2001-06-08 :: 9:29 a.m.

Tallboy's brother's party was swanky. Outdoor garden party, tri-level, grape vined, Pimms punch with mint leaves, the works.

Oh, that and about three hundred gay men. It was Fire Island, relocated. Plenty of zest, but what to do with it? I have never been in a crowd of that many beautiful men in my whole life. It was odd, to say the least.

Laurie and Ruby were there and we got drunk on the punch and Tallboy was being pleasant enough but all I could think about was the ring on my finger. Hang on, I'll get to that in a minute, and we had this insanely good cake called "red velvet" from Spring St. Bakery and I've never tasted anything quite like it.

Before the party, I went to dinner with Tallboy and I was trying to keep my game face on, you know, like try to keep up appearances but I honestly wasn't into it. And I felt like wrecking shit, you know? Like getting bombed and trashing the joint and just going on a spree of sorts. And I said to him, "I feel like going crazy tonight," he was all, "Not my style." Wah wah wah. So I knew right then and there that this was a relationship going nowhere.

I told him, I'm not sleeping over. And that was primarily because deep down inside I wanted to go home and talk to RSE. Of course.

So blah blah blah, happy birthday Tallboy's brother, yummy cake, I'm outta here at 11:30.

I got home and I was nervous. There was no message from RSE and he promised he'd call, so I called his house and Dirty, his roommate, answered. He has never been so pleasant to me over the phone before, genuinely asking me how I was and stuff. So I clearly assumed the worst. He told me RSE was over Leavitt's house.

I went to bed.

The phone rings at 1:30. RSE. I pick up and he's a little tipsy, but the gist of it was this: that he told his friends about how he felt. That they weren't mad at him for keeping it a secret. That he knows he doesn't have to lie or keep stuff from them anymore. That he's sorry I had to lock up my diary on account of him. That we're going to Florida at the end of July so he can talk to his parents about the issues he has, and so that I can get a tan.

That he told his friends about our "ceremony" in my kitchen the other night. He showed them the ring around his thumb and told them that we "married" each other. And it felt awesome that it's not a secret. And that it doesn't have to be.

He promised me that night, when he put the ring on my finger, that he would never leave me again. And he told all of his friends this. And I feel verklempt that they felt verklempt. And that no one harbors any ill will towards anyone and everything is going to be OK. Because they all understand. And most importantly, he understands his own heart now.

I've got a right-thumb-ring husband, yo. He's the best thing in the world.

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