Category: Falling in Love

50,000

~ Harlan Didrickson

Dearest Readers,

My blog struck a milestone yesterday evening.

With Rodrigo at my side I checked the number of hits my blog has received since I started writing it back in 2008.

And there it was: 50,000+.

I turned to Rodrigo and smiled broadly.

“It’s at 50,000 isn’t it?” he asked.

“Yes, Rodrigo, it is, thanks to you?”

“Me,” he asked.

“You’ve inspired me like the others. Without inspiration I couldn’t write.

“And without readers I’d never be read. And that’s a writers lifeblood: readers reading.”

Thanks to each and everyone that collaborated to make this milestone a reality.

On to the next milestone, 75,000!

Loving Men-Age

~ Harlan Didrickson

You know, I don’t care about age to be honest. I enjoy someone who can teach me something, someone I can have a great conversation with, just being able to be in someone’s presence and feeling perfectly happy.

Loving Men-Distinction

~ Harlan Didrickson

The process of loving men are distinctions.

The evolving relationship by which Rodrigo now find ourselves has finally coalesced into distinctions: Curiosity, attraction, passion, and intimacy.

Our curiosity began on a dating app. Rodrigo was interested in my writing, so I sent him a link to my blog. Rather than reading it from the end, Rodrigo began reading it from the beginning. He wrote, “I think I’ve gotten to know you by reading what you’ve written. You’re a very talented writer and passionate man.”

rodrigonew2Our attraction was launched over a Friday night dinner at Sea Level, an oyster bar/seafood restaurant in Charlotte. We sat at the bar and enjoyed dinner. Rodrigo is an agile 5’7″ tall, and a lean 140 pounds. But what attracted me to him were his eyes: almond-shaped and pupils surrounded by milk chocolate. His bright smile spread across his face when we laughed. And we laughed a lot. He often said that he was attracted to my laughing and smiling which highlighted my high cheekbones and strong jaw; but it was my eyes, blue, which also smiled when I smiled.

Our passion was ignited by the first kiss, in my car after dinner. It was a simple closedrodrigonew3 mouth kiss, lacking any compromise. But the more frequent the dates, the more frequent the kisses. We have now kissed millions of times and it’s hard to believe that any of them were similar in any way. The flames of our passion were fueled by obstacles: buttons, snaps, zippers, shoulders, denim, and buckles.

Our intimacy is now the ease and comfort of understanding each others’ body. There’s still the passion, the obstacles; we still have attraction; our curiosity is seen by our wandering hands and lips.

There are distinct distinctions of loving men. The joy is in their discovery and the discovery of them together.

Loving Men-Prime

~ Harlan Didrickson ~ 1 Comment

Like prime numbers, so am I isolated from others.

aa-nothingPrime Number: A natural number greater than 1 that has no positive divisors other than 1 and itself.

Before I met Rodrigo I was a natural number. Alone, in the company of myself and ostracized from any other. Odd and alone.

Rodrigo made me an integer: an even number: 2 which can now be divided by 1.

Now as a 2, Rodrigo and I are no longer natural numbers. We’re not alone.

There is a natural beauty in a Prime Number.

But 2?

In 2 there are infinite divisors giving us perpetual computations.

And that is natural grace.

Loving Men-Escalation

~ Harlan Didrickson

When you hit black ice, even in relationships, don’t slam on the breaks, but be patient, and steer yourself into the skid thus facing it.

Escalation: To increase in attitude, magnitude, etc.

A lot of life escalates: Arguments, car wrecks, Love, love-making, sex, etc. Not all escalation is bad however.

couplesLast night Rodrigo and I escalated. We went further than we’d ever gone before. We hit that black ice and steered towards each other, feeling a definite sense of panic, but also a sense of relief to simply let go, and careen, silently, except for moans, towards an inevitable end. Not a crash, but more of an intersection. Last night we escalated.

When you’re driving down the familiar back country road of your bedroom, the only light coming through the tree-like slats of your window, a midnight moon silvered byblackice trees, you know the road like the back of your hand, and then it happens, the skid, the loss of control, the giving up to happenstance, the thoughts of demolition, of crashing, flailing into an abutment, or rail, or, like Rodrigo and I, into each other.

But the crash into Rodrigo isn’t a single crash. No, it’s a repetitive coupleskissing1crash. Like cymbals in a marching band or drums in a drum line. It’s a repetitive crash like an automatic weapon, which, when it ends, makes you sweat, exhausted, and, frankly, happy to be alive.

An escalation doesn’t always have to be negative. An escalating skid on black ice covering familiar roads will end in a collision. Hopefully, just like Rodrigo and I.