I cover a lot of ground in this second (and final) installment of Alyx Confidential: what it feels like to lose a longtime client, and whether a relationship can be “real” within this space.
What an arrangement can look like, and beautiful connections with men I rarely see.
This post is a celebration.
It’s bittersweet but positive, and it’s human. It’s also a little long.
I’ve typed out the transcript below, and you can always listen to it through the in-app podcast feature.
But if you have five minutes, I’d watch it. It’s the only way to feel the energy.
This means a lot to me, and I really want to share it with you.
(Also read: Notes of Him)
So today, I’m going to answer two questions at once in the same train of thought: Is it possible to have a real relationship with somebody within the client / escort dynamic? And have you ever grieved the loss of a client? The answer to both is yes. I’m a very relationship-oriented professional, if that makes sense. This is actually the first time in six years I haven’t been in some sort of arrangement. And most recently, I said goodbye to the man I talk about in the post linked below. (Notes of Him) After ten years, life took him in a different direction. I literally have dreams about this person at night, and they all call back to experiences we shared. It is entirely possible to have a great deal of affinity for somebody within this space, and have it be a very “real” relationship that doesn’t break containment. You know what it is, and what it isn’t. Neither person wants to own the other party. Neither person wants to replace anyone in the other person’s life. But you have this thing that is rare and based in wanting to enjoy life together, and build each other up. And the transactional part of it is what keeps it safe. We were additives to each other’s lives for so long. We started out as everybody else does. But then in 2021, or 2022, when I got into that exclusive arrangement for a couple of months… after that ended, he swooped in, and we struck up a non-exclusive arrangement that lasted until a few weeks ago. And we would get together and just talk about my startup stuff. We would get together and do lunch. We went on walks. It was so fluid, and very special, and I miss it. I miss him, and I miss the dynamic. I understand the value of the stolen hour. And I love it. I love the fact that people have to make time to spend. (I don’t think “love” is the right word. I should say that I appreciate it, and I respect it.) And it’s also worth pointing out that you can have an amazing rapport with somebody—and connection to somebody—you see once a year, or every four months. What was different in this situation… a number of things were very unique, one of which was he just had the ability to spend this time with me. And not everyone does. I mean, yes, I’m grieving. But I’m not lost in the grief. And honestly, I wake up every day happy to have known this person, and grateful for where I am. And I think it’s so cool how positively his life was impacted by our time together. On his way out, he shared so much with me about what “we” meant to him, and to his life in a broad sense. And there is so much more I wish I could say about this part of it. But I feel—I worry—that doing that would be sharing too much. There’s always a shelf life with everything within this space. It’s just factual. And I’m excited to see what’s next. Because the universe has a way of putting people in front of you, and experiences in front of you, at the right time.
