Love them, hate them, fuck them. Usually in that order.


He's disenchanted with it.

He wants to remain faithful to his wife and children, but knows he belongs elsewhere. He wants to find a man he could love truly and genuinely, but every man he meets only makes him question fidelity. As a concept, as a promise, as a way of life.

All this he tells you over tea in a quiet bar in Vilnius. Stories of his life so far, and the life yet to be. Before he comes to a question: What's the purpose of this encounter?

Nothing, you tell him. Much like any other thing from grindr, there is no purpose. It could be the start to a grand something, or just another fleeting thing, to be enjoyed then forgotten.

So you meander from bar to bar. At each one, learning more about the other. Stories of his exes, his children, his music, his cock, his country. You laugh, the image of him becoming clearer and clearer: Of an honest man with many wants, but not the means to have them.

At the end of it all, you part ways with a long drawn-out kiss in a dark alley. As though knowing already that your paths would never again cross. A fleeting thing.

All that remains of him in your head are the lingering questions of love and fidelity. And whether it will ever be yours to have.