To Share or Not To Share, That is the Question?

So it’s been awhile since I have updated, but I do have updates. Plenty of them, however, let’s start with Alec. He is the most pressing issue I have on hand, and he is full of lessons I can’t seem to be capable of learning. Or maybe, I refuse to learn.

Alec is someone I met about 2 months ago through the app Hinge. We hit it off right away and have been talking ever since. We’re not exclusive, and I must admit I’ve slept with one other person since we met, but I felt so guilty for it. Why? Because when I realize I like someone, anything feels like cheating if it isn’t for them. Maybe that sounds drastic, but that is just how I’m wired. I don’t fall for people often, but when I do, I fall. Hard.

Alec is the first boy I’ve liked since Aidon. He is the first one to make me believe again that I can love someone else, and to me that means something. When we’re together he acts like a boyfriend. Kisses me every time he sees me, holds my hand when we’re out, and has met all of my friends. But then sometimes it feels like I mean nothing to him except sex.

Alec is leaving in a couple months to teach english in Japan, so whatever relationship we have is ultimately doomed, however I don’t know how to like him and not want more. I’m trying to be casual with him, my feelings, and the whole situation. This is all uncharted territory for me, yet I feel myself getting passive aggressive with him like we’re lovers and I can’t stop it.

For example, he promised he would be at my show and didn’t show up. I was extremely hurt and bummed because when you like someone, you want them to see you in your element. I wanted him to watch me perform because it meant a lot to me to be sharing my art on stage in front of people. But when he didn’t show, and gave some lame excuse he was tired, I felt myself wanting to shut down and just close him out. But I fought against it and tried to brush it all aside like I didn’t care. Is that how we have to play the love game in order to win? Pretend to be casual and not let things that hurt us actually hurt us?

He took me on a date to make up for missing my performance, and 2 glasses of wine later, we got on the topic of him leaving. One thing led to another and he admitted to me he has also been seeing other people. Immediately something in me shut off. I was hurt, and I could feel myself wanting to cry. It wasn’t directed towards just him, but I could feel the weight of his words on my shoulder like it was being pushed down by the boys of my past. I thought about Aidon and him picking Danny. I thought of every single one of my breakups and how I felt like I wasn’t enough. And now, here sitting across from me, was a boy I liked who was making me feel the exact same way all over again.

I understand he is leaving, but I don’t understand how to not have feelings. I told him I was going to hold back, that I didn’t want to get hurt, and I was afraid of him hurting me. I was being honest, but I was also scared I was being too honest. I want to be the boy who doesn’t care. The one who can hide his feelings behind nonchalant smiles and laughs. But I can’t. I don’t want to share him, and if that’s what he wants then maybe I am not the man for him right now. Is it drastic of me to want to walk away just because we can’t reach a level of monogamy? I’ve done the hook ups. I’ve played this game. I want something serious. As Carrie Bradshaw once said, I just want to be the one. Someone tell me I’m the one.

He asked me why I liked him and I never spoke about the physical. When I asked him in return, one of his responses was “sexual chemistry.” In all honesty, I’ve had better sex. That’s not to say I don’t enjoy sex with him because I really do, but I wouldn’t put sex on my list of liking someone. Maybe because I desire emotional connection more than a physical one. Physicality is easy to come by, but a heart, that’s the rare thing to find nowadays.

So what do you all think?

Should I keep seeing Alec even though it’s probably just for regular sex until he leaves and maybe I can practice falling for someone without losing myself? 

or

Call it quits and put my focus and attention on someone who actually cares and wants a relationship because my heart has been through enough? 

Always a Bridesmaid Never a Bride

I wonder if I’m listed in a guide book somewhere as an attraction. Like, the most amazing place to visit but never stay. One of those exotic caves filled with glow worms or stalagmites. Amazing to see and be inside of, but never the place where you go “I want to live here.”

I went out this past weekend to the gay bars in West Hollywood with my friend Tim. He and I have a unique friendship. We are incredibly close, never been sexual, and used to serve together in church. We both discovered the other was gay when we ran into one another a few years ago at a bar. I remember seeing him, marching straight up to his face and drunkenly saying, “What’re you doing here!?” Ever since then, we’ve always gone out to bars together. That pretty much seems to be our friendship. Hoe’s that party together, stay together.

