Not Letting Go

People think “Get over him already” is good advice for a heartbreak, but let me just tell you, it’s not. It makes you feel like you’re doing something wrong because you can’t let go, or that your love was meaningless. It tries to take something that was once so big and make it small and insignificant. And I personally fucking HATE it.

I know I have dedicated a lot of these previous posts to my last relationship, and although it was shitty and terrible and he’s a jerk, it was still one of the most impactful and painful break up’s I have ever faced. And this isn’t a post dedicated to me wanting him back. This is an explanation for why I will never truly let him go.

As an artist, and especially as a performer, I pull from my past experiences to help me create. I don’t run from the way I feel, lock it up, and pretend I’m devoid about what is the best thing about being human.

I like to take these experiences and make poetry with it. I write a lot of poems about Aidon, sometimes saying the thing I wish I could have said, but they are not a plea for him to come back. On the contrary, they’re the therapy helping to exercise him out. And this is what I try to explain to people who tell me to get over him, but most of the time they just don’t understand.

You notice how there is a difference in grips? Like when drinking something you grip it firmly so it doesn’t spill, and how if you grip it softly it will slip? Both grips are a way of holding on, but notice how with one you can easily lose the very you’re trying to hold on to? This is what it’s like when I hold onto my ex. I still touch him, but I am not gripping in a way where I’m afraid to lose what I am holding on to. Like I’m a little further from the fire but I can still benefit from it’s warmth.

Aidon is my muse. He’s what I will continue to use for as long as I can, and If it makes me feel better to use him in my art what is wrong with that? Why do I have to forget and act like he doesn’t exist to me? I’m not hurting anyone else by using my experiences and making poetry or blog posts out of it.

So the next time you try telling someone to get over it, first try and understand why they’re in it. If I was on the floor bawling everyday just dying for him to come back then yes help me snap out of it all. But I’m not. I’m healing, and I’m not sorry that my process might look different than yours. That’s what make’s us beautiful.

 

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.

 

 

What My Pride Can’t Say

Aidon,

I’ve spent so much time just thinking and reflecting, but somehow never forgetting. I can’t seem to forget anything about this whole experience. I’m not sure I want to if I’m being totally honest. When someone shakes your world and changes both your heart and your mind, how can you just forget about them?

I can’t.

I channel it into art, poetry, and all forms of my writing. I think mainly I’m just trying to write my way into understanding because I will never understand how you so easily forgot, moved on, and never once thought to look back.

I always thought we meant more than that.

People think the distance between us should make things easier, but it doesn’t. I think maybe it’s because the distance is so vast it makes everything about us feel small and meaningless and I hate that. Because to me, all of this was real. Nothing about the way I felt was fake, and it was unlike anything I had experienced before. I guess that’s what makes the aftermath so difficult as well.

I hope you don’t misinterpret why I’m writing you. This is not some confession that I’m madly in love with you and I want us back. This is just me breaking the silence that we so casually built between us. It’s me bringing some misunderstanding into the light. It’s me just simply trying to keep growing.

A part of myself wants to know if any of this was hard for you, and another part of myself knows I can’t really handle any more of your “truths.” It took me awhile to stop looking at your social media, but when I saw your vacations and the joy on your face with him, I knew I was just hurting myself deeper than you initially did. That pain was all on me.

When I was with you in Australia my emotions were so blindsided I couldn’t decide on how to feel. Love triumphed, which gave me patience, but I have still yet to find forgiveness. I can’t seem to forgive you for what you did to me. I go from anger, to hurt, to sadness, to just feeling like a dumb American.

You left me alone, after I flew across the world to be with you because you said you loved me, and then you ran after someone else. You wanted both of us, and in the end chose what was easier and more convenient. I can’t blame you for that. It’s easier to keep your life the way it is than to do something drastic that could alter it all together. But no one really grows in their comfort zone, and everything about you threw me out of mine. Heck I was supposed to be living with you in Australia right now! Nothing could have thrown me out of my zone more than that. Maybe that’s why I have taken so much away from this experience. I’m not going to pretend to know where you are in your life. I can only focus on myself and where I’m going, but I will never forget where I’ve been.

