2020: Hindsight

I’m never falling for another dropkick again. 

The picture that was still in my photos on my phone, looked back at me with a sour vibe. As to why I still have this photo on my phone, irks me. But I can’t let go of the past and the past doesn’t want to let go of me. I remember this night, last year. It was New Year’s Eve. I had decided to go to the party my bestie invited me too. It was out in the posh suburbs, out west so strategizing my outfit was key to a good night, and not to be judged by the other attendees. 

I decided to wear my skinny chino pants, a branded t-shirt, and a sweatshirt. I settled for some sneakers. This attire you cannot go wrong since I have seen all the posh boys wear it in town and at the night clubs. The night was beginning well. I was with the bros; Damian, Jeff, Jay, and Riggs. The bros have been by my side since day one, congratulated me when I came out of the closet. 

“You’re still one of us, Gray, even if you swing the other way,” Jeff said, slapping my shoulder.

Fifty shades of gay,” Jeff piped up, from out of nowhere. 

“Who cares if you like boys,” Damian added. 

“Who’s the lucky lad?” Jay teased. 

“Anyone who’s gonna punch you, bro, I got you,” Riggs said, slapping my other shoulder. “I will make sure they are limping for days!”

That moment, a few years ago always pulls at my heartstrings. But the bros are my bros and they know I have their back regardless. I just can’t believe that last New Year’s Eve I was stupid enough to think Swithun was worth seeing. 

Swithun’s a sly bugger. He knows how to manipulate you into thinking things will be okay, when in reality, he knows that he isn’t going to be sticking around for too long. He came to that party knowing too well he was going to reel some loser in, tell them sweet little lies about how he’s going to do this and do that, make promises underneath the sun to make him look and sound cool. And once he’s got what he’s wanted – bye Felicia!

Everything I had just mentioned is Swithun to the core. Rigg calls him the Slitherin’ Swithun coz he’s like a snake, comes in without any warning and intrudes, shakes everything up then pisses off. Once the festivities died down and the bros and I went our separate ways, for some sleep. Swithun had disappeared completely. He had completely manipulated the bros into thinking he was the good sport and that I was safe with him and they liked him. 

“Swithun, bro, up to tonight?” Damian asked as the bros got into Jay’s Subaru. “Everyone’s coming round for drinks. You’re welcome to come.”

Damian looked at me with a wink, when he emphasised come. His dry-arse humour was still cute. 

“Would love to brothers, but I have to be home with my cuzzies. They all want me to chill with them tonight, will have to take a rain check on that one,” Swithun said. He turned to me. “Sorry bro, but I enjoyed last night. Your mates are pretty cool.” He leant over and kissed me on the cheek, in front of the bros. They didn’t seem to care, so I snuck a kiss on his lips. 

I watched as the bros drove off and Swithun walked off down the road. I had less than five hours to have a quick snooze because when the bros promise a party, they promise a party. 

So much happened in a year. We had lockdowns, new jobs, learnt what essential was, breakups, makeups, crying. One thing that ripped at my undies though, was not knowing what Swithun wanted. He said some believable shit on New Year’s Eve in amongst being a fun-time mate, almost to the point of a stand-in boyfriend for one of the loneliest nights of the year. Finding one of those potential boyfriends in your late-twenties is like finding a needle in a haystack. Finding one that wants to settle down and move into the next stages of life, i.e.; buying a house, being a couple, etc. is like finding Where’s Wally? while being shit-faced on three boxes of piss. 

I liked Swithun. There was just something about him that you knew, if shit turned to custard, you could turn to him and he would be able to put a sticking plaster over the wound and everything would be okay. Was I just dreaming of something better even though I knew it wouldn’t be? 

I stopped staring at the picture of Swithun and I took a swig of the beer next to me. I could still hear the party from the open window, on the side of the house. Candice was still singing out-of-tune to some one-hit-wonder pop thing. It had a good beat to it, so good I found myself toe-tapping to it. Do I try and hit up Swithun again? It’s been almost nine months since I last heard from him. His excuse was he had been busy trying to get into university again, looking after his younger siblings and just plodding through life. That would have been a few weeks before the March lockdown in New Zealand. Then things got crazy for sure. I went into my Contacts list, scrolled down to S and highlighted Swithun. I remember getting his number, sitting on that ugly-looking chaise-like couch at the New Year’s Eve party. I had good banter, good booze, good mates, and a good-looking chap, next to me. What more could a guy ask for? 

