In honor of Jordan

He was my sanctuary, but suicide stole him away.

In September 2021, I matched with him on a dating app. We chatted through messages a bit.

He was sweet, interesting, creative & wicked smart.

The only catch was, that he was only looking for an “open” relationship. Although it clearly said that on his profile, he was quick to be sure I had read that part.

Early in the conversation, he asked, “Are you open to… well, being open?”

Being exclusively monogamous my entire life, that was a challenging question to answer, and I told him so.

There was something about this man. A depth of acceptance and open communication that was rare. So, when we talked about meeting the first time, I said yes.

Our first date was at his house. He made the most amazing white pizza & we watched a movie and talked for hours. Somewhere around 2am, I reluctantly got in my car and drove home.

From that night on, we spent time together when our schedules matched up.

Twice, I broke things off with him. Each time, he accepted my statement that what I was really looking for was an exclusive, monogamous relationship… without any pressure or attempts to sway my decision.

We remained friends during those in between times & we’d talk about men I was interested in or had gone on dates with. He was genuinely interested and would talk through the pros and cons of each possibility.

He was a musician, an artist. His knowledge of all things glass, especially antiques, was breathtaking. His eyes would light up when he talked about something new he had found at a flea market that he’d bring home, clean up and resell online.

There was a softness to him. His smile and gentle laugh came easily. He often made comments about feeling, “lucky” to have me there.

I knew there were other women he was seeing, but when I was with him, his full attention was only with me. Jealousy had no place in our relationship.

He was so clear in expressing and holding to his boundaries. I knew exactly where I stood with him at all times. It was both refreshing and disorienting. No games, no manipulations, no vagueness, no promises of something other than what we had both agreed to.

My boys met him when he came to my house to go with us to a school concert. After the concert, he & I made dinner together. We laughed as we were figuring out what to make and my boys said they hadn’t seen me smile like that in a very long time.

There was an easy flow to our interactions & that night, in the kitchen, was no exception.

He never told me I was beautiful or hot or any of the typical, mundane comments. Instead, he’d react to a picture I’d sent with, “saucy” or “cayute”! He’d often tell me how lucky he felt to receive the pics and to spend time with me. It somehow felt more genuine instead of a typical line. He was expressing true emotions instead of saying what he thought would get him something.

He had so much love to give & helped me heal so many past hurts & traumas.

He was so much more than “just a friend” or a lover… I struggle to find the right labels to fit what we shared. Not having a set label seems very appropriate for him though.

At some point in the summer of 2022, his doc changed his anxiety medication.

The last time we were together, in the end of June, he was uncharacteristically distant.

We went hiking, looking for mushrooms. We had a great time, but there was clearly something off.

He told me about the med change & said it was really wiping him out. He was sleeping a lot & just wasn’t feeling like himself. The doc told him it would get better. They told him to keep taking the new meds and just wait it out.

On Monday, he told me through text that he was starting to feel better & was hopeful that things were finally leveling out. We talked about me making him some lasagna soon & he was enthusiastic about looking forward to that.

Some time Wednesday or Thursday, things obviously took a horrible turn for the worse & he took his own life.

We both knew our relationship was temporary, at least the intimate part of it. We were friends. That wouldn’t change, but he agreed, one day, when I found someone I wanted to be exclusive with, we’d retain the friendship without the playtime.

As I reflect on all the quiet moments. The seemingly millions of conversations. The ways he comforted me when I was stressed. The excitement we shared when we spotted some Reishi’s growing along a path…

There is an overwhelming feeling of gratitude for the gifts he brought to my life within the grief of his loss. He healed pieces of me that I wasn’t aware needed healing. He set the bar for any future relationship I’ll have pretty damn high.

As a woman with a history of physical and emotionally abusive relationships, he demonstrated in every moment, that there are men in this world incapable of violence or manipulation. More importantly, there are men who know how to appreciate and treasure the women in their lives.

I am grateful for the time we shared, grateful for the gift that he was.

I wish beyond words, that he could’ve seen just how amazing he was & that the meds he was taking would’ve helped him instead of pushing him into the abyss.

I grieve for his family and for the women who had the honor of receiving his focused attention.

There’s a jar of spicy pear jam hidden in the back of my pantry that I saved to take him the next time we got together… not sure that’ll ever be opened. We had future plans, damn it!