What is Distance?

Ever since Aidon left back to Australia we have talked every day. At first, it was probably a text or two a day. Maybe just a Snapchat. But as time progressed, the conversations got longer and pretty soon it became phone calls and facetime. There hasn’t been a day that I haven’t wanted to talk to him.

He says all the right things. He makes my heart skip beats, and the way I feel for him is unlike anything I’ve ever felt. Maybe it’s because I finally found someone just as crazy. He gets jealous if a boy flirts with me, he is afraid to express too much emotion in case he scares me away, and he is a romantic without labeling himself as one. I could make a book with all the corny one-liners we tell each other, and although he thinks they are probably meaningless, they mean so much to me. My heart melts each time he calls me babe or lets it slip how much he misses me, or when he makes comments about a future together. Maybe he doesn’t notice, but I am always listening. I think because of distance, I have to listen more. I can’t rely on physical cues to understand his mood, so communication between us is crucial.

As much as he makes me feel reassured, I also feel crazy insecure with him. I’m scared somehow he will be taken away from me. I’m scared I will feel too much, say the wrong thing, or maybe he will just lose interest. The last guy I “dated” would tell me how much he liked me, and then within 24 hours, he completely dropped me and ran off with some other dude. I was blindsided and crushed, and I’m not saying Aidon is like that, but It makes me somewhat guarded. Not sure why, but I haven’t really had a successful long-term relationship. Maybe I am doing something wrong, but with each one, I learn a little more and get stronger. I’m still learning to be confident and secure. I tend to lose those traits when I fall in love because all of a sudden I care and when I care I feel crazy. Maybe I am crazy.

Aidon is coming in September and I am super excited, but I am also nervous. Since he’s left we have an unspoken agreement between us that we are not talking to other people. I am on no other dating apps, I turn guys down when they try and ask me out, and no part of me is even looking anymore. I am so content and happy with Aidon that I don’t even want the thought of someone else. I can’t explain it, but a part of me thinks he might be the one. Which is so scary for me to write, let alone, think about. Because if I’m wrong, I would feel so stupid. But if I’m right, man what an incredible love story we would have to share. Instagram, to LA, to Australia, to love. I don’t want to ruin anything by thinking too much about it, but I can’t help but let my mind and heart wander. So far they haven’t come back.

September will be a huge deciding factor in our relationship. Will the same attraction still be there, will we get along, or will we fizzle out and realize this maybe isn’t for us? But it could also have a huge positive effect, one I should be focusing on the most. We could grow closer as a couple, fall in love, and even make a commitment that will change the course of our lives. I’m not talking about marriage, but if we agree to keep this relationship up, there will be constant flying between both countries.

I’ve always wanted a wild romance. One that defied the odds and beat out the naysayers against romance. I never wanted to force one, I don’t think it’s possible. But this came when I least expected it, and I just hope and pray that it stays for the long run.

Los Angeles Love Story

Aidon is handsome, a teacher, blonde, has green eyes, Australian (hot accent), and can be found anywhere around the world on an adventure. And although it sounds like I’m describing someone from a romance novel, Aidon is as real as you and me. I thought we all have that type in our head that we will never truly find, but there he was on my phone screen waiting for me to send that first message on Tinder.

Aidon currently lives in Australia where he works as a part-time traveler and a full-time tutor to a family that has more money than I could ever dream of. Every 3 months Adion travels with them to Beverly Hills for a week to teach the kids. After some casual conversation, I found out he was on his way to LA. This gave me exactly one week to know my dream man.

After arriving in town, he and I exchanged a few texts about our Saturday night plans. I knew I would find him somewhere in West Hollywood, so I wore my sexiest of outfits. A string pink tank top that said “West Coast” with some torn up black skinny jeans. I chugged 4 shots of Vodka before I went out and I was feeling pretty confident. A few bars into the night, I finally stumbled into The Abbey. There, standing across the dance floor, was Aidon drinking a Corona.

He was just as handsome in person and after a brief hello, we found our way to a little corner table. The rest of the night slipped away in our conversation. We spent the night together and I assumed that would have been it for us. One night stands are the norm in LA so my expectations for more were low. Usually, you meet someone interesting and then the next day they’re off with someone else. Most people have the attention span of a goldfish. Everyone wants new, and in gay culture, relationships usually aren’t the trend.

But after that night Aidon and I spent the next few days together with me as a tour guide. I showed him my own personal LA. I took him to MidiCi, my favorite pizza place in the valley. We went climbing at Hollywood Boulders so I could strut my athletic adventure side, and we kissed in between shops at the Grove.

Aidon also served as a guide showing me new things in my own town.

He took me to sweetgreen on 3rd, introducing me to the world of Kale. He helped me discover my new obsession that is Rite Aid birthday cake ice cream. And finally, he treated me to dinner at Cleo in Hollywood because he felt I deserved a “proper” date.

After that first night in West Hollywood, he and I slipped into a rhythm. Every night was spent in his arms and each morning I begrudgingly left them just to return. The hours between day and night became too much of a distance between us. All the while ignoring the fact about the real distance between Los Angeles and Australia.

One night while strolling through Beverly Hills eating ice cream, Aidon opened up about his desires in a relationship.

“I want the type of love where you miss the person the second they leave the room. Where they are your best friend. I see that in my sisters and their husbands.”

Immediately my heart stopped. That was exactly the type of love I’ve dreamed of having but have yet to find.

“That’s exactly how my parents are,” I replied. “They’ve been married for 35 years and my dad will call my mom the second he leaves home.”

After that, we walked in silence. I don’t know what he was thinking, but I knew I wanted more than this week was going to be able to offer us.

The following days flew past, and soon the week ended and It was our last night together. I had to tell him how I felt.

