What To Do?

 

I say this city is home, but truthfully, I didn’t grow up inside Los Angeles. I grew up about 45 minutes away (without traffic) in what I call the last town in the county. So technically still LA, but not so much the dirt, grime, and desperation that slides through the streets of Hollywood. And oddly enough, this city doesn’t feel very much like home. But neither does home either.

I decided to stay in Los Angeles because it always seemed the place to be. It’s where my dreams of acting made the most sense, it’s where my family is, and nothing in the world could beat the weather. It’s a paradise people dream of, but why do I find myself dreaming of something else?

I long for a life a lot different than this. I envision small towns with a lot of history near the ocean and forests of green. I want to live in a place where there is a fire in a fireplace, snow, summer, and all the colors of autumn. I want a yard and a favorite bookshop down the cobblestoned streets with coffee and tea that will remind me of a childhood I never had. I want simplicity in such a sad and complicated world.

Yet on the flip side, I want to do and be amazing things. I want to create something that changes the world. I want to be a force of nature they would name a hurricane after. I want to be admired and loved, and I want to feel accomplished. I want to be wealthy, not for vanity’s sake, but so I never have to worry about it. I want a life that doesn’t concern itself with survival, but instead, focuses on living. Truthfully. Boldy. And with a ton of love. I want so much more than what I currently have I just don’t know how to get it.

I have so many passions, too many if you ask me. But they’re all there burning inside me like a flame consuming a library. I want to be a poet. An actor. A writer. A leader. An archaeologist. A husband. A traveler. An explorer. I tell my boyfriend that maybe these are all my past lives showing themselves to me in glimpses of inspiration. Today my passions tell me to write. Tomorrow they will tell me to read. Some days they tell me to sing. I feel like I am good at many things but not excellent in a single one. What use is a compass if no one uses it to go in a direction? And that’s what I want. A direction.  A sign to say what I should do in THIS lifetime. I’m afraid to settle, but I can’t yet decide what is the most important thing for me to fight for.

I just recently turned 28, and I feel as if I am running out of time to accomplish something. I look at other people my age and they seem to have it all figured out. I never thought I would be approaching thirty but still feel as lost as I was when I graduated high school. What I am learning, however, is that the older I seem to get the less I become excited about things. And if I feel this way now, imagine how I will feel at 50?

But I don’t want to be glum and say things are bad, because, they aren’t. Last year I self-published a book that was featured in various outlets including The LA Times, I have a boyfriend who is the epitome of what love should be, and I have my friends and family supporting and believing in me. I just feel disappointed I’m not where I thought I would be, but honestly, are we ever?

 

Is it fate or just a coincidence? Part 2

 

Read Part 1 here!

The second he said Sydney I knew it was him, and without missing a beat, I started spewing as many words and questions as I could get in over the music and before I lost his attention.

“Is your name Shaun? Are you a pilot? Did you date Aidon? I know Aidon!”

And then I started to tell a bit of my story, flying to Australia, falling in love, the cheating with Danny, and being left to return home alone.

We made our way to the bar, away from the sweaty bodies and pulsing music, where he bought me a drink as we started to compare our stories. We found a lot of inconsistencies. Aidon told me Shaun cheated on him, but in reality, Aidon cheated on Shaun. Leaving him to go back to his previous boyfriend, similar to what he did with me and Danny. Shaun apologized to me for what Aidon did and I apologized to him in return. It was like we were giving each other that apology that Aidon would never give to us, and in a weird way, it helped me release any lingering feelings I might have been holding on to.

We then Facetimed our friend Jacqui because she would never believe that we would have met in the most random bar in all of LA, and while on the call, Shaun leaned over and kissed me. I don’t know what his intention was, maybe for her to relay that message back to Aidon, but I didn’t mind. Maybe a part of myself wanted to get revenge too, but more importantly, I thought he was so cute.

Shaun’s sister approached us drunk and ready to leave. I didn’t want to say goodbye, and lucky for me, neither did he. When he stepped outside to hop in an uber with her, he text and asked me to tag along too.

“Nothing suss,” he proclaimed, “I just want to keep talking.”

And the thing was, I did too.

I told my best friend where I was going, leaving her in the arms of a beautiful tall stranger, and then I was off into the cab with someone who felt like a little piece of home.

After we dropped his sister off we began walking through the streets just talking. We’d occasionally touch and hold hands with kisses sprinkled like stars blinking in the night. I knew this wouldn’t last, how could it? This was my exes ex and yet again, someone who didn’t live in America. But as we walked passed window display we began to floor plan a future for us that we would never live. We picked out sofas and rugs and bathtubs and lamps. He promised me a library and a balcony overlooking the ocean, and walls lined with the worlds gaudiest tapestries. We laughed and we kissed and we allowed ourselves to just get lost together. It felt nice, and although I knew none of it was real, it was nice to pretend that it was. It felt so carefree, and I wonder if that’s what love should feel like. If love should feel like kids playing grown up and house.

I asked if he had a special someone back home, and of course, there was someone he had a crush on. His name is Sam, but the way he described him his name might as well have been Aidon part 2. Shaun and Sam had been talking for a few months and Sam wasn’t progressing their relationship. He refused to define it and would rather have kept Shaun in limbo. I know I didn’t know Shaun, but I knew he deserved better than that. Aidon put us through hell, so it made no sense to me that he would allow someone else to make him hide his feelings.

As we got closer to sunrise it was time for the magic to end. We had to wake up and come back to reality and leave behind this romantic fantasy we were playing, but these are the moments that make life feel amazing. Because we were just strangers, but our hearts, they were already friends.

