. This was the first of seven nights with Nat at my place.

Now tangent over! Back to board game night!

We finish the word game after which my friends say their goodbyes and head home. I get to putting away leftover food and tidying up. Nat returns to scrolling on their phone. Nat had been drinking again this evening. I drank as well, though more moderately. The drinking the night before brought heavy conversations and lots of anguish to Nat. It was difficult even to bare witness to that. I dreaded every additional sip of alcohol they took now.

Saturday Night: Drunken Sex

I hesitate to write this next section. But I want no secrets. I want no rose tinted tellings. At least not insofar as the story is mine to tell. Here is what I remember… We went to bed on the top bunk. I was still yearning for them though like most nights when Nat has had more to drink than me it gives me pause to initiate. Though we trust each other and know generally we consent to having sex it gets blurry to consent in the moment when alcohol is involved. Nat was trying their best to be respectful, but it was clear they wanted me physically too. They said as much… so I asked what they would do if I wished them to disrespect me. And so it began. I was impressed by their restraint in the past 24 hours. I valued it.

Sometimes when I went to visit them it felt like I had minimal choice in the matter. So long as they knew I was generally open to having sex with them, they would initiate. If I ever said “no” or “not right now”, they would sometimes back off for a few minutes or until they couldn’t take it anymore and initiate again. Usually this ended in me saying yes. Usually this was because I truly wanted to partake as well. Sometimes it is nice to be desired and worked for. Other times it was neutral which quickly turned into a yes with a spine-tingling whisper to my ear from them. Once, I left the room because I could not take their insistence anymore. Less than an hour later, I said yes as it seemed the easier course. It wasn’t a hard “no” for me, but more of a “why not?”. I thought about that time a lot. By the next day I understood that they had crossed a boundary. That they had prioritized their wants above mine. That it was not the first time. I asked them about it. I wanted to know why they kept insisting when I had already, repeatedly, said no, going so far as to leave the room from how overwhelmed I was. Their eyes were hollow as they searched for words. Only finding “because I wanted to”.

I asked if they recognized that they placed their desire above my refusal and they nodded yes. It hurt, but I was glad that they were aware of their wrongdoing, especially given that they had framed my friend Teresa’s sexual actions with me months prior after her insisting to the point of me giving a hesitant yes, as sexual assault. I remember them once telling me that though what Teresa had done was wrong and they recognized that, they had never said they were any better. Nat themself says their coercion with me has been rape. I disagree. I see it as questionable, but not as rape. The only time I considered that word to be in any way potentially accurate is this Saturday night. Though, as with Teresa, I categorize it more as a fault in communication.

This night, I initiated with my comment asking Nat to disrespect me, despite being on the top bunk. Nat tried to be quiet, but the bed shook regardless. I was already beginning to panic from the noise that I was sure the rest of my household could hear. I had the word “stop” on my lips before the pain. If I can credit Nat one thing, it is that whenever we have been entangled, whether it be sex, kissing, or otherwise, when I ask them to stop they do, no questions asked. Pain during sex is not entirely uncommon for me (endometriosis is currently suspected by my medical team). While not surprising, it is not ideal. I ask Nat to stop. They don’t. I think they may not have heard me. Or, I fear, they have had too much to drink that they have disregarded my needs above their own again. I tell them to stop again and start to wriggle out from under them when they don’t do so immediately. They continue for a second or two longer before letting go. I am already crying unsure if any of this had been intentional. …I know I have issues. I want to see this through. We get down from the top bunk and finish before going to sleep.

After the events of Saturday night, we don’t have sex for two or three more days. I try to initiate, but Nat does not respond to my efforts. Even when explicitly stating what I want. They explain that they are trying to be respectful and not take advantage of me, I forget exactly how they said it. Thinking back on it now…maybe they had heard me ask them to stop and this was their self-imposed penance.

(Post Publication Note: I later asked Nat about this night and they told me they had not heard me ask them to stop. I believe them. We were trying to be quiet so it wasn’t like I shouted the word stop. I whispered it both times. They did stop, albeit with a lag of a couple seconds, once I started making physical distance. They didn’t hold me down or force themself on me. And lastly, I hid the fact that I was crying and I asked to keep going once we got off the top bunk. In the past when I have been in pain to the point of tears during sex, Nat stops immediately and gets me a heating pad or whatever I need for comfort.