I wanted to be dramatic and say something romantic like, “I love you!” but I knew what we had wasn’t love. It was possibly just the start of it. We didn’t have enough time together to justify me asking him to be mine from halfway across the world. But I was going to miss the good morning kisses, the secret public hand-holding, and most of all, Aidon. I didn’t want to let go because for once I found someone who finally understood my version of love.

“I want you,” were the words that came out of my mouth as we sat kissing in my red Prius. “I don’t know what that means, but I want you.”

He pulled away and looked me in the eyes.

“I want you too. I come back to LA in September.”

“Maybe we are just meant to be a week-long romance?” I asked.

“We are so much more than that.”

And then we let the silence speak for us. Was that a promise of some sort of future? Did he want us as much as I did?

We gave one final kiss goodbye and then he was off, making the distance between us even more of a reality. I didn’t know whether to cry or smile. Aidon just proved to me there is love in LA. Even if only for a week.

Relationship, Smationship

It’s probably because of where I’ve been looking, but finding a committed relationship in gay LA is impossible. When I meet a gay couple I sometimes just wonder, “How did you make it work?” I fantasize over love, and even on occasion, have browsed through tumblr for photos of gay couples. Wow, that last sentence makes me sound incredibly pathetic, but I am a romantic and can’t help it. I don’t think gay’s are incapable of holding a relationship, but I do feel a majority of them don’t want to. Gay culture, from what I have been witnessing, is all about the moment.

I used to fantasize about moments, but my “moments” weren’t this. They were brief romantic adventures with a first love, a weekend spent with a boy you fell in love with in D.C., or a cancelled flight in Nashville to just follow your heart and get to know that boy you met in a Southern thunderstorm. THOSE are the moments I crave. The ones that are tied together with romance and counted in heartbeats. Yet the “moments” people experience here in LA are one night stands, a hook up, a one and done. I’m not saying hook ups are bad or wrong, I just desire more than that.

I want to sleep with someone who wants to be there the next morning.

For awhile I have tried to play by the rules of the city, and all it’s done is left me feeling emptier than before with a side of scabies and anxiety for dessert. And the more I try to meet a decent guy, the more depressed I get about the whole way dating is done in the gay world.

See most guys I encounter are either dating someone, hung up on someone, or so desensitized to romance I don’t even think they know what a date is. And a common trend I keep finding is that a majority of guys are in an open relationship. What the fuck is the point of a relationship if you still just want to go around and fuck other people?

I tried to ask a friend why he had that kind of set up with his boyfriend, and all I got was that there were certain things his boyfriend couldn’t give him that maybe others could. But I had always learned that NO ONE will ever check off every box you desire, and love comes with sacrifice and hard work. The idea to have it all is enticing, but also keeping someone while still seeking others is selfish and ultimately unrealistic. When you open up yourself to others in a way like that, you’re leaving the door open for so much to destroy the relationship you have.

For example, the more you give yourself to someone sexually, there is no way for feelings to not develop. Maybe you yourself won’t get them, but I promise over time someone is going to get hurt. Someone’s heart is going to change.

You are also opening yourself up to the possibility of STD’s and other things that can alter the course of your relationship. Say you slept with someone with HIV or Herpes and had no idea, and then you sleep with your boyfriend. You just put your boyfriend at risk for something that would NEVER have occurred if you stuck with monogamy. I mean to each his own, but I would never want to put myself or anyone else I care about at risk like that. That is so selfish.

A man I recently met has been in a committed relationship for 4 years, and when he met me, immediately started flirting. I flirted back, but after some consideration, changed my mind. I wouldn’t want someone flirting with my boyfriend, nor would I want my boyfriend flirting with someone else. So when I rejected his offer of a hook up he in turn got mad at me. Saying I had no right to justify my answer of a “no” based off of HIS relationship with his boyfriend. He accused me of being a wishy washy LA type, and to be honest, a part of me was offended. Even when I felt like I was doing the right thing, I was still being lumped with those who don’t. Sorry I was being considerate and looking out for someone besides myself, I feel like that was the most NOT LA thing I could do.

The effect of the gay community has even invaded my family life. I love that I am open to my family, it makes it so much easier on me to be able to express my true self and feelings, but it also adds so much stress on my mom.

And I sometimes think lying about it would have been the easier thing to do.

My mom worries about the promiscuity of the gay community. She worries that when I’m out I am kissing multiple people, sleeping around, and collecting STD’s like Pokemon. She is so scared that I won’t find a quality match, and that all that exists out there is sex.

But maybe she’s not that far off.

All the gay community has ever really portrayed to me is the freedom of expression. Yes we fought for the right to be ourselves, but I feel like we have taken it too far by allowing our bodies to just be used however we want. Yes, we have the right to do whatever the hell we want with them. Everyone has that right, but we have been a community that is just known for it’s promiscuity and we justify it by just saying, “well we’re gay.” That’s an image we give out, so naturally my mom is worried about it.

I don’t think that’s who I am. I’ve had my moments of freedom, sure who hasn’t, but I don’t look at myself as a promiscuous person. But maybe that’s me justifying it by always telling myself, “I could be a lot worse.”

I guess my problem is, I’m a romantic, and the more I hear about open relationships and try to submerge myself in this community I just end up feeling let down. I want the kiss in the rain, the surprise arrival in the airport, or the boombox outside my window. Maybe what I want is unrealistic, and even more unrealistic for the gay community. I wouldn’t be surprised if my standards were too high, that seems to be a recurring theme for my life.

In all I feel like I don’t fit in in my community, I think I want more than it’s proven it has to offer.

But love has to be out there, and I am a wanderer who will keep looking.

Lit Too Soon

We are a perfect match. Okay well I’ve only physically known him for about a week, but my co-worker Macayla has been talking to me about this dude for a year, so I feel like we’re meant to be.

