The city hadn’t experienced a night this cold in months. There was no snow, just the wind that everyone complained about.
It's New Year's Day. I slept poorly, waking up constantly. It could have been the guy I was seeing and his snoring problems. It could have been the fact that he’d had three days off in a row, and yet this was the first time we’d spent a full day together, most of it spent talking about how tired he was of his current job. It was the longest time we’d spent together in months. You could say this was a relationship in its infancy, but our attraction to one another was quickly losing momentum. I knew it was coming to an end, but thought Maybe a couple more months. I sat up and looked at the alarm clock, putting my glasses on. It was 8:01. What a waste of sleeping in. Reaching out at the bedside table, I knocked my iPhone off the side and wondered if I’d woken the boyfriend. “You awake?” I said. Chris was still snoring. Waking him proved to be a fruitless effort. I decided to let him keep sleeping.
I met Chris nearly a year before on some cheap dating site. I never was the type of guy to go out, much less meet a guy in a bar. “Never ever!” A personal mantra if you will. Chris was a couple of years older and lived down the street from my office. He was taller, something I gravitated towards in other guys. He worked in television production, and the only time we would get to see one another would be after 9 p.m. or on Sunday. I had a weakness for brunettes, especially ones with hints of gray coming in at the temples. Sometimes when I couldn’t sleep, I would run my fingers through his hair wondering when I would finally go gray myself. Simple acts like this kept me busy and the waning attraction to him going, somehow. I was attracted to his classic good looks even though we had no real interests in common: movies, music, politics, none of it. I hadn’t realized how quiet and introverted Chris was at first, until later on, after our sex life had taken a turn. In the beginning, there’d been plenty of chemistry. Our first date consisted of lunch by the waterfront and him coming back to my place, throwing me on my living room floor, and sucking me off. Now our evenings consisted of him watching me play video games, talking about work and ordering pizza from down the street. We would kiss, hug, and feel each other up. What about fucking? No goddamn way. That raw sexuality I felt with him in the beginning, that first spark, was gone.
That winter, the combination of old radiators and the incredible amount of heat Chris gave off caused me to wake up in a sweat, scrambling to tear off my tee or my underwear. I had quick remedies like kicking the sheets away and throwing them off to the side of the bed or flipping the pillow over to the colder side. I couldn’t stand the idea of touching while sleeping, and having Chris that close was a challenge. The extent of our touching would be roping each others’ legs together, but there was no hand holding or cuddling. Getting close to each other felt forced.
I thought about getting out of bed and going