I think I’m a glutton for pain, or maybe I just like doing things I know are bad for me because I can’t help myself. I am human, and the more I talk with people, the more I realize my views on life are constantly changing. If you’ve been reading this blog from the beginning, I am not that same boy I used to be. I was never the man who would be okay with a one night stand, I’ve actually written some posts condemning the whole thing. But I have done them on more than one occasion, and I can’t help but think I was wrong in slut shaming. I’ve started to slut shame myself for some of the things I’ve done, and I think this is the complete wrong mentality to have about oneself. I’m not completely on board with the idea of one night stands, but I’m not really against them either. I’m kind of stuck in this in-between world where I’ve been on both sides, and still just one doesn’t feel completely right. Maybe there is a balance I have yet to find, some way to not give into the gay stereotype but also not to be a prude. For the longest time I thought I’ve had that, but after going back to my one night stand for the 4th time, I can’t help but think I am a lost little mess looking for someone to clean up.
I met up with Daniel (one night stand/bae) again for the 4th time. This time we were going to have sex and I had no collateral to give, we were having sex because we wanted to. Well, I wanted to. I can’t actually tell what he feels for me.
When I arrived at his house I assumed we would head straight to his room, but instead, we plopped on the sofa and watched American Horror Story with his roommates. I tried not to read into it, but a part of me at least felt like he wasn’t embarrassed by me if he is bringing me around his roommates. It was like I was more than just a hit it and quit it. Not saying he liked me, but he at least liked me enough to bring me around as a friend.
After we watched an episode we headed back into his bedroom where he put on another show and just held me as we watched it. I felt so uncomfortable laying on his body. I was trying not to overthink, but I kept asking myself if he was uncomfortable, or I was too heavy on his arms, or if he is waiting for me to make a move. Since we were in HIS bedroom I felt like he should be the one making the moves. I know he likes confidence, and when I’m with him, I feel anything but. It’s because I don’t know a single damn thing about him. I don’t know what he likes, what’s a turn off, or what exactly he wants from me. Is it just sex? Friendship? Is there a possibility for something more? I don’t know, and I find him so impossible to read. He is vanilla, but could someone honestly be that one dimensional? I know he has layers, so I spent some time after sex trying to find out.
I kept asking him questions, small important questions, but to him they were “basic” and “meaningless.” I’m sorry, but what the hell did he expect me to ask? “Do you have daddy issues and that’s why you’re gay?”
The conversation went something like this:
“are you irritated with my questions?”
“No. but they’re just basic.”
“Would you rather me ask tougher questions?”
“I don’t get why you’re asking me?”
“Because I care.”
There it was. I admitted that a part of me cared and genuinely wanted to know more about him beyond the sex. He was quiet after that and we went to sleep. But if THIS was just about sex for me, why did I care?
I know him and I would never be more than what we are now. I don’t think he would ever understand or appreciate me the way I would want to be understood and appreciated. The most he’s ever asked me about my life is “What did you do today?” Hey, I guess that’s a start.
But the reason I think I am so curious about him is because I am attracted to him. I do like the way his lips feel on mine, it was like they were meant to kiss one another. I’m not trying to be poetic, but when someone matches your kissing style, that’s not something you should just completely ignore. The reporter in me is also so fascinated by him because I know absolutely nothing about him. He is hard to read, and honestly, hard to talk to. I’m always afraid I’m going to say something wrong that will make him not like me. But again, why do I care? I know I shouldn’t, but he makes me question everything, especially my confidence. I think maybe what I need to learn from this whole thing is how to be confident in myself and my body. Because I know I constantly want approval from others, especially the ones I like.
I don’t think it was wrong for me to want to know more about him. And my curiosity isn’t just because a part of me wants to be with him. I think it’s because I am not the type of guy to just have sex with anybody, so the fact that I’m having sex with someone I don’t really know blows my mind. But as Charlotte on Sex and The City once said, “How well do we really know the people we sleep with?”
And in this case, I know nothing.
Not even how he thinks of me.
One thought on “Sherlock”
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