Remember, this is not the extent of my sexual history with Nat. We have had so many tender moments I will not describe here as they are private. I only included what I did out of desire to describe the week in its majority. Even so, these are the highlights! I didn’t mention the cuddles afterwards or all the other small moments that add up. Heck, I hesitated to even add this note section, but one of my friends read this and was concerned so I felt it might be helpful to other readers as well.)

Sunday: Hanging Out with Nat and my Mom

We had planned to go to the flea market with my mom bright and early but ended up sleeping in. Instead, I invite her to get sushi with us. My work friend had suggested a restaurant across town. My mom negotiates for her favorite buffet instead and I am shocked she has accepted doing anything with us. She has been cold towards Nat since she has known of their existence. Even when not physically present she would pretend not to hear anything I said regarding them. It is awkward, but there is some conversation. I help with the language barrier as best as I can.

Monday and Tuesday: Tangent about Alcohol, Substance Use, and Coping

Those next couple days are lackluster. Monday and Tuesday I go to work and return as soon as I can since I am nervous about leaving Nat alone in my parent’s home despite my mom’s recent attempts at politeness. Monday was the most successful. Tuesday, I stayed later than needed to educate a patient past the scheduled appointment time.

On one of these days, I take Nat to the liquor store to stock up on alcohol for the week. Prior to this they had been drinking a bottle of whiskey and watermelon moonshine we purchased on Friday or Saturday (plus the Irish Cream and Coffee Rum that’d been sitting in my pantry for months untouched by me). Usually, I refuse to finance this addiction… but after seeing and hearing part of the reason for disassociating from the word in this way on their first night here (and knowing they did not have their other substance of choice, weed) I made an exception. Still now I feel foolish for having made it as I do not want this to be the expected norm (that I condone and facilitate their alcohol use). I wonder what the week would have been like if they had been sober.

Apart from it being the easy choice, to provide them with the coping mechanism of their choice, I also wanted to see what a week would be like when they could afford all of the alcohol they could want. It is one of the things that gives me the most pause about them moving to Tennessee and having a stable, well-earning job. I told them the purchase would go on their tab (a small sum from buying them Magic Cards and weed mainly). They agreed and reassured me that they tend to drink less alcohol when they are able to afford it. That it is less of a “get all you can while you can” thing then.

If this is worst case scenario… I think I could live with it, but I would rather not. The biggest reason I avoided getting to know Nat until I did is because I knew they drank heavily and had a history with drug use. My parents are a cautious, judgmental people. While I had the wherewithal to reject many of their assumptions based on culture, race, or gender, social judgements regarding alcohol and drug use were much more difficult to see past. The former topics were encouraged to be accepted and respected by my teachers and I got to enjoy these differences with my varied classmates. With drugs and alcohol, this was not only discouraged in my home but in school as well. It was villainized. The only time it had not been was during an Addiction and Recovery class I took in university. Here addiction was framed as a complicated disease. Not as simple as bad person does bad, harmful thing.

Even so, when I first made contact with Nat a year into living in east Texas, I kept my distance. A year after that when we first made prolonged eye contact and I felt a celebratory explosion in my soul… I chose to see beyond the behaviors they partook in. As my favorite book says, “we all do things”. I got to know them. I will never know or feel the dept that they do, but I accept it. It’s a very difficult thing to balance. And I know it is ultimately not mine to carry. I never wanted to be involved with someone that had a history of drug or alcohol use, especially not someone still using these substances to cope. We all do things, but my things are much more socially accepted. I eat to cope with stress. Nat does the opposite, often going most of the day with only black coffee in their stomach.

Love is a convoluted thing. Just a more socially acceptable drug. (I’m not talking about sex either. That appears to be a coping mechanism Nat and I are very compatible in, unhealthy as it can be at times.) When we were a couple, there were times my stomach would be in knots, my muscles tense, feeling like I could hardly take more than shallow breaths until Nat responded to my good morning texts. Only then could I begin to relax for the day. There are still days post break up that I feel that tension in my body creeping in if it has been hours since their last reply or if I am worried I have upset them (though the latter is usually in my head not reality). Likewise, I have freaked out friends and acquaintances with my manic joy, especially when I was first falling in love (or likely at that time, infatuation) with Nat.

Now I have gotten very much distracted. Suffice it to say, Nat and I are inherently flawed. We are more than aware. And yet we remain committed to each other. As friends or possibly something more in the future, ultimately as human beings stuck on this plane of existence… we care about each other and want the best for each other. That’s all there is to it- flaws and all- that is love.