While out we started just taking drinks down, and the next thing I knew I was 3 vodka soda’s deep and I was feeling pretty damn good. We hopped from bar to bar checking out who we thought were cute and I ran into some people I knew. Without fail, there always seems to be the same people out in WeHo. I hope no one ever looks and me and thinks, “Oh he’s a regular.”

We were in this new bar called Beaches when I saw this guy I followed on instagram but had never met. I remember seeing him like 5 years ago on OkCupid thinking he was cute. I thought he had a boyfriend so I never tried to push anything, but drunk me was at least determined to finally meet him.

I don’t know how it happened or even why, but I walked up to him and briefly/awkwardly introduced myself. It’s so weird how it’s acceptable to say you know someone from instagram and immediately it’s like you’re somehow friends. He said he recognized me but wasn’t entirely sure who I was. I gave him a brief history and then went on my way to go buy a tub of ice cream from the grocery store on the corner and a bottle of water.

I must be a sight to see when I go out. Here I was eating a tub of ice cream while my other drunk friend scarfed down two slices of pizza and I didn’t give two fucks what anyone thought. I always like to end my nights with ice cream, and I usually grab extra spoons in case anyone else I meet on the street wants to partake in some drunchies (drunk munchies).  It’s my form of “giving back” to the community.

While enjoying my caramel pretzel ice cream I got a notification on my phone from that guy I ran into in the bar. He wrote me saying how cute he thought I was and I drunkenly just asked him to come home with me.

10 minutes later we were making out in the backseat of an uber with hands in pants I almost thought we were about to make a baby. And despite the fact I was now hooking up with someone I’ve admired for years, there was one major problem, he had a boyfriend.

Somewhere in between kisses I remembered he was dating someone and then we briefly talked about it. He spoke so negatively about his relationship and how his boyfriend cheats all the time and how he practically “hates” him. And although a sober me wouldn’t have kept hooking up, drunk me didn’t care. I just remember telling him he is the type of person that gives love a bad name and how offended he was by my comment. And although drunk me lost some standards and I felt like a home wrecker, I was still proud that I called out bullshit when I saw it. Even if I went against it. I acknowledged it, and that to me is a start.

Next thing I know we’re laying breathless in my bed from amazing sex. Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was the weed, or maybe genuinely it was just good sex. He was a great kisser, knew what he was doing, and he had a solid tight muscular body. I felt close to someone, but after when I was all ready to cuddle, he was passed out on the bottom of my bed. I curled up by myself, and despite just having someone inside me, I felt empty without him holding me. I think truthfully that was just the type of intimacy I needed and wanted. I wanted to hold someone goodnight.

When we awoke the next morning he asked if we had sex. Wow, he didn’t even fucking remember, and then he went on to rant about his boyfriend and how when they’re “done” he is going to ask me out. I just wanted him to leave so I could get a few more hours of sleep before I had to go to work. He proceeded to go down on me and then swallowed when I was finished. That was pretty hot, and not something men have done often for me in the past. I always fall for these “straight” gays who are like afraid of dick and semen, but this guy was all for it and in the moment I was all for him wanting it.

The following night I went out again to celebrate a birthday party and drunk me should not be allowed on instagram. This really cute boy who I follow wrote me and we started chatting and flirting. He, per usual, had a boyfriend but kept telling me how badly he wanted me and how if we lived in the same state I’d get him in trouble. The messages went from flirty to dirty to full on sexual. The following morning he wrote me saying his boyfriend saw the messages and how he had to block me to prove to his boyfriend how faithful he was to him.

And then all of this got me thinking. One night I’m having sex with someone taken and then the next night I’m sexting someone else in a relationship. And then I started thinking about how my ex had someone before he met me and how he played us both but chose him instead.

So am I the problem? Am I a home wrecking slut? Why do I seem to be the one everyone wants to cheat on their boyfriend for but not the one they want to make their partner? How could I be someone worthy of risking your relationship but not worthy of keeping for the long haul?

Each of these guys talked about how they weren’t happy in their relationships, but for some reason they stay. They all settle for less than what they want and I will never understand why. Why is everyone so scared to be alone and just see what’s out there? Because when you try to hold onto something while looking for something else, you just end up hurting a lot more people than yourself.

 

 

Friendly Confession

Feelings are fickle. You never know when they’re going to show up and you’re never quite certain when they’re going to leave. And then the question remains, do they really go away or do they linger for forever?

