It turned out for Ben and I that our weekend together in DC was like our many weekends during our long-distance phase: a time of togetherness, companionship, fun and great affection. We certainly travel exceedingly well together.

My long-time ex-boyfriend Shaun, the only guy apart from Ben whom I've ever loved, hit it off with Ben the first night - Thursday - after Shaun picked us up from our hotel. They got to know each other in a rather polite way over dinner at a Singaporean restaurant on Thursday night, then, perhaps, a little more intimately at the Green Lantern, a Thursday night fixture where you get free drinks if you take your shirt off.

On Friday, Ben had his NIH Study Section to finish in the morning, while I tried to work from Starbucks in Dupont Circle again. It was a beautiful, crisp, Fall day, and because of server problems in New York, I didn't start making progress with my work until the afternoon. Ben joined me, and we sat next to each other at Starbucks: me with my work laptop running programs in New York; Ben with a new book on long-term gay & lesbian relationships he'd bought. He'd also just given me a lovely card expressing that he knew how difficult it was for me to leave San Francisco, and how much he appreciated it.

It is true that the two or three weeks I've been spending at Ben's place, in preparation for my final move on Nov 19th, have been difficult and stressful for both of us. For the first time since we've been seeing each other, Ben has had to work long, hard hours, and has been ncoming home tired and stressed. For my part, I've been gong through a huge life change in moving down here; as well as spending a lot of lonely time by myself due to my lack of friends down here, insufficient work to keep me very busy, and the lack of a community and a support network.

On Friday afternoon, though, Ben was finally through the woods of his three work weeks in hell, and the tension dropped away, freeing him up to be the warm, engaging, cheerful, exciting person he usually is. Throughout the afternoon spent in Starbucks, we continually looked up and smiled at each other, or put a hand on the other's shoulder, or gave each other a quick kiss. One of the things I truly value about Ben is that he has little fear of public displays of affection. Not that we're French kissing on the subway or anything, mind you. I wouldn't even do that if Ben was a girl.

In the evening, we had a teriffic work-out together at Results, an extremely nice gay gym not too far from Dupont Circle, before Shaun joined us for dinner in the adjoining restaurant. Then we decided to call it an early night and return to Shaun's house right on the Anacostia River, where we showed Shaun photos from our Summer vacation.

Saturday was an even more beautiful day, warm enough for me to wear a sleeveless t-shirt and enjoy the sun on my skinn. We all had brunch together at Paramount Annie's Steakhouse, an old gay institution which you felt had had the same aging clientele for decades.

Shaun had work to do in the afternoon, so we agreed to part company and meet up again in the early evening to work out at Results. Ben and I walked hand-in-hand, crunching leaves underfoot, to the Phillips Collection - America's first museum of modern art - just off Dupont Circle. There was a wonderful exhibition of the interplay between the works of Miro and Caulder. Ben and I delighted in the whimsical works. At times like this, when we're both appreciating something new and beautiful together, we both experience a lightness of heart and a joy in each other's company that almost feels like a chemical high.

It didn't take very long, however, for our spirits to droop a little afterwards. We both began to feel very tired, and we, somewhat dutifully, put ourselves through the Hirschorn Museum of Sculpture on the Mall. We were totally dependent on Shaun to get us home, so we didn't have the option of going to his place to nap. We both perked up, though, after drinking cafe mochas in the gardens outside the Smithsonian Castle. Then we crossed the Mall to go in the Museum of Natural History. Ben wanted to show me the Hope Diamond. I never realized America had an impressive National Gem Collection. Nor did I know that Ben has always had an avid (and infectious) fascination for jewelry and precious stones.

So we were light-hearted again when we ended up in a bookstore off Dupont Circle as the sun sank low. I bought "21", the final, unfinished work by my favorite author Patrick O'Brian, and Ben bought a science-fiction novel. We retired to Starbucks to read, waiting for the call from Shaun. Shaun has appalling time-management problems - he's routinely tardy, and always vastly underestimates how long it will take him to get things done. I'm not the most patient person myself, but I've learned to cope with Shaun. But Ben is even less patient, and he grew tired, and irritable as Shaun's arrival was continually delayed. By the time we walked over to the gym to meet Shaun, Ben was in a pretty foul mood, and I felt simultaneously vexed and a little bit caught in the middle. There's nothing like a powerful work out, however, to shift your mood. By the time we got back home, after dinner at the gym, we were all tired, but in good spirits - looking forward to a nap before going out to the big Saturday night club, Velvet.

