Tag: transformation (Page 6 of 7)

This is a repost from a Tumblr series that I called “My perfect dad.” I’m preserving these older stories and continuing to write new ones available on this site first.

My boyfriend Nick and I never agreed on how to answer the “So how did you guys meet?” question. I preferred to give half truths or vague retellings without detail. I usually went with the simple “We worked together.” It was just enough to answer the question without inviting follow ups. Nick, on the other hand, never shied away from telling the whole truth. “Brock and I were actors together in an adult film.” 

I’m a little embarrassed about my former life making the kinds of films they show in the backs of gay bars. I did it when I was in college to make some extra cash, and it was a great gig, but I never intended to make a career out of it. I certainly never expected I’d fall in love with one of my costars. But fall in love I did. Nick and I have been together for seven years, and in that time, I’ve settled into a comfortable and well-paying tech job, happy to leave my past in the past. Nick always used to say that the next film would be his last. Even after I started earning more than enough money to support us both, he kept signing on for “just one more film.” 

This is a repost from a Tumblr series that I called “My perfect dad.” I’m preserving these older stories and continuing to write new ones available on this site first.

My boyfriend and I lived together, but you’d never know it for how little time we spent with each other ever since he got that stupid computer game.  As soon as he came home from work each night, he’d go straight to his laptop and sit, hunched over and glassy-eyed, clicking and typing for hours. Whenever I’d walk by, he closed the screen. When I asked him what he was playing, he mumbled something about it being “kind of like The Sims.” When I asked if we could play together, he shooed me away, saying he wasn’t ready for two player just yet. 

This went on for a solid month, and I was getting frustrated. One night, after lying in bed for hours waiting for him to join me, I’d had enough. I stormed into the living room and slammed the laptop screen down. He looked at me like I’d just robbed him at gunpoint. 

This is a repost from a Tumblr series that I called “My perfect dad.” I’m preserving these older stories and continuing to write new ones available on this site first.

The other day, I saw a gay couple walking downtown. They were really cute. Just an everyday pair of guys dressed in jeans and polos, holding hands as they walked from the parking garage to a restaurant down the block. 

Heh. Jeans and polos. It’s been so long since I’ve worn anything like that, I can’t even remember what it feels like. Loose-fitting clothing? Yeah, that’s barely a memory for me. Once I’d earned enough money for my Son to buy me my first rubber uniform, the rest of my clothes started disappearing from my side of the closet. 

This is a repost from a Tumblr series that I called “My perfect dad.” I’m preserving these older stories and continuing to write new ones available on this site first.

Son, I’m back from the barber shop. I asked them to dye my beard gray, just like You said. I think it turned out pretty nice, but I know my opinion doesn’t matter. What do You think of the dye job, Son? 

Not gray enough? Are You sure, Son? Looks pretty gray to me. I look plenty older than You now. No one would suspect that W/we’re only nine years apart. 

Older, Son? You want me to go older? How much older? Erm, with all due respect, Son, I think I easily look 20 years Your senior. Definitely Your bearded old man, Son. Of course I am more than happy to do anything that pleases You, Son, but what more can I do to look older? 

This is a repost from a Tumblr series that I called “My perfect dad.” I’m preserving these older stories and continuing to write new ones available on this site first.

What am I looking at, Son? Who’s this a picture of? I don’t recognize him. 

It’s me? No way, Son. That’s crazy! He doesn’t look anything like me. He’s so small and young. Not an ounce of beef on him. And what’s with that haircut? Never seen anything like that, Son. What do you even call that? A fo-what? A fauxhawk? I guess that’s what the kids are doing these days. 

Now that you mention it, Son, I guess there is a little bit of a resemblance. This guy on your phone has my eyes, my nose. Maybe the forehead looks similar. Are you kidding me, Son? Playing a joke on Your old dad? 

This is a repost from a Tumblr series that I called “My perfect dad.” I’m preserving these older stories and continuing to write new ones available on this site first.

“Is this the place, babe?” 

I looked out the car window. Through the streaks of rain on the glass, I saw a rundown storefront at the end of a dying strip mall. The windows were papered over and the signage long gone, but ghosts of the lettering were barely visible above the door. An old furniture showroom, maybe? 

My boyfriend Scott grasped my thigh, giving it a firm squeeze, and then killed the engine. “This is it.”