I was at a going away party tonight for a friend who is moving to New York to pursue his dream of being on Broadway. We hadn’t spoken in long time, but I figured his party was a good excuse for me to kick my dry spell and see if he had any hot friends I could pick up on. Plus, I wanted some free food.

When I arrived at the party I immediately saw my “sassy gay best friend” Michael, and went to hangout with him since I didn’t really know anyone else. He’s not my real best friend, but that was the nickname we had for each other. We caught up on the formalities and then headed to the roof where everyone was smoking weed.

Once on the roof we started talking about the deeper more meaningful stuff. He asked me how I was doing in regards to Aidon and if I was still sad. Which, despite the clear fact I need to get the fuck over him, I am still sad. He asked what bother’s me and it was still the same stuff: the cheating, the hurt, the idea of love. I asked him if my feelings were ever going to go away and his response was, “No, but one day it just won’t hurt anymore.”

But all night I could tell something was bothering Michael, like he was withholding some lingering topic of conversation he couldn’t find a way to let out. I thought maybe he was mad at me for the night I let him go down on me when I was blackout drunk because I for sure didn’t want to let that moment give him any ideas that I was interested in more. I was simply just sad, hurting, and wanting to fill the void my ex left.

After an awkward encounter of the host asking if I was dating anyone, I found my way back to the front door and let myself out into the cold chilly winter LA air. The breeze on my face was such a relief compared to the cramped heated interior of my friends apartment.

Michael quickly followed me out and walked me back to my car, using the heat as an excuse to also escape the party. When we reached my car he finally confessed that he had something to tell me which just confirmed the hunch I had all night.

He started it off casually, and then told me he didn’t want my views of him to change. I knew immediately what he was going to say, and I awkwardly tried to do a million things to avoid his confession. I searched my trunk for a jacket, I wobbled back and forth, and I kept grabbing and swinging from a nearby telephone pole.

I had only seen Michael probably 3 times since our show together two years ago, and we’ve only spoken every so often. I confided with him a lot recently about the break up, so I wasn’t fully expecting what he had to tell me.

As we stood there, well he stood and I fidgeted, he confessed he had feelings for me and he’s had them for the past year.

Wait. Pause. Freeze.

He has had feelings for me for the past year even though we’ve hardly spoken and have barely seen one another? How is this possible, and why?

And then suddenly this terrified me.

He has been romantically feeling for me without me knowing and I honestly haven’t given him any thoughts like that since, well, since ever. But if he is like me then he thought of me during romantic moments of movies, certain songs, and practically anything that has to do with love. And this has been going on without my knowledge for a year.

I should explain why this scared me. It scared me because what if I become him but in regards to my ex? What if I hold onto something that isn’t there, and all the while I’m doing this, my ex isn’t ever thinking of me? How sad. How painful. How… disappointing.

I told him I appreciated him telling me, and he quickly interjected and said he doesn’t expect me to reciprocate but that he wanted me to know. And I did appreciate knowing. It was nice to know that someone likes me because I am so traumatized from flying across the world and getting rejected. My view of myself isn’t really at it’s current greatest.

But I did feel sad. I know what it’s like to to have feelings for someone and not have them reciprocated. And it just got me thinking, are we always going to be longing for what we can’t have? Will I always want people I’ve lost in my past? Am I ever going to truly move on? And how do we, as people, hold on to things that aren’t fighting to hold on back?

I know in time everything will make sense. But my friend has liked me for a year, and in that year he didn’t cross my mind once. Romance, is a fucking bitch.

Walking Blind

After a month and a half of being separated, I finally got the chance to be with Aidon in person again. Leading up to this moment we spent countless hours on the phone, texts and snaps were the norm, and the usual tag in a relatable meme was part of our routine. It was all leading up to him coming to visit California again on September 8th.

I was nervous as hell to see him. Were all the same feelings going to be there? Was he finally going to ask me to be his boyfriend? Were we actually falling in love or did I invent the whole thing in my head/heart?

He was coming back to work for 2 weeks and then he carved out 5 extra days where it was just him and I together with no distractions. And although I was going to practically see him everyday he was here, I was most looking forward to those 5 days. Those were going to be “our” days and I couldn’t wait to soak up every experience with him.

I arrived to the airport late, not an unusual coincidence for someone as careless as me, and when I saw him my heart stopped. I was so excited, and so overwhelmed, and he rushed to embrace me giving me a kiss that felt like the movies. I couldn’t stop kissing him after that, and I knew in that moment, all my feelings leading up to this were true. And suddenly I got very scared, because I knew I was going to fall deeper.