By eleven, we were over in the scarred, industrial neighborhood not far from the Capitol, where the big clubs are. We stopped in the sordid gay strip-bar, Wet, first, for a little bit of diverting entertainment before the main event. And by 12.30 we were dancing on the main dance floor at Velvet, with Ben and I with our shirts off of course, and the increasingly demure Shaun in a tank-top. Ben and I felt even closer and more affectionate than usual, and we spent almost the whole evening in each other's arms, kissing and dancing close as if we were in the first flush of romance. And Ben and Shaun finally started to build a genuine rapport and understanding, both seeing in the other the qualities that had made me fall in love with each of them (in Shaun's case, fifteen years ago).

Shaun is the most sweet-natured, gentle man I've ever known. At one point we all went outside on the roof deck, revelling in the chill of the Autumn night on our bare skin, and gazing at the brightly illuminated Capitol dome less than half a mile away. I told Shaun about the recent amazing changes in my Dad (who wants to meet Ben when we go to London this Christmas, and who has taken to signing off his letters with "my love to both of you.") And Shaun was so touched that the tears streamed down his face, which of course touched both Ben and me. We all had such a wonderful, fun, innocent night.

After we got home at 3.30, Ben and I lay together in the guest bedroom until almost five, talking and reminiscing about the wonderful few months we've shared together. It used to be we'd be always crazy to have sex after clubbing. While I don't deny that I had an almost irrepressible erection as we lay together, we seem to have gotten to a level of intimacy I've never reached in other relationships, where sex is no longer the single most connective experience between us.

Ben and I having brunch on a fine Fall day at the Dupont Grille

Sunday was yet more beautiful - in the low seventies. We were extremely tired. Again, Shaun had work to do, so Ben and I had a delicious brunch at the classy Dupont Grille, then took a cab over to Georgetown to wander along the shopping street, and look in a few great furniture stores and galleries. As the afternoon sun began to sink, we sat beside the Chesapeake & Ohio Canal, drinking frappes from Dean & Delucca, taking turns to lie down and rest our heads on each other's laps, uncaring and indeed not noticing whether the other people also enjoying the late afternoon soon were bothered by our comfortable, physical intimacy in public.

The Kennedy Center in the background

Ben persuaded me, against my better judgement, to see "The Grudge", a ridiculous (but genuinely scary) horror movie at the Georgetown Loews by the river. Then Shaun picked us up outside, and we had dinner at Loreal Plaza. I was very tired, but still wanted to go out later that night (after a nap) to my favorite D.C. club, Lizard Lounge. But Ben seemed even more tired, and I feared we'd have to bag the plan, which would be much to Shaun's dissappointment (because he loves Lizard Lounge so much). So I kept myself deliberately perky throughout dinner and the drive home in order to counteract any momentum towards having a quiet evening at home. But after our nap, we all felt (or acted) refreshed, and off we went again.

At Lizard Lounge, I was wearing my tight, low-hung Gstar pants, and my favorite D&G black shirt with the word "Healthy" emblazoned across the chest. I've been getting more attention recently than I've ever had in my life, and at Lizard Lounge it became almost ridiculous. It seemed absolutely every body followed me with their eyes, or nudged their friends and talked about me. I felt strong, virile and self-confident - and I guess it's that self-confidence, my height, my new short hair, and my recent development of a more cut physique that attracted the attention. It's ironic: I've never felt more confident of my ability to attract men - I felt as if I could have anybody in the club. Yet never, hopelessly in love with Ben as I am, have I needed the attention less.

(If this all sounds sinfully vain and immodest, I apologize - only partly. I assure you that it doesn't really go to my head. And my reasons for writing in this vein is that this is, after all, my journal, and it would be foolish to conceal what's really going on, and how I feel about things - even if it paints me as a conceited egotist.)

Of course Ben and I took off our shirts as usual, and had our usual, wonderful time dancing together. I admit to flashing quick grins over Ben's head at cute guys who were striving to make eye contact, but my heart and my attention - or most of it at least - were with Ben, and, occasionally, Shawn. Ben has a bigger and better nature than mine: he doesn't feel much threatened by the attention I get (although I think the extent of it this Sunday night unnerved him just a little). Lord, if it had been the other way around (and I totally don't understand sometimes why cute, hunky Ben isn't mobbed), I pray that I'd have been big enough to be proud instead of jealous.