I think I’m a glutton for pain, or maybe I just like doing things I know are bad for me because I can’t help myself. I am human, and the more I talk with people, the more I realize my views on life are constantly changing. If you’ve been reading this blog from the beginning, I am not that same boy I used to be. I was never the man who would be okay with a one night stand, I’ve actually written some posts condemning the whole thing. But I have done them on more than one occasion, and I can’t help but think I was wrong in slut shaming. I’ve started to slut shame myself for some of the things I’ve done, and I think this is the complete wrong mentality to have about oneself. I’m not completely on board with the idea of one night stands, but I’m not really against them either. I’m kind of stuck in this in-between world where I’ve been on both sides, and still just one doesn’t feel completely right.  Maybe there is a balance I have yet to find, some way to not give into the gay stereotype but also not to be a prude. For the longest time I thought I’ve had that, but after going back to my one night stand for the 4th time, I can’t help but think I am a lost little mess looking for someone to clean up.

I met up with Daniel (one night stand/bae) again for the 4th time. This time we were going to have sex and I had no collateral to give, we were having sex because we wanted to. Well, I wanted to. I can’t actually tell what he feels for me. 

When I arrived at his house I assumed we would head straight to his room, but instead, we plopped on the sofa and watched American Horror Story with his roommates. I tried not to read into it, but a part of me at least felt like he wasn’t embarrassed by me if he is bringing me around his roommates. It was like I was more than just a hit it and quit it. Not saying he liked me, but he at least liked me enough to bring me around as a friend.

After we watched an episode we headed back into his bedroom where he put on another show and just held me as we watched it. I felt so uncomfortable laying on his body. I was trying not to overthink, but I kept asking myself if he was uncomfortable, or I was too heavy on his arms, or if he is waiting for me to make a move. Since we were in HIS bedroom I felt like he should be the one making the moves. I know he likes confidence, and when I’m with him, I feel anything but. It’s because I don’t know a single damn thing about him. I don’t know what he likes, what’s a turn off, or what exactly he wants from me. Is it just sex? Friendship? Is there a possibility for something more? I don’t know, and I find him so impossible to read. He is vanilla, but could someone honestly be that one dimensional? I know he has layers, so I spent some time after sex trying to find out.

I kept asking him questions, small important questions, but to him they were “basic” and “meaningless.” I’m sorry, but what the hell did he expect me to ask? “Do you have daddy issues and that’s why you’re gay?” 

The conversation went something like this:

“are you irritated with my questions?”

“No. but they’re just basic.”

“Would you rather me ask tougher questions?”

“I don’t get why you’re asking me?”

“Because I care.”

There it was. I admitted that a part of me cared and genuinely wanted to know more about him beyond the sex. He was quiet after that and we went to sleep. But if THIS was just about sex for me, why did I care? 

I know him and I would never be more than what we are now. I don’t think he would ever understand or appreciate me the way I would want to be understood and appreciated. The most he’s ever asked me about my life is “What did you do today?” Hey, I guess that’s a start. 

But the reason I think I am so curious about him is because I am attracted to him. I do like the way his lips feel on mine, it was like they were meant to kiss one another. I’m not trying to be poetic, but when someone matches your kissing style, that’s not something you should just completely ignore. The reporter in me is also so fascinated by him because I know absolutely nothing about him. He is hard to read, and honestly, hard to talk to. I’m always afraid I’m going to say something wrong that will make him not like me. But again, why do I care? I know I shouldn’t, but he makes me question everything, especially my confidence. I think maybe what I need to learn from this whole thing is how to be confident in myself and my body. Because I know I constantly want approval from others, especially the ones I like.

I don’t think it was wrong for me to want to know more about him. And my curiosity isn’t just because a part of me wants to be with him. I think it’s because I am not the type of guy to just have sex with anybody, so the fact that I’m having sex with someone I don’t really know blows my mind. But as Charlotte on Sex and The City once said, “How well do we really know the people we sleep with?” 

And in this case, I know nothing.

Not even how he thinks of me.




I Had Sex For Tickets

Red Concert Tickets

This probably wasn’t my proudest moment, but I don’t regret it. This, however, has been a new low for me. What happened to the boy who cursed mindless hook ups? Have I become desensitized to sex? Yet strange enough, sex still bears a lot of meaning to me. So why was I so able and willing to disconnect myself and allow myself to do something I would never normally do?

I finally got the attention of my one night stand. I don’t know why he fascinates me so much. He really is a self centered conceited asshole, but I swear there is some connection I feel and I feel drawn to him. Maybe it’s lust, or maybe the fact I am struggling getting over Corbit, but when I see his name pop up on my phone I feel butterflies. It’s been so long I forgot what that even felt like. I almost thought I wouldn’t feel that again.

After our one night stand we text for like half a day until he just disappeared. I kept checking my phone hoping to see his name pop up and it never came. I felt deflated, but I couldn’t understand why I was so down. I think my pride took a hit, and I couldn’t face that after having just flown across the country and getting rejected. I needed to be on the up, and I thought he and I could have a little fun.

A few days later I text him asking if he wanted to get together again and he didn’t reply. I thought that was it, that we had a brief hook up and he was out. I started doing all the shit people do when they get ghosted. I started questioning my looks, my body, and second guessing who I was. I was becoming so insecure and it is not like me to act like that. Normally, I would say fuck it and move on. But why the hell did I want this guy to like me? Maybe the dick was just too good. 

I remember him mentioning wanting to see Dixie Chicks and the radio station I work for was giving tickets away, so I sent him a picture of the tickets. I don’t know why I text him the photo, I just couldn’t quit and I knew this would get a response. He wanted the tickets, and went into him telling me once he quits his job he will have more time to hangout with me. Bullshit, this guy just wanted tickets from me not to actually see me, but oddly enough I was okay with this. By him responding, my pride started to recover. He was using me, but I was also using him. I wanted to have sex, and I was going to use these tickets to get it. 

I told him he could have the tickets which kept the conversation flowing, and without directly telling him I wanted to have sex, I asked what I got in this whole deal. He said, “we could fuck” and I knew I had him right where I wanted him. I don’t want to sound conceited, but I could find guys pretty easily, so why was I selling myself so damn short and allowing this. I wanted to see what he would be like in bed, and honestly, it was as good as I thought. 

The reality of the situation hit me the following morning. As I sat on his bed scrolling through my phone his roommate came in and started talking to me thinking I was him. When she realized I wasn’t and introduced herself I knew that was the girl he was attending the concert with. I asked if she was excited for the show, and the first words out of her damn mouth were, “Did you bring the tickets?”

I felt used. It was a low blow, and I just sat there a bit dumbfounded. Did I seriously want to hook up with someone so bad I unintentionally bribed him? And what kind of guy was he to do something like that? It was all shades of fucked up.

 I was breaking the mold of who I am, or, who I was. I am not saying I’m some sex fiend now who is going to fuck everything and everyone in sight, but I did feel a little liberated after all this. I did something wild, and as long as you remain safe, let your wild side free.

As my co-worker once said, “If this job ain’t getting you paid, it better be getting you laid.” And that night, laid was what I was getting.

Thank you work perks, and sorry morals/standards.