Why didn’t you try harder to keep me in your life? Why did you just let me walk away?

I know it’s easy to move on when you have your focus on someone else. I did not have that luxury, nor do I want it. I had my focus on you, and how you were able to balance two hearts for so long I will never understand. I bet it was easier to move on because you never had to see my pain, and maybe that is how distance could be beneficial for you. But I refuse to throw myself in a relationship just to forget my previous one.

I am thankful I allowed myself to break for you because I now have so much more clarity on what I want, what I need, and who I am. Now I can learn to love myself in all the ways you and I couldn’t. You never really know how little you know yourself until you actually take the time alone to learn it. But the more I learn, the more I realize how hard it is to grow. I guess maybe that’s why they have the term growing pains because even flowers must push their way through dirt before they can truly bloom and be beautiful. So many people settle in their lives, and I refuse to be one of them. So bring on the dirt, bring on the pain, because  I’ll be basking in the sun looking amazing. Alright, that’s enough of the poetic references for me.

Aid if we’re meant to be in one another’s life like we always believed, then time should never change that. So no matter how long it is until we speak again or see one another, I hope one day we can connect in a way that was better than before. Let that be the one truth you gave me.

Love,

KTN

Sparks Again

Tonight I went on a date.

Shocking, I know. A blog about dating and I start this post with, “I went on a date,” like it’s some absurd thing. But if you’ve been following along you will know that this is actually huge since that pesky think called a break up that I just went through.

His name is Alec and we met on this new app I just got called Hinge. They’re not paying me to say this, but so far it’s my favorite dating app. It’s very organized, people on it actually talk to one another, and the boys (for the most part) are cute as hell. I even matched with a YouTube celeb! But back to Alec.

We met at my favorite pizza spot because it was the only real location I knew between where we both live. He and I probably live about 40 minutes from one another, which if you’re a LA snob, would be considered “too far.” But if you know me you know that clearly I have no problem with a little distance. I mean, I dated someone in Australia for crying out loud! I don’t think I can get much further than that, well, until they colonize Mars. Then knowing my luck I would probably even try to do intergalactic distance because why the fuck not. I love challenges apparently.

Leading up to the date I knew I was going to have a good time. He had a great sense of humor and I felt connected to him right away when we first started chatting, but I was also having a great day in general so I was open to more positivity and connectivity.

When I saw him standing outside the restaurant I immediately began to size him up. He was both taller and thinner than I imagined and a lot more handsome in person. Not that I didn’t think he was attractive going into this, but sometimes photos can be a let down. I mean that’s honestly how I feel about mine. I get so insecure I won’t live up to the facade I parade on social media. I’m working on insecurity though, and it’s totally a part of my whole process of learning self love.

I gave him a hug, but I never know what the proper response is to meeting an online date for the first time. Are you supposed to hug or shake hands? Or just do nothing and say hi? I’m not sure what’s “proper,” but I always hug. I’m a hugger.

When we were waiting in line to order our pizza we were already instantly connected in conversation. There was no awkwardness, it was extremely playful and flirty, and it was comfortable like we’ve known one another for awhile. It was nice, and it felt so refreshing to just be myself again without being anxious on a date. The best part was, I completely forgot about my ex while I was with him.

One of the big issues with Alec though is that he doesn’t like Taylor Swift, but I think that’s something we can work on. But in reality everything about him is pretty great. He has a wonderful sense of humor, kind blue eyes, and such a genuine energy about him. I made a ton of poor jokes throughout the night that were mainly funny to me, and despite him poking fun at my humor, I just knew we would get along well. For example when we talked ethnicity he said his dad was 100% Danish and I asked, “Cherry or Apple?”

I thought it was hilarious.