But my first red flag should have been the fact that his name is Michael. You see, Michael is the name of the first boy I ever fell for. Maybe this is just a sign that I have a thing for Michael’s, or that maybe I should altogether avoid Michael’s. I can’t really tell, but I have always been drawn to the things that are bad for me. That part hasn’t really changed much over the years.

It’s taken me a year to meet Michael because he has been in a committed relationship, but during that entire time Macayla has slowly been planting the seed of me in his mind and over time, it grew.

Well, grew into something.

It’s been about a month since Michael and his boyfriend broke up, and after work one day, Macayla and I went over for me to finally meet him.

I didn’t know what to expect. I knew he was cute, but beyond that I only knew bits of his personality. For example I knew he didn’t like to party, he was more of the serious type than the fling type (what I want), and he could be a home body. We are different, but he is the balance I need to help level out certain aspects of my personality.

The night we met we played a board game, I stayed a little longer than Macayla, and I was up until 3 am just hearing about his life. He confessed he hated poetry, which is a huge passion of mine, and he told me he didn’t like musicals. How does someone not like musicals! But I let it slide and I just told myself he didn’t appreciate them because no one has shown him the beauty of them. So in that moment, I made it my mission to show him.

The next day he text me about getting lunch and I happily agreed. Although our personalities were different, I wanted to keep getting to know him. He was so cute, he had the perfect body, and he had such a fun and goofy personality you couldn’t help but smile when around him. Yet he is far from perfect. He has his hang-ups, but don’t we all have a little history that just adds color to our future? And I was ready to paint with those colors.

After lunch, we went back to his apartment and hung out. I didn’t want to leave, and I could already tell his personality didn’t like to be left alone. Which is both good and bad depending on how you look at it. In this moment, it was good.

We watched an episode of Handmaids Tale, and because we hadn’t slept much, he suggested we take a nap. I LOVE naps so I was all about this idea. He went into his room and slept for an hour and I fell asleep on his insanely expensive sofa that he bought for his apartment.

After we woke up we headed to go grab coffee and hit up my rock climbing gym. We talked and laughed more, and I out climbed him easily. But when it came to weight lifting, he crushed me in form and stamina. It was nice to workout with someone, and being with him checked off one of my boyfriend fantasy boxes. I always wanted a boyfriend I could workout and climb with. After doing his ridiculous suggestion of an ab workout, I crashed down on the mat next to him, and he looked me in the eye and kissed me.

My heart literally stopped.

Usually when a guy kisses me in public I look around in fear to see who saw. I’m always scared about peoples reactions, and in a gym surrounded by both masculine men and women, my senses should have been heightened. But in that moment, I didn’t care who saw. A part of me actually wanted people to see.

I didn’t say anything after he kissed me, and neither did he. It was a perfect little moment that I didn’t feel needed any questioning. Why question a good thing?

After that we went back to his apartment, watched a movie, and spent the rest of the night talking until the sun rose. It was the perfect night, and in between laughter and kisses, he told me I made him feel tingly. My heart was beating out of my chest, but I had to keep reminding myself I had only known him for a day and that he just got out of a relationship.

He wasn’t into the last guy he dated. His last boyfriend was a rebound to the guy before, but who has a year long rebound, and was I about to be the rebound to the rebound?

After I left for work the next morning, my thoughts were still wrapped in the night before. I’ve spent so long trying to feel those “tingly” feelings and I had finally found them. He called Macayla, told her how much he liked me, and that he couldn’t wait to see what was to come. My heart had never beat faster.

He text me a lot that day and then as the weekend progressed, his texts kind of slowed. Were we just another moment to add to this blog? Another glimpse of love that I wouldn’t be able to hold? Another Michael to my Michael?

But days later we met up to hangout again, but right before I was about to head over, he called me to tell me that he didn’t want to repeat the same process of his last relationship. I was slightly taken aback because we had just met and it felt like I was already getting a definition of what we were going to be. It’s like I was being dumped before I even started. He followed up that he just wanted to be friends and it felt so contradictory to what he told me and Macayla just days before. Did he like me, or was he just caught up in a moment?

I agreed I just wanted to be friends, and I proceeded to go over and continue to hangout just to “prove” I was able to be calm, cool, and collected. Yet my insides were basically anything but. The entire time together I wanted to kiss him again. I wanted to recreate the amazing night we had before, but instead of being offered to stay, I went home with dry lips and a sinking feeling in my chest. Our moment came and went, and I was too caught up in the feelings to see the ending that I shouldn’t have been surprised to see.

He called Macayla and told her everything and she did her best to reassure me that he still liked me but needed time. I know he needs time, but I kind of wish I met him when he was ready. Now I’m stuck in this limbo where I have to be friends after I already caught some feelings. It’s the worst, and now I’m stuck playing that game where I act uninterested when I am totally interested.

I guess I don’t have to play, but like I said before, I am a sucker for doing the things that are bad for me and I love a challenge. Maybe this time I can play with matches without getting burned.

Maybe this time I can win the Michael.

Scratch That

I am prone to ignoring my intuition. Usually, I am never wrong, but I am very good at feeling the energies people throw out at me. Yet, I always ignore them. It’s like I don’t want to listen to what I know because somehow, I want it to be wrong. It’s almost like I want to prove myself wrong, and rarely, do I ever. The story I am about to say next is all based off of a hunch. I have no proof. No viable evidence, and if I am wrong, well I’m sorry I slandered your name. No matter, at the end of the day you’re still scum, scum that one or another, I am still dealing with.

I met Travis out in West Hollywood. That should have been red flag number 1, nothing good comes out of that bar scene except for a story and some ever lasting regrets. Travis made eyes at me across the pool table of Bar 10 while I was being dragged around by my friend Jordan meeting all of his friends. When Travis approached me my mind automatically screamed at me he was trouble, but pushing that nosey bitch of a voice aside, I agreed to meet his outstretched hand and say hello.

