as i asked cory about what he’d been thinking in high school, and we started discussing old thoughts and old feelings, i discovered that it was REALLY nice to have someone paying so much attention to me. it was really great to have someone focusing so much attention on me, on my thoughts, on my feelings. he was making me feel important, just answering my mail, and being willing to dig up old thoughts and feelings.

in fact, we kind of used email as a chat program; writing mail and firing it back and forth as fast as possible. we stayed up almost all night one weeknight talking.

and somewhere along the line, all the thoughts and feelings we were discussing moved from talking about the past, to talking about ... now. and, at first it really scared me. it made me feel all sick to my stomach! what was this? what was this intimate conversation from someone other than michael? but.... i kept thinking about it.

and i really liked being important to someone. and it stopped mattering who it was. because... it was cory. after all, it wasn’t a stranger. this is someone i’ve known and .... loved? ... for my whole life. and after all, i wasn’t really doing anything wrong, was i? we’re just talking. no one is getting hurt, michael doesn’t know.

as soon as i had the thought that i didn’t want michael to read my mail, that i didn’t want michael to know what i was telling cory... i should have realized that there was a problem. i should have realized that it wasn’t right to be sharing all my hopes and dreams and thoughts and fantasies with anyone else but michael, no matter how unresponsive, or unreceptive, or untalkative he was being at that moment.

but i was already too far gone in loving all the attention i was getting. i could depend on cory to drop everything to answer my mail, he would tell me exactly what he was thinking at the moment, i was not an intrusion in the day. and he never made me feel selfish for wanting to demand his time and attention; he never made me feel guilty for wanting his whole attention, never made me feel like i had to be understanding. “but dear, i’m too busy at work to talk to you....” “but dear, i have to talk to my friend too, he needs me too, he’s going through rough times too....” “but dear, i need time to myself, too...” “but dear, i just don’t feel like talking as soon as i get home from work” “but dear....”

razzlefrack. how i hate “but dear”. that phrase that makes me feel like everyone else must come before whatever need or want i might have. that feeling that i have to take care of other people first, that i have to let michael take care of everyone else before he could take care of me. after all, that’s all about being a good friend, or brother, or son, is all about, right?

someone was finally putting me first. and i LOVED it. so, feeling guilty every second, wondering just how long i woudl be able to play this game with emotions.... i shared a wildly inappropriate, extremely intimate relationship with my friend, my old crush, my biggest “what if”... all over email. for an intense, exciting, heady too-long-too-short two weeks.

yeah. all this in only two weeks.

and then... michael read all my email.