So I was hanging out with my friend Giacomo, weeping into my wine about the sad fate of my relationship with Felix Forrest. He thought that the best remedy is some sex to distract the mind, so we went out on the prowl that very night. It was hard not to think about Felix; we weren't much for going out, but I find him so beautiful, so delightful, that I really don't want anyone else. I was wearing a hot pink corduroy suit I made to cheer myself up; the good thing about eccentric and colorful clothing is that it makes it easy for interested boys to hit on you. A handsome man commented on my suit; we were passionately kissing moments later. It wasn't long before we were in a taxi on the way to his house, scandalizing the taxi driver. And its true; I forgot all about The Other Felix, at least for a little while. Our lovemaking was beautiful; we had a wonderful time. But after he fell asleep, I quietly wept on my side of the bed, because his body wasn't that body I know so well and so passionately desire, his voice was not that voice which echoes in my mind as the very sound of love.
In the morning we started talking in bed; I showed him my website and paintings when he wanted to know what it is I do, and I showed him my blog, since of course I started talking about Felix and he wanted to know what he looked like. He was enamored; he wanted to model and be on my blog, right away. So we hopped out of bed, he grabbed his camera, and got his roommate to take some pictures of us nuzzling and kissing and, well, things got out of hand. And maybe I forgot all about Felix Forrest again for a few minutes.