He was charming, smiling at all the right moments, and making me feel like I was the only guy in the bar. I kept glancing around for Jordan, he and I were supposed to be “together” for the night, and I didn’t want to get caught with someone else. But while Jordan was distracted with more friends, Travis slipped his number into my phone and slithered back into the crowd.

I immediately shot him a text that read, “you look like trouble,” and little did I know I was right. But he took that line, bit into it, and he was hooked. From that moment on he HAD to get to know me.

Jordan and I ended up at an after party at someone’s house and Travis pulled me into the kitchen while we talked over cold pizza and blurred conversations. He was so handsome, and his voice was so relaxed and warm. He seemed genuinely intrigued in getting to know me, and I foolishly thought in that moment, maybe he was the one LA has been hiding and holding just for me.

I awoke the next morning to a text and I felt so elated. This handsome boy did want to get to know me, and he was reaching out to set up our first date.

Later that night I met him at his apartment and we walked over to an Irish pub for drinks and fries. He told me about his family, his goals for acting, and how he was a deep and sentimental guy. Honestly, it was weird for me to hear someone describe themselves as deep, but I ignored it and just listened to him talk about himself. Although he was connected to his OWN feelings, he seemed so disconnected to those of the ones around him. He didn’t ask me much about myself, and didn’t seem to want to know about my art and dreams.

After that night we saw each other every day for a week. We spent almost each night together leading up until my week trip in Mexico. By the end of our week together I had a feeling it wasn’t going to work between us. He seemed to lack substance, and although he paraded himself as this deep and emotional guy, he seemed to only care about himself. Also, every time we were together, he either wanted to be smoking or drinking. It was like he had to be high off of something in order to function with the realities around him. He also smoked cigarettes, and after I saw him smoke his first one, I should have turned away and never looked back. But being the nice guy I am, I believe I have the power to change people. Hell, I can’t even change myself.

I’m a big stickler on STDs and trying my best to avoid them at all costs. Travis had just been tested, as was I, so I didn’t worry much about them. The only thing that did concern me was this persistent rash he seemed to have on his arms, but he quickly diffused my concerns about it when he caught me staring, and said his eczema had been acting up. My first hunch was HIV. Being gay I am ALWAYS paranoid about HIV, but again we weren’t having sex so I wasn’t too concerned about it being that either.

Although I knew everything about him was wrong for me, I did still kind of like him. While in Mexico he text me, which was surprising because I assumed he would have had already moved on. That’s how relationships are in LA. Nothing lasts, and slowly I’ve started to lower my expectations and accept that. But I hate that I am doing that, and I refuse to abandon my idea that love is out there.

Turns out though the day I left Travis hooked up with his ex boyfriend and this other guy he was apparently talking to while talking to me. It hurt, but like I told myself going into it, not to expect too much. I called him out for his BS when I returned, stupidly spent one more night with him, and then moved on.

But I believe Travis left a little something behind so I will never forget him.

Weeks after Travis, I started to get itchy. I ignored it and chalked it up as jock itch from constantly working out in the gym. The itch persisted, and slowly, bug bites started to appear on my arm. Again, I tried not to panic, and assumed maybe something just bit me. But soon, every morning, I was waking up with more and more bites.

A quick google search led me to the idea I might have bed bugs, but after nights of searching and worrying, I didn’t find a single bug. Soon, however, my bites moved to my wrist and looked exactly like the rash Travis had on his arms. Another google search later, I concluded that just maybe I had Scabies.

And for those who don’t know, Scabies fucking suck! It’s a microscopic parasite that burrows, bites, shits, and lays eggs in your skin. And the bug bites you feel are an allergic reaction your body has to the whole ordeal.

So that finally explained the itching and persistent bites, but how do you get it you ask? Skin to skin contact or shared clothes/bedding. It’s an STD that you don’t even have to have sex to get, so that’s why it’s not listed or tested for. Oh yeah did I forget to mention you can’t get tested for it? You just have to wait until you have symptoms and hope you get it diagnosed in time or else you’re just going to continue to infect everyone you love and care about.

I immediately text Travis if he ever figured out what his rash really was, and he said his doctor told him it was “dry skin.” Bullshit. But I made an appointment with my doctor and lo and behold, I was right that I had scabies.

The treatment is simple, apply a cream from head to toe, and come morning the little buggers are dead. BUT they fail to mention the emotional and physical pain this parasite and “cure” causes on a person.

I was still itchy, and the symptoms got worse as my body tried to expel everything out of it. I developed rashes everywhere, and the itch was worse than when I had Scabies. I was afraid to touch anything or anyone, still am, and my body still has yet to recover. Every bump that appears on me I assume is Scabies and I freak out. Post Scabies resembles actual scabies, so one can ever tell if they are reinfected or cured. But if you still show symptoms a month after treatment, it is likely you’re still infested. I am in that month period, and I just want to curl up into a ball until it all passes.

I forget what it’s like to have clear skin, and it has caused me so much anxiety that I relapsed into a depression. Yes it’s curable, but it feels like it will never go away. I wouldn’t wish this on anyone, but the more I talked about it with people, the more common I discovered it really is. Turns out I have friends who have fought this same battle and survived, and that is what I hold on to.

I still don’t know if it came from Travis. It could have come from anyone, but the fact he had rashes when we met leads me to believe that I may not be wrong. I’m sorry for anyone he infected and didn’t tell. I’m sorry for the person passing it and not knowing. And I am sorry for anyone I may have unknowingly gave it to as well. I don’t want anyone to ever have to deal with this. It’s medieval torture for the modern age.

So next time my gut tells me someone is trouble, I won’t scratch it away. And be warned, Scabies is a thing, and it’s an invisible bitch that wants to haunt you and your dreams.