Wednesday: Happy Hour with Co-workers

Wednesday I am late chit chatting with people from the cooking demo I help with twice monthly. The regular couple who attends and the chef get to reminiscing and I stick around. I feel that I stayed too long but do not wish to be rude. I don’t have a watch or my phone to glance at the time so when I return to my desk and finish my patient notes for the day I am running late for the two happy hours on behalf of work.

I rush home to pick up Nat. I burst in the door and demand they get changed as quickly as possible so we can head out. I say this slinging off my uniform and pacing the room in search of my own outfit. They ask to stop for cigarettes along the way. I am all nervous energy. We left at 4:30 when the first happy hour was supposed to start downtown which is a good 30 minute drive without traffic. Nat tells me they are irritated from lack of nicotine and from being rushed out the door. I apologize for returning with demands and being so high strung. They tell me I do not need to apologize for how I feel. They apologize for being snippy. We arrive an hour in.

Upon approaching the first table someone asked why we were so late. I signal to my outfit and say we are fashionably late. I laugh as if I hadn’t thought of turning around and bailing not even halfway through the drive out here. My coworker, Anya, who I hardly speak to sits at this table. Nat and I stand awkwardly as those sitting offer a seat but do not scoot to make room. I say I’d like to say hello to the next table. Here I find my friends and lunch buddies. People I have said more than a handful of words at a time to. I ask to sit and they make space for me. Nat pulls up a chair.

Part of the argument on the way over was Nat poking fun at my social ineptitude. Specifically, they brought up my high school reunion and how we spent the entirety of it chatting with each other only (not socializing with others). Nat had almost dragged me over to chat with people I didn’t talk to even when those people and I were in high school together. This bothered me. I thought I had successfully explained that I was happy spending that night with Nat and did not feel like I missed out on anything by not socializing. I felt patronized and damaged by their assumption that I needed to be pushed to socialize. That they knew what was best for me. Especially when being in the background without friends had been the epitome of my high school years. It was not only where I was comfortable, but what I wanted as it was ten times better with them by my side. That is was a choice of mine to spend it with them because I wanted to not because I could not bring myself to speak to others.

Here at the table surrounded by people I felt comfortable with, I blossomed. I introduced Nat simply as Nat. Usually people bring their husbands or significant others, but for whatever reason I was the only one with a plus one this time. The second Nat stepped away for a smoke it seemed as if the entire table leaned in to ask “sooo, who’s Nat?”. I knew what they meant, but I did not have time for such a lengthy story. I didn’t even want to simply say “they are a friend”. I settled on “your guess is as good as mine. They are simply Nat to me”. I’m not sure how convincing this response was since Nat held my hand beneath the table and kissed me on the cheek a few minutes later. Time passed pleasantly. Nat chatted with those around them, namely my boss and someone from the lunch group. In the lulls I spoke to the table at large. I still regret that Nat was on a cigarette break when the person next to me, unironically, referred to me as the most extraverted of all of those at the table. I am still in shock, but proud of that statement.

Eventually Anya stopped by our table. She tried to make conversation, but it was painful to watch as people returned to small talk. She is an outpatient dietitian like I am now too, however I started as an in-patient dietitian and have remained in contact with the current team mainly by joining in on group lunches. She was an outsider, and no one did much to hide that. Not even me, I’ll admit. She asked if I was still planning on going to the other happy hour across town. I was already dreading that one since it would be with the outpatient team across the Dallas area who I hardly knew, but moreso now that I had barely arrived to this happy hour (mostly for the inpatient team). I said I would stay and she left. Nat and I enjoyed the company for a while more. Once everyone had left, Nat and I stayed a while longer since Nat had ordered a second drink while the check was being divided out.

Wednesday Night: After Party

I suggested going to the arcade bar near my home to keep the night going. Though it was Wednesday night… However, on the way there, I pointed out this Irish pub I frequently passed on this route towards home that I was curious about. Nat asked if I would like to stop in. I had already passed the pub, but a couple of U-turns later we entered the establishment. It was only after ordering our first drinks that I realized I had not brought my wallet with me. I checked my phone. It would be a 9-minute drive home to grab it. I panicked, wondering what to do. When Nat returned from a smoke break, I asked if they had their wallet. They said yes and I asked if I could send them money to cover the pub but use their card to pay. They said yes but asked if I was alright because that same day I had forgotten my phone in my SUV. On the dash it sat the entire workday. Apparently, it had been the second time this week I had forgotten my phone. Oh yes, I had forgotten to bring it with me to the buffet with my mom and Nat on Sunday as well. I shook this off. I am often this forgetful.

