After you find yourself in the company of great new friends, there are always stories that they reflect fondly upon that involve friends you haven’t met yet. For Jack’s group of friends whom I had come to call my own, the adventures weren’t just stories, they were legends. And they often involved a gorgeous, busty, and hilarious model named Lulu.
Lulu was an Australian bombshell who rose to fame with her appearance on countless magazine covers. I had been regaled with wild stories from Jack as to her wild ways and their adventures together and I was thrilled when I heard that she was coming to LA to visit.
I had returned from the Hamptons after almost three weeks away, which gave me time to clear my head about the Jack situation. I asked him to dinner when I returned and we laughed, ate, had a ball, and everything went back to “business as usual” so to speak. The next morning was a Sunday and Jack and Sam headed off to LAX to retrieve Lulu and her friend, Alexandra, who was accompanying her to the States. I stayed behind, patiently awaiting their return, while flipping through Lulu’s latest centerfold to read her newest column, “10 Ways To Please Your Man Without Using Your Hands“.
As soon as the girls walked in, they warmly greeted me with hugs and Australian chocolate. I felt like I was back in my Study Abroad days in Australia again, but this time something told me the broads I’d be studying were going to give me the kind of education I never knew I wanted.
Sunday Funday ensued and before I knew it, I was three vodka sodas deep and basically making out with the Aussie babes I had met only a couple hours prior. The day raged on, turned to night, and Jack and I found ourselves in a nightclub in the heart of West Hollywood. He looked great. I looked great. We were really vibing. I found myself flirting with a chesty bar patron when Jack pulled my arm and told me we were leaving. I said goodbye to my lady crush and headed for the door on the back patio, only to find that the bouncer of the club was re-directing everyone back through the club so they could exit out the front door for reasons I’ll never know.
I was irritated, drunk, and in the heat of the moment was having a real issue with authority figures. Instead of quelling my rebellious attitude, I succumbed to it. The patio door to leave the club was carved into a 15-foot wall that led out into the parking lot. When the bouncer wasn’t looking, I climbed atop a cocktail table and vaulted myself onto the top of the wall effortlessly (I had been working out). However, though my upper body skills were on point, my inebriation took control and I lost my balance, plummeting over the other side of the wall into the parking lot below.
Everything went black.
I woke up a few seconds – or was it minutes – later and shook myself to get my wits about me. As soon as I picked myself up to stand upright, I felt it. A severe, shooting pain in my right foot. Drunkenly, I hobbled out of the parking lot and saw a text message from Jack as to his whereabouts.
When I headed to his location, both he and Sam were lying in a deserted park, staring up at the night sky having an existential moment with sprinklers shooting off all around them. If I hadn’t been so drunk and in so much pain I would have thought the scene to be a beautiful one, but I was pretty sure my foot was broken. I made Jack call an Uber and give me a piggy back ride all the way to his apartment where he kindly put a package of frozen peas on my foot until they thawed or we decided to go to bed, I can’t recall which happened first.
After a doctor’s appointment the next day confirmed I had indeed shattered my heel, I was relegated to wearing a boot and having to transport myself around via crutches.
That night I got to thinking and couldn’t help but make the correlation that my Humpty Dumpty-inspired fall was a physical interpretation of how hard I was falling for Jack. Even after weeks apart from each other and limited communication, all the feelings I initially had for him came rushing back when we started hanging out again, and especially after he was all cute and chivalrous in taking care of me after my accident. I realized that aside from his looks and how much I enjoyed his company, he really was a good and genuine guy; qualities that are hard enough to come by at all in the dating world, but especially in LA.
I didn’t want to admit my falling in love with him, even to myself because we hadn’t even known each other a year yet, but maybe it took falling off a wall and breaking my heel to put things into perspective and make me see what was really going on inside my heart, what I was trying to hide from myself. Both falls were unexpected, happened quickly, but left an undeniable impact on my mind, body, and heart. Sure it might have been a cruel joke from fate to make me realize it in such a groundbreaking way, but maybe that’s what the hard times in our lives are all about; forcing us to see the things and deal with the things we normally wouldn’t ever be ready to accept.
The Kyle Chronicles: Keep on Fallin' | GayLifeLAJanuary 7, 2019 at 9:06 am
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