Don’t let it.

Snapchat Love Story

Dating is hard. That’s a known fact, but being gay is an extra layer that doesn’t make finding love any easier. Every guy I’m ever into is either straight, taken, or not interested. Plus my options to choose from are a lot smaller, and although I love a challenge, I am tired of fighting for something that doesn’t seem to be fighting back. I don’t understand why it’s so hard to make a love connection.

Most guys I encounter in Los Angeles seem to only want sex and nothing more. Some are honest about it, but some hide it in their charm and smiles. It’s the latter that scares me the most, and although I like to think of myself as clever, I am a sucker for a pretty smile.

I officially met Alex at a pre-game party on a Thursday night. Alex immediately caught my eye, and after a brief introduction, I knew I had seen him before. He actually asked me out once after drunkenly running into me at Bar 10 in West Hollywood. I text him the next day to follow up and he never text me back, but 6 months later here he was hitting on me again.

The plan for the night was to go to TigerHeat, an 18+ club down in Hollywood. I used to go all the time before I turned 21, but now at 25 I never saw a reason to go back. But my friends wanted to go to the club, so I decided to take the trip back down memory lane.

Alex and I snuck away to an upstairs part of the club that didn’t exist when I used to go there. We found ourselves a little corner in the quiet bar and started talking about life. He wasn’t like the rest of the guys I usually encountered. He was handsome, smart, and had an opinion on things that actually matter. We talked science, family, and love, and I didn’t want the conversations to stop. Eventually our friends found our little hideaway and we were thrown back on the dance floor with the rest of the group.

Boys flocked to Alex, it was almost like everyone wanted his attention, and the more he focused on me the more dirty looks I would receive from others. It was kind of alluring that I was having the one thing everyone else wanted, but I should have known that attention doesn’t last forever.

We went back to his apartment at the end of the night and I didn’t want this to end up a usual one night stand. I could really see myself liking this guy, so I didn’t want to hook up on our first night of meeting.

I have this theory that if you hook up too soon it stops feelings from developing. It used to be that giving your body was the thing you waited for, but in today’s day and age, it’s the heart that’s the rare thing to giveaway. Hookups are the norm, and that’s a typical night out in gay Hollywood.

I went against my better judgement and gave into his advances. We spent the rest of the night cuddling, and continued the rendezvous the following morning. It was nice, and although so sudden, it felt so romantic. Things were definitely different, and it didn’t feel like your typical one night stand.

After a shower, kitchen kisses, and some morning laughs, we headed to get coffee and brunch down in Larchmont. The philosophical conversations flowed, and something about him kept me smiling. Maybe there was hope in the universe for me to finally make a love connection.

I spent the rest of the day thinking about when I could see him next and if maybe he wanted to see me soon too. I didn’t text him because I have grown accustomed to the dating game and didn’t want to seem too available. “Make him want you,” as my mom would always say.

Later the following night I went out with some friends again knowing Alex would be there. Was he as excited to see me as I was to see him? Was I expecting too much too soon? Yet I would like to think he felt what I felt, and it was like discovering gold in a town of coal.

But when I finally found Alex inside the bar, he looked shocked. He said hello and quickly excused himself to continue mingling with other people. After that, I didn’t see him for the rest of the night, and I haven’t heard from him since.

I sincerely thought he was going to be different, but I fell for the same game put on by just a stronger player. I’m used to the hook up culture, and I hate to say this, but sometimes I give into it as well. Yet deep down, I want nothing more than to connect with someone on a level that goes beyond the physical. And the more I date and try to put myself out there, the more dating and love seems to be like a Snapchat story. It’s the highlight of your day, and after 24 hours, it’s gone to make room for something more exciting.

A Year in Review

It’s been officially almost a year since I started this blog, and looking back at it, oh man what a rollercoaster. Some posts make me cringe, some make me a little nostalgic, and others make me laugh at how serious I took everything and how pathetic my pursuit of love sometimes made me sound. I swear some of these posts are so sappy.

But 2016 was my transition year. It was the year I finally moved out on my own into Los Angeles, broke up with my boyfriend, got a real job, toned my body, and learned that love isn’t as black and white as I always thought it was. It was the year I started to learn to let go and just be, because honestly that is the hardest thing for any of us to do.

I am not the same man today that I was a year ago, heck I’m not the same man today as I was yesterday. My views are constantly changing, constantly being challenged, and I’m constantly growing. I don’t think I’m losing who I am, rather I’m discovering parts of myself that I never knew were there before, and it’s awesome. Lessons come from the mistakes I make, and stories are made when I stumble. In sixth grade we learned a saying that I never forgot, “the only real mistake is one in which we learn nothing,” and I think this is why I never live with many regrets.

But I think one of my biggest fears is losing myself, and people are sometimes the biggest places I get lost in. 2016 was proof of that. It’s hard to not wash away the parts of yourself that you fear won’t be liked. For me it’s my dreamer mindset and vulnerability. I’m such a romantic, and most people just aren’t. But I’m also a realist who just happens to be a dreamer. I constantly teeter the line between overthinking and accepting things for what they are. I just feel the world differently, and although sometimes it can be painful, it’s worth it. This is probably why I’m a creative. I think creatives were just born to feel and share.

I live for moments. Moments with people, places, and things. For the longest time I wanted to believe in a forever, but I’ve come to learn no one or no thing can promise you that. All we are promised is moments. A moment to love, a moment to live, and a moment to feel. Moments are what make life so incredible.

I’ve always been an open book, I never really understood why it was bad to have an open heart. But the relationships I’ve made over the year have taught me that not everyone is so open. People quit and run when the going gets tough, and feelings are scary creatures that not many people ever really want to face. And as sad as it sounds, this is how most of LA is. Love has become such a game, and I’m not sure it even counts as winning if the only way to find it is by pretending you don’t feel it. And yet, we still keep on playing.