While talking though I could tell he is the type of person I would fall for, and I made sure I took note of that so I don’t lose myself in him if this is something I decide to pursue further. Plus he is a people pleaser, and to me that is a BIG red flag. People pleaser’s tend to hurt people by being deceitful to make others happy, so I made sure I took a mental note of that as well. I’m not putting a wall up, but I am making sure I’m cautious in future relationships so I don’t end up hurting like I have in the past. After all no one is going to protect my heart better than myself.

After dinner we walked to our cars together still stuck in conversation. On the side of the restaurant is a plaque with two handprints on it and some writing above each hand and the gist of it is that one person places their hand on the handprint and a stranger places their hand on the other and you remove your hands once you’re no longer strangers. I placed my hand on one of the handprints and read it aloud while he placed his hand on the other. When I finished reading he goes, “But we’re not strangers,” and then leaned in and kissed me. It was so romantic and perfect and made my frozen heart melt a little. It was the perfect moment for a first kiss and I will definetly always remember it, especially because I go to that pizza place all the time.

When we reached our cars he pulled me in and kissed me again while he held me with such confidence. It was nice, and I could tell he genuinely cared. I don’t know if that makes sense but there was just something about his grasp that felt good, and I haven’t felt that good in a very long time.

He asked to see me again and I didn’t want to appear eager so we never set a date. He said we had to hang in his neighborhood next time, and I smartly replied “What makes you think I have to go to you?” This made him laugh and he retorted with, “We all know who wears the pants in this relationship,” and that just made me laugh even harder back because he has no idea what he’s in for.

I like the me I portray when I’m first getting to know someone because it’s my true self. I’m carefree, not afraid to be myself, and I actually eat my dinner because I’m not a self conscious nervous mess. Overall, I’m confident, but somehow I lose it as relationships progress. I’m working on it.

I don’t know where Alec and I will go. This could be it for us or there could be more dates to come, but honestly it doesn’t matter to me. Because for the first time I felt a little spark, and that’s enough to help remind myself that I can move on and love again.

 

F*CK YOU

Sometimes, the best way to get over someone bad for you is to simply tell them to fuck off.

Let me set the stage for you.

For those following my Aidon/Danny journey you know I left Australia to come home after Aidon told me he picked Danny. For those new to my blog welcome, and here’s a brief history.

I met a boy from Australia. After many visits to me in LA he made me believe we were in love. Turns out he has a secret side lover (Danny) but he confessed he wanted me. I fly to Australia to seal the deal. He sends me home saying he was wrong and wants Danny. Then he tells me he wants neither of us and that he needs to focus on himself. I, being a dummy, believe him. ONE week passes since I got back from Australia and I’m a sad mess. Well, until now.

I’m super intuitive. Okay, you may be thinking if I’m intuitive why didn’t I see the whole Danny thing coming, but honestly I did. I just ignored it because my stubborn ass will do ANYTHING to make love finally fucking work. Well as I sat, sad on my parents floor, I got a hunch to look at Danny’s instagram. I just knew I would see something, and lo and behold, I did. He posted an instagram story of a bird perched on Aidon’s balcony and I fucking lost it.

I mean, I guess I had no right to be angry, I did decide to walk away. But I walked away thinking I still had a chance. Again, what an idiot I was for still wanting this asshole, but I did. Just because someone turns out to be a dick doesn’t mean the love just goes away.

But I was so upset because just days before, he was telling me he was taking the time to focus on himself and he still didn’t know what he wanted. Now here was Danny, in his apartment, while I sat lonely on the other side of the world. So I did what I should have done a long time ago, I let him fucking have it.

I asked him all my questions, even the painful ones, and watched as he danced around them. I turned the pressure on hotter and then eventually I got my answers. He was picking Danny. Even if I lived there he would have still picked Danny. I had no chance. He then had the AUDACITY to keep telling me that he wanted to be friends and that we are meant to be in each others life and things could possibly not “work” with Danny. FUCK OFF if you think I’m about to be your friend and have you in my life. It’s like he was trying to give me some sense of hope that he could still choose me.

