Nathaniel Feldmann

Hungry for Love: Dinner

Hungry for Love: Dinner is the sunset in this beautiful story of two souls yearning for love; full of heartache, wonder, and lust.

A pit had grown in my stomach. An aching pain I mistook for hunger.

After our second date, Andy and I spent all our free time together. After work, he’d come over for dinner. Sometimes he’d call me over when he needed to take a break from the dark room: a quick beer on the rooftop, a view over Bushwick, Manhattan glittering like the stars in the distance. Our sweaty bodies drawn together, our kisses accompanied by the wail of sirens, the rush of the city. We spent the weekends in bed. Our hands would collide in bowls of popcorn, some series playing on my laptop, my head resting on his shoulder, our toes touching underneath the covers.

When apart, we sent each other jokes and memes, which flowed into real conversations, the boys that broke his heart, and the ones I wouldn’t let in. Like wow. I put so much into words I’d never been able to express before. This sweet southern boy got me to see another side of life.

Andy was all I craved. It must’ve been love.

But he rarely spent the night, running off to the studio. He’d send texts before I’d go to bed; couldn’t get away from thoughts of me. Still, I wished he’d have kept an extra toothbrush in my bathroom, or stored a pair or two of those pastel undies in the drawer I emptied especially for him. Call me hopeful.

Maybe I should’ve lowered my expectations; we were just fooling around. I guess that’s what it could be called. Maybe I was just fooling myself.

By our third week, and after countless dates, I’d pushed the boyfriend talk to the back of my mind. I was practically running away from the discussion. Don’t get me wrong, it’s not like I didn’t want to have it. I just couldn’t imagine how to start the conversation. Awkward to say like, “hey, want to be my boyfriend?” What if he just wanted to keep it casual, open? For all I knew, he’d leave by the end of summer.

My fear of pushing him away was legitimate. Suffocating him, asking for too much. I still did the typical boyfriend things: the cutsie check-ins, getting to know his roommates, surprising him on his lunch break. I even went above and beyond, dedicating time to dust off my drafting board and unused high-precision mechanical pencils to draw up plans for a partition that would finally give him the privacy he deserved. Just enough for us to lay on his new mattress and fuck without fear of his roommates walking in, not like Andy cared, he was always free and so secure.

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