This Side of Austin (part one)

The trip to Austin was thoroughly exhausting. I shouldn’t have stayed away for so long. My next trip, heaven permitting, won’t be nearly as packed with things to see and people to do; I won’t be so frantic. I was especially nervous about Daniel meeting my family. It’s been a short time, but we have made such an investment already. And, an investment, at least in my world, is often synonymous with a commitment.

Herein lies our problem: commitment. It’s not what you think. It appears that neither Daniel nor I have any problems with commitment, per se. To what extent, however, is a commitment also an exclusively faithful union? I seem to be having difficulties in the area of fidelity. Again, this is not what you think. Or is it?

In the course of our four months, I have had a few opportunities to cozy up with other guys via flirting, dancing, etc. Not surprisingly, this bothers Daniel. In my not-so lucid reality, it may bother me more. I’m learning about me, and that’s scary. Although this has never been a problem in the past, I fear that I’m not able to see that all-important boundary. How close is too close with a not-yo’-boyfriend brotha’?

For example, there’s a guy with whom I believed to have made some sort of coincidental connection. A charming, forty-something, Israeli silent-type (I can’t believe it either) once struck up a conversation in the Whole Foods at Columbus Circle. I believed the encounter to be innocent enough until I ran into him again at un Upper West Side bar. There, he was clearly flirting. I confess; I was charmed. Mea culpa, mea culpa, mea maxima culpa. He informed me that he would be at a Shabbat function the next evening. Daniel and I had already planned on intending this event. I was elated.

From the very beginning, Daniel has been privy to my chance encounters with Eli (the silent-type). I told Daniel immediately that we would probably see Eli the next night. What I didn’t anticipate was that my boyfriend would also see my joy at the attention I received from the stranger. It was probably the latter that hurt him the most.

This is just one of … more than one scenario. We haven’t escaped my destructive delight at the passes that other men make. This can’t be good for us. Am I too used to flirting, as a formerly long-time uncoupled one? Am I looking for something that I’m not getting? Or, am I just an asshole? Now there’s some shit for thought.