If you would have asked me a year ago what I wanted most in 2016, I probably would have said something like love. I thought being in love and having someone to love was the only real thing that I was missing, but life is so much more than that. I love being single and having fun. I love the possibility that anything can happen at any moment, and I love that I can have sex just to have sex. Sometimes things don’t have to have meaning, and something about that is so empowering.

True romance is finding your place in the world and finding comfort in that. To me, my place right now is here in LA pursuing my dream. I am doing something that is scary and unpredictable, and every step along the way is one step closer to it. The people I meet, the hearts that break, and the friends I make are all a part of this journey.

Love isn’t found in one person, it is found in everything. It is found in friends, in the world around us, and as cheesy as it sounds, inside ourselves. We are the love we should always be looking for, but we have forgotten what it means to love ourselves.

And I’ve finally started to learn, that is all the love I really need right now.

 

 

 

 

 

 

What goes up must come down

It’s rare for me to go on a third date with someone. It’s mainly because I haven’t found someone worth pursuing, and it doesn’t generally take me more than one date to know if I feel an attraction or pull to someone. I do, however, try to have a second date to either confirm or deny my theory that we won’t work as a pair, but I’m pretty good at nailing that with the first date. I don’t think I’m picky, I just know what I want and I won’t settle for less than that.

I met Steve through Bumble, and he was the first guy from Bumble that I think I’ve ever actually saw something with. He is a very subtle guy, and I think after 4 dates I know where that subtly comes from. He’s 6’4, blonde, blue eyed, and masculine. He is my type, and everything about him seemed to be going right.

For our first date we met for coffee down on Melrose at Urth Cafe. I ordered a Latte while he sipped on some green tea. We talked family, coming out, hobbies, work, and our dreams/ambitions. It was a great first date, and after he walked me to my car, we had an awkward first kiss that was essentially perfect. He leaned in and kissed me as I turned my head and landed on my cheek and then felt self conscious and proceeded to kiss me on the lips. After that night I kinda felt the butterflies that I hadn’t truly felt in awhile.

For our second date he came down to my neck of the woods and we got sushi and ice cream. It doesn’t sound like a good combination, but trust me, it’s the best.

For our third date we went and saw La La Land. Man that movie inspired me so much, and after that we got breakfast at midnight. I stuffed myself with chocolate chip pancakies and he had a shake.

By this time, most gay people would have hooked up. But we had only kissed, and I actually enjoyed it. It was nice to move at a slowed down pace, and really made me value falling for someone and not just their body. I think if people hook up too soon they ruin the ability to fall further. A bit of the romance and magic disappears, and if there isn’t a foundation of feelings and emotions, it usually never comes. I could be wrong, but that has always been my experience.

On our fourth date, it was pouring rain. I felt bad he had driven down from Santa Monica to see me, but it was sweet that he braved the weather and joined me for some coffee at the cafe around the corner from my apartment. As we sat and chatted, I felt it was time that he finally open up. Up until this point I felt the most open, and that’s who I am as a person, but I need the person I date to be open too.

He asked me if I had ever been in love and I told him about it and my views. To be honest, I have felt love, but hindsight makes me question all of it. Love, to me, is so romanticized. It’s grand, it’s unbeatable, and it’s never ending. Maybe my views are unrealistic, but watching my parents recently celebrate their 33rd wedding anniversary confirmed my theories. Love is crazy. Love is hard. But love never quits or gives up, and it’s worth it.

I threw the question back at him and that’s when things got awkward. He started to close up and didn’t want to talk about it, and this just led me to believe he was still in love. If you ask me, I can open up about anyone I’ve been with because I don’t feel anything anymore. So I was finding it so strange he didn’t want to talk about it. Looking back, I should have let it go. Because the more I pushed, the more flustered he got with trying to express himself.

He told me that I intimidated him, and he said it was because I come across like a “whole” person. He then asked if I had any unresolved issues, and I told him “No, why would I leave anything unresolved?” It just doesn’t make sense to me to not face what bothers me. If there is a problem, I always want to just fix it and move on. If I am broken hearted, I want to feel it and move on. He confessed he buries problems that bother him, and that was a huge red flag.

I concluded the conversation by saying I can’t date someone if their emotionally unavailable, and that I wouldn’t be a pacifier for someone to get over someone else. That might have been a bit assertive, but I don’t have time to waste trying to get someone to love me. I need someone who is a communicator and can be expressive, and if he felt like I was pushing too hard, then just tell me to take it back. If he just wanted to hookup, I would have been down for just that, but he said he wanted something serious with someone.

After that we walked back to my apartment and I asked if he had any romantic fantasies. It was a weird question, but with the rain I was feeling romance. My fantasy is a kiss in the rain, but it can’t already be raining. I would always say I would know the person I was meant to marry because we would be kissing and it would start to rain. I told him that was my fantasy and then I quickly realized that maybe he thought I wanted him to kiss me in the rain. Truthfully, I did not and that was not my intention. I honestly did NOT want to kiss him in the rain.

When we got back to my apartment I showed him my room and plugged in my Christmas lights. They are my favorite feature of my room. I showed him some poetry that was lying around and then proceeded to try and kiss him. He immediately pulled away and asked what I was doing.

I was shocked.

I stumbled for words and all I could say was, “what do you mean?”

He explained that he felt I made it very clear in the cafe I wasn’t interested in him, when I never said anything of the sort. He followed up by saying I was a romantic and he wasn’t, and something about that made me feel squirmy inside. Was it bad to be a romantic? He said it like romantic was a dirty word, and I hated that. But it also made me self conscious, and maybe it was bad I am open and sometimes feel too much. But I don’t think I feel too much, I just think the world feels too little.

