Now memories that I’d thought had been neatly analyzed, catalogued and filed away are floating to the surface.

I remember that Nico and Jeremy thought I was a fool.  The cost of one gym membership blank could have paid for two or three rocks, half a dozen hits, a week’s worth of blissful oblivion.  But I knew that cold weather was on the way, and the gym, like Babylon, would get me out of the cold.  Maybe I could hook up with someone in the steam room.  Maybe I could run a little action of my own.

I’d always been a forward thinker.  Taking care of six younger brothers and sisters, I learned early how to plan ahead.

I remember the first time I saw Ted Schmidt, he was flailing around with a medicine ball.  I pegged him as a potential right away.  I was ruthless back then, and whether that is part of my nature or something that happened because of the lifestyle I led is something I leave up to the shrinks.  I know that I am still ruthless today, but my ferocity takes a different spin.  

Ted was obviously out of his league, obviously older than his circle of friends.  Easy pickings, if I took it slow.

It was a few weeks before I got the opportunity.  I remember flirting with him in Babylon.  I only wanted to share a warm bed with a warm body for a few nights.  I never expected laid-back Ted Schmidt to down half my supply of GHB in one fell swoop and end up spazzing on his living room floor.  

I split.  I called 911, but I still split. 

Our first encounter was a disaster.  His fault.

I remember waking up in the hospital, disoriented, terrified.  Ted held my hand.  He took me in.  He believed in me when I didn’t believe in myself. 

I know he still thinks I didn’t try.  I did.  I remember so many things, but I don’t remember how the vial of crystal ended up in my hands.  I do remember standing in front of the mirror, looking into my own eyes, and thinking, “This is it.  You can take it, or you can toss it.”  I took it.

If there is one thing that I learned in Group, it is that one cannot force change.  So maybe it was too soon for me.  I needed to quit for me, not just so I could free that haunted look from Ted’s eyes.  

So, our second encounter was a disaster.  My fault.

Now fate has brought us together again.

I’m trying to be a professional here.  Ted needs me as his counsellor, not his friend.  Not his lover.

But somehow I’m looking over the end of his sofa towards his closed bedroom door.  

And I remember the pressure of his fingers in my hair and the feel of his cock in my throat.

I remember the salty sweat of his skin.

I remember the way he made me laugh.

I pull the blanket tighter around my body, breath in his lingering scent, and try to will away the memories.  I will not approach the door.  I am stronger than that.  Now, we are equals.

But I will allow myself to hope.

Because maybe, this will be our season.  And the third time will be the charm.