So I told him everything I was holding back. I told him how I thought he was selfish, arrogant, and completely full of shit. I know I should have ended maturely and nicely, but read my old posts leading up to this and you will know that’s what I’ve been doing. It was finally time to let my inner bitch out.

In the end I never found out why he picked Danny over me. But I think it’s because he could control him and I can’t be. I have too much of a mind of my own to be persuaded and manipulated. He may have fooled me for awhile, but he can fuck off if he thinks he can do it again.

So now I’m no longer sad. I’m angry, and anger is a lot more motivational than sadness. I finally feel energized to get up and keep going, and I finally found the strength to block him on all forms of social media. I can’t believe I was about to change my entire life for him. I know love is blind, but did it have to make me fucking dumb too?

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.

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.

 

 

 

Sherlock

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.

 

 

 

Equations

I’ve never really been good at math. I got a C my freshmen year and cheated in AP Calculus my senior year off of a sophomore who was in the class. Needless to say, numbers aren’t my strong suit. But words, words were always my forte. I loved English, and I love to express myself. Maybe that is why I hated math, how do you express yourself with numbers? Here’s a way, right now, I feel like a zero.

I had an epiphany the other morning. It all started when my ex boyfriends new boyfriend blocked me on Snapchat. Okay, you’re probably all thinking, “why the fuck would you be following your exes new boy on social media!” But let me give you a brief backstory so I don’t look crazy. There is a logical reason, I promise.

So one day while swiping through tinder this boy popped up. He wasn’t really my type, but our one common connection was my ex and I thought that was interesting. They didn’t have any ties to one another so obviously they met through Tinder. I swiped right, I wanted to steal him from Shay, and he and I were a match. We started talking, following one another on social media, and texting. I tried to meet up, but realized I didn’t want to go through all that effort to sabotage a new relationship for Shay. I didn’t like this Tinder boy and my intentions were pure evil; destroy Shay. So I let it go. I stopped texting, and moved on with my life leaving my little plan aside. One day, however, I see them hanging out on Snapchat and I knew my intuition was right that eventually they would get together. When I saw it, I felt weird. I knew eventually Shay would move on, but I didn’t expect to see it. But in today’s day and age, how can one really disconnect and avoid anything? Tinder boy, however, still followed me and would look at my snap stories. Did he not know I was Shane’s ex?

The other day though, I wanted to test the waters. So I sent Tinder boy a snap. He didn’t respond, and the following day, he blocked me. I knew once I reached out he would block me. Frankly, it was weird he was following me and weird I was following him and know all this random information. I’m very intuitive about stupid shit. So THAT is how I came about Tinder boy. Looking back, I do look a little crazy.

Back to the epiphany. I realized, because of Tinder boy’s blockage, that all of my exes are happily in a relationship with someone. And I’m not exaggerating. Every guy I have ever liked, is currently with someone. Mo, the guy who originated this whole blog for me, is out in Burning Man right now celebrating a one year anniversary. Mo, the boy who never loved anyone or spent a significant time dating someone, is celebrating one fucking year. Ryan, my first boyfriend who is kipped over in this blog, is also with someone. Shay, my most recent boyfriend, is currently with someone. And even my ex girlfriend is engaged to be married! The only person who is not with someone, is me. And it’s not that I have to be with anyone. I don’t, but looking at those I once loved in love with someone else, is painful. I sometimes wonder if I am the problem in the equation of dating. Am I the factor that needs to be subtracted in order to find the right answer? Yes, there is Corbit. He and I are still talking, but I am not in a relationship. I don’t have someone to lean on that I love.

I shouldn’t be consumed by those of the past while they live their future, but I can’t help but to look. I’m glad they’re happy, I really am. But I suppose I want that for myself too. I know I have to be patient. As Diana Ross once sang, “you can’t hurry love you just have to wait.” Well Miss Ross, I am tired of waiting. But I’m keeping my head up, and in the meantime, out of my exe’s social media.