He then said maybe he wasn’t romantically ready and moved on from his past love and proceeded to rush out of my apartment. He made the claim that he totally fucked up this situation and that he would text me later, and he kept repeating that.

“I’ll text you. I’ll text you. I’ll text you.”

I walked him downstairs and he looked completely distraught. I was genuinely concerned because I had no idea what was going on. Why was he frustrated, why was he leaving, and what was he feeling? I asked if he was okay because I cared to make sure he was okay and he responded by saying, “Do you really care? You barely know me.”

And in that moment, I felt angry. Of course I cared. Someone was hurting and it didn’t matter if I knew them well or not. If someone, even a stranger, is sad and distraught people should care enough to make sure they’re okay. I tried to explain that to him but he just looked at me passively. He left and then I text him an hour later to make sure he made it home okay in the rain. Driving in the rain is bad enough, but when you’re driving emotionally, that’s disastrous.

He text me two days later saying he felt we shouldn’t keep dating. Never gave me a reason, never explained his freakout, and never opened up. Overall, it was for the best. But why are there so many broken people in LA, and why do I keep finding them?

We all have our issues. We all have a past. But if we continue to run from our problems, we don’t become better humans. We become weighted humans, and life is too short to let anything hold us back.

Get Me Out Of Here

Two weeks ago while celebrating my birthday, I met a very attractive DJ at my favorite bar. His name is Patrick, and immediately I was into him. He had brown hair, a nice muscle build, and beautiful teeth. For those who don’t know, I’m a big stickler on teeth. It is probably one of the first things I notice about a person when I meet them. And anyone with poor oral hygiene who hasn’t even mastered the ability to floss, is not someone I could see myself with romantically. The night we met he gave me his number and a birthday kiss. After that we started texting, and from there, we finally planned our first date.

We never made it on that date.

I saw him two times after that, but not a single one of those times was a date. Once I saw him the night I ran into my ex, and the second time I saw him was on Halloween. For Halloween he was DJing at one of the bars for the Halloween Carnival and I went down there with a few friends to check out the festivities.

He got me and my friends into the bar and bought me a drink. He showered me with kisses and compliments and it felt amazing to have this attractive man tell me how he thought I was so beautiful. And as much as I wanted to believe him, I knew it was too good to be true.

And I was right.

After he got me a drink I went off and continued to celebrate with my friends. I didn’t want to leave them and he didn’t want to abandon his, so I understood why he felt like he wanted to part ways for some portion of the night. If I had it my way we would have continued dancing and kissing. A part of me didn’t care if I abandoned my friends. I was happy to be with a boy who liked me, but I knew the right thing was not to abandon them. Old me would have followed the boy, new me is trying to remember friends first and love later.

I spent the rest of my night out with my friends, and right before we were about to leave the party, I made us stop back into the bar where Patrick had been so I could say goodbye. I never found him in the bar, so we left and headed home. I was tired anyway, and everyone I was with had work early in the morning.

When we finally got home, and were snacking on my typical drunk order of Domino’s Cheesy Bread, I got a text from Patrick inviting me over. My heart skipped a beat. I wanted to see him and sleep by his side. I didn’t want to really be sexual right away because I still wanted that date, and call me crazy, but I would like to get to know someone before I sleep with them sexually.

I called an Uber and I headed over to his place. When I arrived he greeted me with open arms and a big smile, and he grabbed my hand while we walked down the streets of his apartment complex. He kept making sweet comments about how happy he was that I was there and how adorable/attractive he thought I was. It was sweet to have him fawning over me, but I have a hard time believing someone when they compliment me like that. It’s not that I am insecure and don’t feel attractive, more so it’s the fact that I’m turned off when they only notice physical things about me. I am so much more than a pretty face. Also, with him, it felt too good to be true. Something was off, and I was determined to find it.

When we were walking, he made a comment that we were looking for his roommate and the dog who went out for a walk. He then adds that his roommate was very upset with him.

Red Flag.

After eventually running into his roommate and making some brief introductions, we headed inside the apartment into his bedroom. I honestly didn’t want to hook up, and I’m glad we never made it to that point because it might have been hard to say no. But the more I looked around the room of a 30 year old DJ, the sadder I kind of felt. Was this where I was going to be at 30? In a shared apartment in the Valley still trying to figure out what exactly I wanted to do with my life? Not that I think he’s a loser or anything, but by 30 I would like to be married, in a house, and set on my career path.

While laying on the bed talking, I kept seeing his phone light up and continue to vibrate as a lot of text messages poured in. They were from his roommate, so I asked again if everything was okay. It seemed weird to me that his roommate was so upset, but after pestering with questions Patrick still never opened up about what was wrong. So as he was drunkenly trying to text back I looked at his phone and saw all the messages. They read things like”Fuck you” and “Get out you can’t live here anymore.” The texts were then proceeded by about 10 phone calls from him. It never ended.

It was weird, and immediately I felt uncomfortable. My mind went to worst case scenario and I thought, if I stay here, his roommate could murder us in our sleep. I barely knew Patrick, and I sure as hell didn’t know his roommate. My thoughts, however, were interrupted when I heard banging on the door.

That was the moment I for sure wanted to get the fuck out.

Patrick starts apologizing and saying he doesn’t know what’s going on, but all I knew was that I wanted to leave. I told him I was going to go and he asked if he could come stay with me. The nice guy in me mumbled “sure,” but the less fearful one inside screamed “no.” I didn’t want this guy coming home with me, and I no longer wanted to be in that apartment, but I already said he could come so he started to change and ordered an uber. When he opened the phone to call the Uber the Grindr app was right there and immediately I was turned off to the whole thing. I may hook up with guys, but I don’t use Grindr to do it. I go on dates with them and I get to know them. I don’t order dick to my door like cheesy bread.

