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” I wasn’t prepared for the stifled sobs I heard at the other end of the line.“Your GPS blanked out in the Chicago River. I didn’t know until I came in yesterday. I thought you were dead,” she said through the choked voice that meant she was crying. “I called Jordan and he’s on his way to Chicago.” The calm control of her words belied the emotion I could hear in her voice. I don’t remember anyone caring about me like that.“I wasn’t conscious,” I said. “I came to my senses enough to call you just now. Really, I’m okay now, but apparently I’ve been out of it for a day.”“Thirty-five hours,” Riley whispered softly. “Dag, I thought I’d lost you.”“Not this time,” I said. “But it was a close call. The big guy who brought the laptop to our office decided he wanted my computer in trade. He grabbed my laptop and dumped me in the river. Kiddo, I thought I was done for, too.”“Where are you now?”“I’m with a friend who hauled me out of the river and nursed me through the fever,” I said looking at. A compelling desire to establish my identity didn’t quite work out for our relationship. I started spending more time apart, at my desk and developing networks, and it wasn’t long before we drifted apart. Post heartbreak, work was my rehab, and I didn’t shy away from an odd one-night stand. What a glorious time to be a practicing feminist! Yet, something was missing. I ached for more, from my life, my work. The adventure began with relocating to London, to study and make new friends, to learn and make mistakes...but to explore sexuality was nowhere in the plot. I was introduced to a free-spirited Balkan dancer at an English pub at Islington. We got on famously, and among other things, discussed The English Patient. We flirted, and next thing I recall was saying yes to: ‘Can we meet for coffee?’.In the book of life, is there a chapter on chemistry between two same-sex people, and how does one decode it? I was trailing breadcrumbs—started with rummaging through memories of my past. As.
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