After countless hours in traffic on the way back to my apartment, we made our way to the bedroom. I couldn’t wait to just lay down with him, hold him close, and feel the warmth of his body against mine.

As the week progressed we spent all our time together. I would go to work, and then spend the remaining of my day with him. We would eat, watch movies, and just enjoy each others company. But I was so full of anxiety and I couldn’t figure out why. i didn’t know if my intuition was trying to tell me something or that I was just overthinking and on the verge of self sabotage.

He never got on his phone during dinner or private moments, but in the downtime like car rides and laying by the beach, he would pick it up and shoot a text. I tried to ignore it, but I felt so jealous about something and I couldn’t quite put my finger on it.

Aidon has this friend, back home, named Danny. All I knew of Danny was that he and Aidon were talking before he met me here in California. I didn’t know how serious they were, and at the time, I didn’t care. Aidon and I had just met, so who was I to feel any form of jealousy about his personal life back home? But somehow Danny remained in the picture after I came to be, and Aidon reassured me that they were just friends. So naturally I believed him. I mean, how can you establish a relationship without trust?

The more time I spent with Aidon the more a part of myself felt like he wasn’t fully mine. Something just seemed off, and after a romantic night together at dinner, I walked out of the restaurant to see Aidon on the phone. When I asked who it was he said it was Danny just calling to say goodnight. Wait, what? That to me was weird. Friends don’t just call to say goodnight. So I told Aidon, “Hey I think he likes you more than a friend.” Aidon obviously ignored it and denied Danny’s feelings, but I knew there was more to it.

Through the course of the trip I started to notice that Danny was watching all of my instagram stories, which just proved my point to Aidon that Danny liked him. When I finally told him, he said to me that he knew and asked him to stop. I reassured Aidon he wouldn’t stop, and as a way to prove my point, I posted a story of a beer with the caption that read, “Because I know you’re watching.” I followed that one up with a picture of Aidon with a caption that read, “Because part 2.”

Looking back, it was kind of a bitchy thing to do, but someone was trying to steal my man and I wasn’t just going to stand by and let it happen. No one fucks with America.

After about 30 minutes I checked to see if he saw, which he did, and immediately he was texting Aidon about how it hurt his feelings and that I wasn’t a good guy. Yet, Aidon was aware of what I just did. I couldn’t fucking figure out why Danny felt like he had some claim to Aidon. Why he thought he had the right to feel everything he was feeling towards him. Didn’t Aidon make it clear that he and I were a thing? Things just didn’t seem to add up to me, and after one drunken night together, I snooped through Aidon’s phone.

I wish I didn’t.

There I found texts between him and Danny which proved they were a lot closer than he led me to believe. There was a picture of Danny with a hickey, which Aidon told me later he gave him because of a game called Piccolo. There were texts about Danny saying he’s going to miss cuddling every night, which Aidon justified by saying that Danny was dramatic and that he cuddles with all his friends. Everything I asked, he had an answer to, and after awhile I didn’t want to think about it anymore. Aidon wasn’t officially my boyfriend, so did I have any right to be upset. Who was the other woman, me or Danny? And the crazy thing is, Aidon doesn’t treat me like he treated Danny. There conversations were so empty, short (On Aid’s end), and you could see how Danny tip toed around Aidon’s emotions. My conversations with Aidon are deep, I make him talk about emotion, and we talked often and about a future. I could tell, just by the few times I even heard him on the phone with Danny, that he was into me more than him. But why did he still keep him around? I asked if they were ever sexual and he told me no.

I didn’t believe that.

After I found those texts I couldn’t really focus. I was angry, sad, and I just didn’t know what to do. I wanted to believe Aidon, and call me foolish, but I didn’t tell him to go. I didn’t kick him out. I held on, because I knew what we had was love. I just also knew he still needed the time to figure it all out. Plus he wasn’t actually my boyfriend, and in the grand scheme of things, we only spent a week together before this and built an entire relationship on distance.

I probably sound so dumb building a fort of excuses for him. In reality he was leading both Danny and I on, but still I don’t know the extent of how much. I just know the way I feel for him, and so far it’s making me crazy and stupid. Is Aidon a good guy? Are there any good guys? Or am I just a fool who wants love so bad he can’t even see the dangers in front of his own eyes?

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.

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.