“Hi, can I get that with a side of STD?”

As we leave the bedroom, his roommate comes out of his room and proceeds to yell goodbye to me as I’m awkwardly waiting by the front door for Patrick. I open the door and stand in the apartment hallway  waiting for him to follow, but then I hear his roommate start yelling at him “I didn’t know WHAT boy you would bring home tonight!”

And with that, I ran.

I didn’t want to be there while they argued and I heard things I surely didn’t want to hear. I ran out of his building and I looked back to see if I was being followed. He didn’t follow me, and I felt a wave of relief wash over me as I stood on the street alone. I called my own uber, but then thought why would I pay for one when he had ordered it? I guess I wanted to be nice and not use his, but he just put me through the most awkward and uncomfortable experience of my dating life. So when his Uber arrived, I hopped in and went home. Why the fuck should I pay for the escape from the hell he put me in?

Later that night he sent some drunken apology and the next day he sent another. He never explained the situation, just apologized that it happened. I didn’t really accept it, and honestly I’m kind of thankful. Maybe that was the universe’s way of showing me early on not to waste my time. Another lesson to be learned is that I should just say no if I want to, because I have the right to do that. I find that I give in just to be nice, but why risk myself for the sake of a stranger? It kills me not knowing why that roommate was mad, but from the sound of it it seems like he might be in love with Patrick.

Well, Patrick’s roommate, you can have him. I pass.

 

 

 

Chance Encounter

I haven’t seen my ex since the breakup in January. I think about him from time to time, but really it’s just a distant memory that I struggle to believe was once real. How could someone be so close and then a complete stranger? Do people change, or are we still the same and we just forget what they were once like?

I have always imagined the moment I would see Shay in person and It always went one of two ways.

1. I’m awkward, I say hi, and give him a hug. Not really sure where it goes from there.
2. I make it a point he see’s me, and then I blatantly ignore him.

I kind of did a mix of the two when the time came that I would finally have my chance encounter with him. And in my mind, I would like to think I walked away on top.

It all happened when I wanted to go to WeHo to celebrate Halloween. I dressed myself to the nines and donned my black and white marching band jacket to be a member of My Chemical Romance’s Black Parade. I had my neighbor paint my face to look like a Skeleton, and It was absolutely perfect! I looked completely unrecognizable, and it was up to the imagination to fill in what my face actually looked like without all of the makeup.

I really wanted to go to WeHo because there is a very attractive DJ at my favorite bar who, two weeks prior, gave me his number. I wanted to see him again, and I really wanted to show off the amazing makeup my neighbor did for me. It was going to be a win win for me, and it was.

It was even better than I could have ever imagined.

When I entered the bar I headed straight towards the DJ, and as I neared him, I saw Shay standing on the dance floor right in front of him. My heart suddenly jumped, and I immediately ran back towards the entrance of the bar to update my friends on the situation. I didn’t know what I was about to get myself into, but I wanted to make sure I had backup.

This was it. This was the moment I was finally going to see Shay again. But it wasn’t how I had wanted him to see me after all this time. I wanted him to see my body. Notice how much it’s changed, how much I’ve been working out, and how strong and healthy I now am. I wanted him to see what he was missing, and how I turned out to be everything he wanted, but something he could never have.

But I didn’t let my want of the situation stop me from doing what came next.

I wasn’t about to back down. So I marched right up to him, grabbed his shoulder, and said hi.

He looked at me like I was crazy, and then it dawned on me he had no idea who I was because of all the makeup. He looked so confused and kind of scared, and for a moment, it felt like I had all the power.

I quickly told him it was me and he was shocked. I can’t even remember what he said, but just hearing his voice again kind of gave me butterflies. I wasn’t attracted to him, but just being close to him again felt strange. It kind of made me feel fuzzy and sad, and I couldn’t help but question everything. Was it real between us? Did he ever think of me? Did he ever miss me? But as quick as it came, was as quick as it went, and within a few seconds I was back in control of my emotions.

His new boyfriend was there, but he didn’t introduce me. Instead, he reintroduced me to a friend who I had previously met and we ended up chatting a bit. Shay didn’t seem keen on talking to me, I got the vibe that he was uncomfortable, but the best thing was I wasn’t. I felt totally in control, and strangely, elated. It felt good to confront him and kill him with kindness than hate and disdain. I mean him no ill and I hope he is happy, and my mission that night, was to show him how happy I was too.

I spent some time catching up with his friends as his boyfriend stood far away dancing. His boyfriend was dressed as Kimmy Schmidt and I admired the costume, so I went up and gave him a compliment. It was the only words I said to him, and I meant them. It was a pretty cool and clever costume. I wonder, however, if they went home that night and talked about me. I bet they did, and whether it was good or bad it doesn’t matter. I made an impact, and even if it was awkward or uncomfortable, I stood my ground and finally said “nothing will shake me.”

After hello’s and some catching up, I made it a point to excuse myself to go talk to the DJ. When I walked up to him he immediately gave me a big hug and left me alone on his stage while he went and got me a drink. As I stood up there dancing and overlooking people below, I could feel Shay and his friends staring at me. It was like there eyes were asking, “what’re you doing up there,” and I left it to Shay’s imagination to fill in the blanks. I wanted them to see me with him, and I wanted to make it look like there was more between the DJ and I than there really is. I know I shouldn’t worry about impressing an ex, but everybody wants to make sure they look good to the person post breakup. Success, truly is the best revenge.

Ultimately Shay left without a goodbye, but what did I expect? Him to say bye to me, his ex boyfriend?  I’m not sure where the rest of his night took him, but the following day he finally posted his first photo of him and his new boyfriend. Maybe seeing me was the push he needed to do it.

You’re welcome Shay’s boyfriend.