The pretty boy, that was my first impression of him. The man after my brooding writer disappeared from my life. Only a few will go down as interesting enough to remember, and he is one of them.

The pictures he showed were never enough to get a good look at him, just beautiful features and haunting eyes. It was those eyes that kept me talking; they had a mischievous look to them.

It was a lazy Sunday afternoon and our first conversation lasted 5 hours. I still think it’s crazy that people will tell so much of themselves in such a short time. As for the pretty boy, he fast became known as Saint Switch. Such a high level of intelligence and imagination and a twisted dark side that had me intrigued. It was natural to continue this tease with emails. And so the ritual of the “morning email” began. A rush was felt every time you would see his name in the inbox, wondering what smutty things he came up with now. It soon began to include the more G rated material, a joint effort in trying to learn as much as we could about each other.

Then came the phone calls, which were a little stressed. But we kept going, learning more and more. This worried me; I had not been completely honest with him about something quite important. I knew I had to come clean, not for my benefit, but so he wasn’t getting screwed around, especially by me since I had started to become fond of him.

I knew what was at stake telling him, but it’s just not my style to deceive. I wrote one of the hardest emails, exposing myself completely, leaving nothing left but a naked shell asking for understanding. But fully realizing that I was wrong to expect that, and releasing him from any obligation to me. I sent it to him late in the evening, not expecting much of a response at all, but anticipating having to answer some difficult questions.

Saint Switch emailed me back at the crack of dawn. He was disappointed by my deceit; hurt that someone he was getting to know hid such things. But the part of his email that will stay with me forever was “I’m not going anywhere”. There was a mixture of surprise and happiness. I knew I had a lot to answer for, but his response I was not prepared for.

We talked about it, ran the subject into the ground and came out as we had been before the confession. Nothing much had changed, and I had a higher level of respect for him. I didn’t have a way to express how much it meant to have someone accept all that I am, and all that I had been through.

But not everything remained the same…

The calls became less, as did the emails. People’s lives can get crazy busy, and driven individuals lose themselves in it. Too much time passed and I became jaded towards the situation. I felt guilty for putting on him my own rules of how this thing should go. I think he felt that and pulled away even more. I lost myself in someone that I had no real knowledge of, wanting the attention and getting frustrated when it wasn’t delivered. It started “hot and heavy” and was now petering to a friendship, if that. I saw all this and quickly put a stop to it. Feeling silly that I would get carried away over the thought of this stranger, one I wasn’t even sure about. So I dusted myself off, made my apologies and carried on. Thinking all was over with Saint Switch, he called, and wrote an email or two, pulling me back in. But this time my head was clear and I did not take the whole thing too seriously.

A wise man once told me, “welcome to the internet!”. I think I got carried away with the thought of my words being in “someone’s head”. But I also think I was being played with, a charmer of the first degree. I’m not naïve and can read situations quite clearly. This wasn’t going anywhere.

But my curiosity was getting better of me. How could it not be, after talking with him for two months? And perhaps he would make an amazing friend? So I extended an invite for adventure. A Sunday afternoon of laughing and travel, doing what we had in common, photography. I wasn’t expecting an answer, let alone a “sounds like a great idea”.

It was a fun time, meeting him. My curiosity fulfilled, not sure if he was everything I had made him out to be. But the man in front of me was kind, fun and perhaps showed more of his personality in a few moments then the whole two months. Then he showed a high level of trust, he posed for me, letting a “stranger” take control of his image. I could never betray that trust, so how I thought of the situation changed. If I was going to use him as a model I couldn’t have any game-playing going on.

I asked him later how he had felt, and his response was similar to how I saw it. On my end, photographing him is an intimate experience for me, through all of it. And I need him to be comfortable to allow that kind of intimacy; if he holds back then it is useless. I found him more attractive now then I did then, but I look at him differently, not sexually for me, but sexually for art.

I felt a bit sad that it was ending, the fantasy. He doesn’t see the same Kate as on that Sunday two months ago, and I can’t “see” him the same on this Sunday. We both offered friendship to each other. And only time will tell. I do wish for a confidant, that man you can call on, for a ear and a good laugh. And I feel close to Saint Switch, but then again I’m coming from a place where I allowed him to become more than a stranger. I can’t guess how he thinks, nor do I want to. This whole experience was new to me, and I made my mistakes. Now I’m comfortable and have to see if the both of us have things to learn from each other. And if not, I am proud of myself for doing it, the whole thing, ending with some brilliant pictures that I can look back on and smile, wondering where life took that fantastic man?

I learned that this journey is not much of one if you can’t be everything you are. And for that I thank my pretty boy.

For those in need
For those who speed
For those who try to slow their minds with weed
Sunday

For those with guilt
For those who wilt
Under pressure
No tears over spilt milk
Sunday

Yeah, it will be ok
Do nothing today
Give yourself a break
Let your imagination runaway

Sunday - Sia