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In the Shadow of a Tree

Late that summer, John and I took a ten nation tour of Europe. Neither of us had been abroad, and it was an exciting time. I had to do many things by myself, because John was rather timid in this new environment. Several times he stayed at the hotel.

But still, we were together when we saw Harrod's, the Louvre and the Je de Paunne, Capri, Westminster Abbey, and St. Mark's in Venice. We illegally walked on top of the walls outside the Schoenbrunn palace in Vienna, and I held John and kissed him in the shadow of a tree.

In return, John decided to develop a relationship with the tour guide, Denise. I was irate. I didn't really believe that John was bisexual, as he claimed. I just thought that his Catholic middle-class Italian-American upbringing had left him conflicted about his homosexuality. He couldn't bear for all these new acquaintances to think that we were lovers.

However, this casual and somewhat hypocritical liason was to blossom into
an expensive transatlantic affair. I moved back to my mobile home just before Christmas of 1978. The next spring, Denise came to visit John and he hosted a party for his closest friends. Sitting at that table, with John expecting me to pretend that I was just a friend was too much. I terminated our relationship the next day. But there had been months of happiness, and for that I was grateful.

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