A Perfect Week, Part I
I spent one solid week with Brent in New Jersey before deciding to drop everything and move to California to date him seriously. At that point I’d known him for several years. We dated briefly in Philadelphia before he moved to Los Angeles. We knew we loved each other but we hadn’t been able to pursue a relationship wholeheartedly because he had serious baggage. I didn’t know it at the time but when we met he was in a polyamorous relationship with two women. One of the womem had a son, making them a family of four. He kept the details of his life from many people, even his mother.
When he finally shared his unusual lifestyle with me I was shocked, and then pissed, that he’d kept it from me. There was one point when he told me he couldn’t bring me to his apartment in the wee hours of the morning because he lived with two women that he had sex with in the past and it would be disrespectful to them. I assumed they were just roommates whom he probably had random hookups with over time. It never occurred to me that they could all be in a full-blown romantic relationship with each other. Brent tried to do damage control. He reasoned that when we met they were broken up, but still living together for the sake of finances and the child. I believed him.
In February 2017 they were all going their separate ways for good. He was getting out of the messy situation that kept us apart. I could see a light for us at the end of the tunnel. While each point of the triangle was making their respective division, Brent planned on making a trip to the east coast to get away from the drama and toxicity of the dying relationship. I knew he didn’t have much to offer as he was fresh out of a breakup and unemployed, but I loved him and so I hosted him for seven days in my neck of the woods.
The trip got off to a rocky start. He missed his flight because “the girls,” as he often referred to them, had left him with the responsibility of seeing the child off to school and he missed his original flight. Brent arrived in New Jersey just after Valentine’s Day. Coincidentally my grandmother was flying into the same airport around the same time and so my dad picked them up together. That was the first time they met each other.
I remember excitedly waiting at home for my father to bring my love to me. When they arrived it was surreal seeing him in the foyer of my parents’ house. I couldn’t believe he was actually meeting my family (incidentally, just how I like it). It was the start of the seven days that would solidify my feelings for him, making me fall deeply in love.