The promise
Stuart moved into his new flat by the end of summer. He was in no haste to furnish it because he was very particular about how he wanted his new home to look. When I visited for the first time, there was a small TV from the old flat (which he replaced with a new one) in the living room, an inflatable mattress in the bedroom, and cardboard boxes in the corner.
After sex on the inflatable sex, I told him I was getting weary of the long-distant relationship and asked how he felt about it. Lifting himself up on his elbows, he plopped his chin on the one hand. “I love you, and I want to be with you for a long time. But I wasn’t sure how you felt about it.” His hand covered half of his face now as if he was trying to hide behind it. So I said I wanted to be with him for a long time, too. His cheeks instantly flushed, and he started crying into his hand.
The next night, we had sex in the living room on a blanket. Afterward, Stuart looked up at the high ceiling, then around the empty room, and said, “I wonder if this flat is big enough for two people.” The promise felt very good. I could endure daily ordeal in Germany for a bit longer, but eventually, I’d find a way to be with Stuart.