We sipped our drinks and shared an order of fish and chips. Nat ordered a second drink as I chatted away happily sitting next to them on the same side of the table like an old married couple. Back home they poured me a drink of peanut butter chocolate moonshine. Moonshine is a recent favorite of mine thanks to Nat’s recommendation when I sent them a picture of orange cream flavored moonshine asking if they thought it would be any good. (It was.) We watched Castlevania which they were committed to have me finish this week (though we had only started it on Sunday or Monday).

Thursday: Drippy Ice Cream Cone and a Cat-astrophe (not really, I just wanted to use that pun)

The next day dragged on. I just wanted to get home to Nat. At this time, I was still trying to convince Nat to go outside with me. A walk or park was my main objective, but I settled for a burger place this day as Nat mentioned having a headache. I stayed late at work again. This time, due to an elderly patient requesting I help set up their patient portal mobile app. This is outside of my job description, but what can I say, I’m a pushover. The small burger joint, a mom and pop shop I had never been to, had closed by the time I arrived home so we settled for a chain restaurant where staff got our order wrong and I had to request it be remedied before standing in line again and ordering what my mom and brother had asked I bring back for them. One of these was a frozen yogurt in a cone for my mom. It dripped the entire way into a too small plastic cup I had requested. I realized it was too small to place the cone in upside down to avoid a mess, but after the meal mishap I did not want to be a bother. Nat almost had an aneurysm trying to prevent it from dripping on the ten minute plus drive home. As they predicted, my mom commented on how it was dripping as I practically tossed it onto her lap. After this adventure we watched more Castlevania and I fell asleep against my will.

I’m not sure if it was earlier this night or not, but here’s another memory I wish to include. My cat was snuggled up in bed with us. Nat was petting him but soon my cat began to get annoyed. He hissed and batted Nat’s hand away clearly showing he was done with the affection. Nat continued insisting though I had also asked them to stop trying to pet him. After several warnings, my cat swiped (with claws out) at Nat and ran off. I made a petty comment about my cat having given plenty of warning unlike Nat’s cat that clawed the shit out of my hand several months ago with no perceivable clue that she was about to do that to me. I had a hole in my hand! Heck, that was months ago and I still have the marks from it. I’m not sure if they are still healing or if they are scars at this point. My money is on the latter.

When this happened, Nat did not seem very concerned though I was angry. Angry because I would never want to hurt their cat and I was confused as to why she had hurt me so badly and suddenly. Now, I ask Nat if they are okay, which they say they are but they seem off to me. I decide to push and ask what is wrong to which Nat begins to move away. They had their leg between mine and I unconsciously squeeze my legs together to keep Nat from leaving. I want to know if they are upset by my comment or if I did anything else that affected them negatively. I want to understand. They yank their leg from between mine and rush down the steps from the top bunk. I am concerned and confused. I look at them and ask what happened. They snap back that I was doing exactly what I had just been complaining about. Essentially that I told Nat to let my cat leave if he wanted to but I would not let Nat leave when they wished. The realization of what I did- physically keeping them from getting out of the bed- dawned on me. I was horrified. I had not even realized what I had done. Though I meant no harm, they were right. It was hypocritical.

And I have gone through the same at the hands of others. Harmless as it was intended (though maybe not always) it does not feel good to be prevented from leaving a situation I haven’t wanted to be in. Once, a former roommate loomed over a doorway preventing me from leaving the room. Another time, I was flirting with my ex, Ivy, who held me in a tight hug from behind not letting me get free even when I panicked and bit her hand to get my point across. She claims she thought this was part of the flirting. That one gave me a mild panic attack.

All of this flashed through my mind as I realized what I had done and I immediately apologized and explained my intentions- still apologizing for my actions despite my intentions. Nat sighed and looked at me with kind eyes. They said something along the lines of “stop making me love you more!” with fake exasperation. They flashed a smile before stepping out for a smoke.

