I met Christopher in a gay.com chat room in April of 2000. I was living in an apartment in Ann Arbor with my ex-boyfriend Mark Adams. Chris lived in Windsor, Canada; he worked in a hospital. We hung out a couple of times, and I visited him for a few days. I remember that the sex was great; he had a Prince Albert; and he made great coffee. I remember he enjoyed heterosexual porn, just like I did. And I remember giving him an awesome blowjob in his car. I left my trench coat at his place, and he was nice enough to drive out and return it to me. He was thoughtful, and handsome, and he's a great guy. I think I remember that he created some kind of weight loss program, but don't quote me on that.
But things between Chris & I didn't work out, and I think most of that was because I didn't want it too. There was an incident that really bothered me, but I think in the end that it was just an excuse. Perhaps I was afraid or just not ready. I'm not sure. But I don't regret anything where he's concerned, except maybe losing touch with him. An ex-bf of his contacted me (also on gay.com) a few years later and said that Chris talked about me, and that he was sure that he wouldn't mind me calling him, but I lost his phone number before I had a chance.
Here are the poems that relate to Christopher:
01/24/06 THE EYES OF STRANGERS