Love Walter: Surface Relationships Also Resurface

Love Walter

Dear Walter,

How do you handle dealing with someone you used to date or hookup with?

—Dating And Dodging

Dear Dating And Dodging,

Ever since I’ve started writing online, the ghosts of relationship’s past resurfaced. 

One day, I ran into an old fuck buddy in DC while I rushed to catch a bus in designer clogs. Imagine me sliding in the hood in $600 shoes. 

“I know you’re busy headed to work or something but I just want you to know that I’m sorry,” he said. 

I didn’t have the heart to tell him that I wasn’t going to work at 2:30 in the afternoon. 

At first, I didn’t recognize him. I stood there frozen behind Celine shades. He blended into the neighborhood far better than I could. Wearing baggy jeans and oversized t-shirts were staples in urban environments. Dressing hood and acting the part took some cultivation. And I’ve never aspired to the aesthetic. 

But I waited for him to finish his awkward ass monologue. We did have some great sex. Fucking outside while I held a tree. And the time, he fucked me in front of the refrigerator light. I had a picture of his penis on my phone for months as a keepsake—until my boyfriend saw it. 

“Who is that and why are you guys outside?” He asked. 

“That’s my old fuck buddy,” I said. “We’re old news.” 

“Well, he has a huge dick,” he said. “That must have hurt.”

“Don’t compare,” I said. “I prefer your penis. It’s the perfect size.”

It’s awkward having an open discussion about penis size with your guy. I don’t what him to feel like he doesn’t measure up. Men can be quite insecure regarding their private parts. 

I used to fuck this one dude in Brooklyn, down the street from where I lived. He became angry at me, calling me a “drunk mean girl,” because I slipped and said his penis was smaller than I anticipated. He threw me out at 5 am with a bottle of Bacardi in tow. It was fucking freezing. 

Yeah, those were some good times.

But back to DC— My former fuck buddy left me with a nugget of encouragement before I left to board the bus. “Keep writing,” he said. “And I’ll keep being the stranger in your stories.” 

At least he had conviction. I can’t believe I spent this whole bus ride thinking about him. What did that mean? I guess it’s nice to stop thinking about my boyfriend for once. 

I’ll take his advice and keep writing. And I’ll leave him and others anonymous because I reveal so much truth. That’s the least I can do. Who wants to be sued? But if you sue me you may end up disappointed.  

All I have left are my stories. And they will be told. 



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