Friday: Last Few Hours with Nat

Hours later, around 4AM, I stirred to the sound of Nat pouring themselves a shot of a 120 proof moonshine we found called Blue Flame (it’s an accurate name, by the way since that is how it feels. It has no taste, only the burning sensation flickering down your throat.). I looked sleepily at them with concern. They explained that they were having trouble sleeping. I, tired but never down for the horny count, teased that there are other ways to get tuckered out. They hesitated before agreeing. We had sex. It felt like it was for function more than for passion. A function that surprisingly did the opposite. Both of us were wide awake afterwards. My first two patients of the day had cancelled, meaning I could arrive at work two hours later than usual. I mentioned I may be able to finish the four seasons of castlevania after all before they left town this afternoon. I set to watching the last season while they played Kenshii on their laptop. Right on time, I finished the last episode. They asked if I had time to take them to the gas station for a pack of cigarettes. I did.

I was late coming home from work again as the one patient I had left on my schedule ended up being much more complicated than I had expected). Today, I had two responsibilities: getting Nat to the train station and taking my mom to a medical appointment. I looked at the time and saw it would not be possible to do both. I grabbed some food from the hospital cafeteria. We had intended on going out for Indian food sometime this week, but this would have to do. And I even stopped by the pharmacy to grab Nat some more nicotine patches (we had gotten some earlier this week, but they had more nicotine in them than desired as they were step ones instead of the step twos they had been using prior to coming to Dallas). I got them a box of step two and a box of step three. I know they do not intend to stop smoking altogether, they have told me as much, however I support them in weaning down. I also got them some sour gummy snacks. Then I raced home to find my dad in the dining room with my mom. I asked if he would be willing to take my mother to her appointment. He said yes. Problem solved. (Nat did not want to take the city train and said they felt awkward about taking an uber, not to say anything about the extra cost I would incur). We ate the butter chicken I had brought and soon after left for the train station. Here we dilly dallied at my SUV until it was time for them to go. We hugged tightly and kissed farewell.

When I returned home, I remember stress eating before passing out and waking in a fright at 4:20AM, about an hour before I was to leave for the airport with my dad for a week of vacation in Mexico. I packed my bag in a frenzy and have been in a rural town in Mexico typing up several blog posts since (as well as reading books and enjoying fresh fruit and sugary snacks).

Beyond the Week with Nat

As for Nat and me, we have been texting despite the distance. They plan to get their driver’s license before I return to Dallas this Saturday. It is supposed to be the last task before they pack to leave to Tennessee. The experiment I had alluded to wayyy back at the beginning of this lengthy tale was to see how Nat and I interacted on a more normal day. This curiosity came about after Nat invited me to move with them to Tennessee. When I visit Nat neither of us have the burden of work. At least in Dallas, despite being in my parent’s home and Nat not working, it was a bit closer to how life might be with the two of us living together. It was an interesting week and before the end of it I had reached my conclusion. I told Nat before they left town that while I love them and wish to be by their side every day, that this week had made clear to me that we both have more to learn and grow on our own. That it would be rushing things to uproot my life to move with them. That if it is meant to be, it will be. They agreed.

Now, all I hope is to see them one last time before they move. Every time has felt like the last these past four and a half months since we broke up. I know it likely will not be the last time we ever see each other, just the last time it will be as frequent as two weeks apart. Once they move, we realistically might see each other once every three months. If I am honest, I am okay with that. I even look forward to it. My heart has felt like it is in two places for almost a year now (since Nat and I began speaking in earnest). I need more than a week of being in my own life to prioritize myself and move on with my life.

Nat called me their partner that week they were with me. I made it clear that I did not see them as my partner. I can not deny that we feel fated to be in each other’s lives, but like Nat often says, this could be as friends or as romantic partners and either way is fine by them. It is fine by me too. We have seen how helpful it has been to take that label off from ourselves. How the relationship changed for the better without all of that added pressure of the future. I still feel that pressure sometimes, but it is not nearly as heavy as before. I also would like to be free and open to the opportunities of singlehood. I want to be unapologetic about who I hang out with and who I desire physically, and I wish the same for Nat. I don’t want to hold them back waiting for me, though if they are uninterested in forming other relationships that is their prerogative. Theirs and mine. I am not saying I want to go out and flirt and party, only that I wish this to be something that is a possibility, and not taboo, between Nat and me. I truly want to be friends before considering ever getting back together. They told me they agree that friendship should come first though I know the both of us, not so secretly, hope to make a life for ourselves together in that mythical cabin on the lake of our mutual dreams.