A year later, December 31st, almost midnight
Fred’s party was ridiculously crowded, yet again. This time, though, I was there with my boyfriend, Nelson Agnew, a man who’d been patient time and again as I muddled my way to a comfort level of the kind of relationship that worked best for us.
There’d been other men—for both of us—but that had been okay. It turned out that we liked it that way every now and then, though we were both content with each other, and the s*x was still hot.
What was even better was having someone around who got me and didn’t care that I wasn’t perfect. I didn’t realize that was something I could yearn for, that I had been wanting all my life. I’d never gotten that kind of love or devotion from my family, but Nelson gave it to me every day. I was strangely humbled