“What’re you doing, Gray?” I found myself asking, aloud. “This is the vow I just told you not to do and here you are, trying your hardest to rip a daisy apart asking the same question over and over again until it lands on the answer you so desperately want to hear.” 

I pulled out my vape, switched it on and chugged on it a few times. “Why am I so easy?”

In amongst my thoughts, I hadn’t heard the open of the security door flap against the side of the house, followed by a beasty figure stand a couple of meters in front of me. 

“Talking to yourself is a sign the lockdown turned you into a loose nut,” the figure said, a sneaky chuckle pushing through. It was Jay. 

“Lost the plot, many moons ago, bruv,” I said, chugging on the vape. 

“Didn’t we all, during the lockdown?” 

“Yeah,” I said, looking back down at my phone. 

“You thinking about last year?” Jay asked, sitting down next to me. He’s a little older than me, sees me as a younger brother. He clenched my knee with the palm of his hand. 

“Unfortunately,” I said. I pulled the phone to his face. “See this picture? He was so adamant that everything was okay. New Year’s Day forward, things were just a piece of shit.”

I was holding back tears that had already cried for Swithun. 

“Bro,” Jay said, giving me a bear hug. “You’re a strapping fine lad who hasn’t found his man yet, so don’t give up hope. Swithun though sucked us all in and made it clear that he was legitimate. If I knew he was going to hurt my bro, I would have nailed him to the wall and thrown darts at his bum-hole face.”

I snorted. 

“All I’m saying is whatever you had with Swithun was probably only going to be a one night stand. I’m not trying to be rat shit either bro, just trying to cheer you up. There is a guy out there for you,” Jay said, quietly. He slapped my shoulder. “You going to come in for the countdown? We’re going to hit town afterwards.”

“I’ll be in soon,” I said, distantly. I stared into the ground for a few moments, forgetting about my initial thoughts. The booze had already corrupted me for the night. 

Jay got up off the bench and headed inside, whacking the wall with the security door. 

It was almost eleven-thirty. I could hear Jay yelling something from the kitchen, followed by Candice squealing that Five had come on. I love Candice. She embraced me the minute she saw me. She said she knew all along, that night at a random party, the bros and I went too. In the background, I could hear the faint shrills of Candice’s rendition of Five’s Let’s Dance. Whoever was playing the music, I was enjoying their beats. I remember when this song came out, it was coming to the end of their run in the music business but still, they were banging hot and pumping out the jams. 

The vow to not fall for another dropkick again was playing on my mind. Maybe I had to change my game tonight when we hit the nightclubs. Maybe I should just not look tonight and enjoy myself. Maybe I should just get tanked and just forget about anything to do with guys. The maybes were playing on the mind, hard. 

I sculled back the last of my can, squashed it and threw it in the recycling, switched off the vape, and headed inside. I was going to walk into 2021 with a clear head, no boys and no drama. Once I set foot inside, I was going to be present for my homeboys and girls, and not Swithun. He had his chance. 

Eleven-forty. 

I entered the lounge and the boys and girls were lounging on the couch and armchairs talking about tonight and cheering Candice on, with her abysmal singing to Five. I knew she was butchering the song for laughs. That’s what Candice did. 

“He made it!” squealed Candice, into the microphone. She dropped the microphone, jumped the coffee table and into my arms. 

“You know, I’ve been here all along,” I joked. “I’ve been outside.”

“Thinking about that twat of man?” she asked, standing on her own two feet. “He was a jerk to you. Do you want to fall for jerks? We are entering 2021 on clean slates and leaving the trash in the past. You gave him heaps of chances, bro.”

Eleven-fifty. 

Ten minutes left of 2020, the shittiest year in ages. Candice ran out into the kitchen to pick up everyone a can and divvied them out to everyone. The plan was to enter 2021 drunk and excited. But was I going to be excited? No, because, bang on eleven-fifty-five, I received a text. 

I miss you, babe. Can we start again?

I stood there for a couple of minutes and contemplated. I thought to myself, Swithun, things have changed. Time has changed. People have changed. Have a good life. 

I put the phone back into my pocket and looked at my mates, grinning. 

I vow I will never fall for a dropkick again.