UNANSWERED DESIRE
BY DANN DULIN
One day long ago, an avalanche of feelings were released and soared like a firestorm throughout my entire being.
What caused it? Rather, who caused it? Kim. The guy’s name was Kim. He was my cherished friend.
The question still remains today: was that feeling love, lust, infatuation, or spiritual? ….I’ll never know.
Even after nearly 40 years, I still acutely recollect that indestructible emotion that I experienced with Kim one day on a New Year's Eve get-away to Palm Springs. Before I explain that moment of bond and bliss – and eventually hurt – allow me to provide the backstory, telling you about Kim.
It was the mid-80s, Los Angeles. A couple years prior, the city hosted the Summer Olympics; pin-up boy and film icon, Rock Hudson had just died of AIDS; fear was rampant with the world pandemic, begging the questions: How do I get infected…through touch, through swimming in a pool with an infected person, through sipping a glass that an infected person drank from? Can I get it from a water fountain? It was torture, and stigma, unfortunately, abounded. It. Was. Pure. Hell.
In the 80s one could view on Saturday morning’s television, PeeWee’s Playhouse, or slip in a VHS tape of trendsetter Jane Fonda’s much-in-demand high energy aerobics, or if you want a low impact workout, play the wild and wonderful Richard Simmons directly in your own living room – (who paid me for sex, but that’s another story). The home viewing revolution had begun!
And to transport you even more into the era, on the car radio you might hear songs from the newly-released Linda Ronstadt album, “What's New.” This album of American Standards was so ultra-successful that, thank heaven, Linda cut two more matching ones. Also on the airwaves you would hear such singles as Madonna’s, “Like A Virgin,” Whitney’s, “Saving All My Love For You,” Tina Turner’s, “Private Dancer,” and “Girls Just Wanna Have Fun,” by the lilting Cyndi Lauper.
There, hopefully I’ve conquered the task of delivering you back in time, providing an engaging flavor of what my environment was like having a crush on Kim.
At the time, Kim was in his mid-20s, and a district manager of a fast food chain. He was partnered with an actor named Steve.
I was in my early 30s, and had recently decided to return to college to receive my masters in counseling. I was partnered with Mark, who was a New York lawyer and an aspiring actor (and at times, a standup). Mark and I had been together for about 3-4 years then, and Kim and Steve had recently met.
Initially, Steve was a friend to me and Mark. At one point Steve flew back home to Boston, met Kim, they fell for each other, and Kim soon moved out to The City of Angels.
When Steve introduced us, Kim and I took to one another quickly. It was easy to do as Kim was warm, open, authentic, and had an upbeat attitude. He was a bit shy, which made him even more attractive.
We soon found we had stuff in common: we both loved boy butts, which was the #1 attraction for us in other guys; we loved reflexology performed on our feet; and we liked to take travel. Several times, Kim and I took day trips to San Diego (one journey was to see Adele, a psychic) and to the enchanted town of Solvang, California. We also indulged in full body massages on a semi-regular basis to the Finland Baths in Sherman Oaks in the San Fernando Valley.
He and I loved our feet massaged so much that when we were at each other’s homes, while Steve and Mark were doing their own thing, Kim and I would flop on the couch and rub each other’s feet. Man, that felt so delicious!
When the four of us went to Palm Springs for the holidays, Kim and I were palsy-walsy for a couple of years. The evening before
that insatiable craving bombarded me, we rang in New Year’s Eve at Daddy Warbuck’s Gay Night Club in Cathedral City. We all danced up a sweat and by midnight most of us were hugging and kissing, the usual flare for this night, huh? I recall Kim and I gave each other a firm extended hug.
The next afternoon the four of us decided to hike through the dense foliage of Palm Canyon, located on an Indian Reservation. The scenic trails include trickling clear streams that run the length of mile-high palm trees and granite boulders. There’s also luscious cascading waterfalls. It’s a rather romantic and private environment.
Kim and I were lagging behind the others. Me leading the front, we stepped on rocks to cross over the water when his foot slipped a bit and he was balancing on the edge of a stone. He grabbed my forearm and said, “Whoa….” I smiled, looking back at him and he greeted me with his trademark radiant grin.
I looked into his teal colored puppy eyes as he shot back sparkling twinkles into my baby blues. There’s a moment of intense silence and frozen-in-time aura. It was everything I could do to restrain myself from locking lips with him. Primal urges washed over me. I yearned for his touch. I yearned for his tongue.
My heart pounded several seismic blows while passion surged through my veins. I became flushed with a calm restlessness. For those few seconds, I was possessed by an other-worldly spirit. It felt good. It felt scary.
We then joined up with the others, and continued hiking.
The days and years that followed were met with more intensity, but less and less of being with one another. We each became busy with our own lives.
The last time I saw Kim was in the early 90s. I was with two friends, and we were on our way to see a film at The Plitt Century Plaza Cinema in the ABC Entertainment Center in Century City. Kim was walking toward the fast-food restaurant he was managing, which was located in this open air mall.
I called from afar and began to walk toward him. No acknowledgement. Is he trying to avoid me? Nearing him, I speak up. It was as if he was a deer caught in headlights, frozen in the sudden encounter, guilt exuding out of his baby-faced pores. It was awkward but I absolutely ignored it. We exchanged a brisk soulless greeting.
I introduced him to my friends then inquired if he was going to attend my Master’s degree graduation party, which he had been invited to weeks before. He confirmed his attendance but then added, “I’ll try. Can’t promise, Dann.” I said, “Oh it’d really be nice to have you there.” He reiterated in a low unkind tone, “I’ll try.” Robotically we hugged, and Kim swiftly dashed. Couldn’t get away fast enough. I was left with rejection, disappointment, and isolation. Let me tell you, it was a long walk to the movie theatre that day.
Kim never appeared at my graduation party – and that was four decades ago.
That piercing sensation that I felt in the desert still haunts me today. My “relationship” with Kim has lasted all these years, and what a pair we make, don’t we?!
What’s appropriate here, I believe is Cyndi Lauper’s iconic ballad,
“Time After Time:”
If you're lost you can look and you will find me
Time after time
If you fall I will catch you, I'll be waiting
Time after time
Many opportune times when Kim and I were together, I nearly uttered those 3 little words: I… love… you. But that confession never passed my lips.
My god Kim, what you still do to me! I haven’t told a soul all these years, not even you…..
…until now.
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