I knew after tonight I wanted to see him again, but were my intentions romantic or friendly? I couldn’t figure it out. Because of course I thought he was attractive, but we also had such a unique story I just wanted to be friends and get to know him more. But despite what I was feeling what was he feeling? Did he think this was as magical and serendipitous as I did or was he a realist and to him this was all just one unmagical coincidence?

Is it fate, or just a coincidence? Part 1

Ever since I started my new job, I don’t get to go out on weekends anymore. There isn’t anything wrong with that, but when your life becomes a routine of work and sleep it’s nice to get a chance to let loose and just dance. And there is no better place I like to dance than Dance Yourself Clean at The Satellite in Silverlake.

When my best friend Kayla and I rolled up in our Uber we were annoyed to see a line out the door. When we first started coming this felt like “our” spot. It was never crowded, the music was wacky, and the people who came were free-spirited. The vibe and music haven’t changed, but the drones of people who now come can be a bit overwhelming, and when I’m forced to wait in line, very annoying.

As we waited patiently, a large group of people cut us off right when we got to the front of the building. Kayla started bitching, but I noticed a cute guy amongst the group and suddenly wasn’t angry that his party knew the bouncer and beat us inside.

About an hour later, as Kayla and I bounced around like idiots high on life and my first night off, I noticed the group from earlier dancing across the dance floor. I kept staring at the one I thought was cute and suddenly something clicked and I knew I recognized him from somewhere.

“Kayla!”

I began excitedly and breathlessly screaming at her over the music.

“I think that’s Aidon’s ex!”

For those who don’t know, Aidon is the boy I flew to Australia for. The one who cheated and ripped my heart out without any sense of regret or remorse. The one I was about to move for and change my entire life. The man who I thought was my soulmate.

So seeing his ex-boyfriend, the man he dated before me, was exciting. I needed to know if he thought Aidon was as terrible as I did. I wanted to find another survivor, and I needed to hear his story.

Immediately I had to come up with a plan. I wanted to confirm it was his ex, and the way I could do that without assuming anything was to find out if he had an accent. So being clever, I approached him and said,

“Hey, I like your shirt where’d you get it?”

He turned to me, a bit shocked, and replied,

“Oh, I got it back home in Sydney.”

The second he said Sydney I immediately knew I was right about who he was. This was Shaun, Aidon’s ex, and for some reason, in this small bar in all of Los Angeles, the universe brought two exes together.

 

 

Installments

Theres one thing my ex still has that keeps me tied to him, and it’s taken months for me to even get a part of it back.

I was all ready to move to Australia. My heart had moved there months before I was scheduled to arrive, but I had everything in order. I was in the process of getting my visa, I had my belongings all set, and the plane ticket purchased. I bought the ticket using his card so we could get travel points that we would both use to fly back to CA when it came time for me to visit my family. It was all too good to be true, but I was naive and in love and would have done anything for him. I really did believe he was my one.

After the break up, I cancelled the flight I had to move there and was patiently waiting for the airline to refund his credit card so I could get my money back. In the months it took for the airline to finally process it, Aidon had already been on multiple trips with his new boyfriend using up every single one of my travel points. He also created an instagram couples page with the new boy where they post all their travel, kissing, and mushy photos. It felt like a huge slap in the face, and the rage and sadness it brought was overwhelming. But remembering my worth, the value of his character, and how ugly the new boyfriend is, made me feel so much better. I didn’t lose a single thing, and looking at their photos now just makes me laugh. It’s kind of funny watching someone live out their life with the person they told you you had nothing to worry about. It is validating to your intuition, and the irony is just comical. But I think this mentality came with time. If someone would have shown this to me early on in my grieving process I would have been a mess. Now, after the initial shock, I feel nothing. Sometimes the nightmares aren’t as scary when you finally wake up.

I haven’t spoken to Aidon since he told me he wanted to be with Danny, and I’ve held strong to that. Are there moments I felt myself wanting to break? Of course, but the love I now have for myself trumps all, and no boy will ever again come between me and myself again. So when I awoke one day with an email from the airline saying my refund had finally been processed, I immediately asked my best friend if she would reach out to Aidon and ask for him to please send me my money.

He ignored her first text, either intentionally or because he wanted me to break my vow of silence and ask personally, but I wasn’t going to give in. After a week of him still not sending over my money, I had her text him again. This was going to be the last effort I was going to put into it. I know what you’re thinking, “You are just going to let him keep your money and use that shit to travel with the boy he left you for?!” And the answer is yes. If I was willing to lose that money in the first place, what difference does it make now. Do I need it? Fuck yes. I need to pay rent and bills, but it’s not worth my pride and all the love and effort I put into mending myself. Talking to him just gives him power. It allows him to think I will put up with mistreatment and subpar relationships. Talking to him used to make me feel weak, and I won’t risk that again.

A week after her second text he finally responded to her and sent over a PORTION of my money. $74.56 to be exact, and a little note. The note said, “Hey Kev hope you are well. You will receive more installments”

So many things flooded my mind in an instant and it went something like this:

Installments? What the fuck?

Don’t call me Kev I am not your friend. My name is Kevin.

$74 that is the most random amount ever. Where the fuck is the rest of it? 

Does the number mean something? Is it code? Is it romanic?

I was ultimately confused. This was the one moment he had to finally contact me and say something and all he said was that. I don’t know why I expected more from him, I honestly should have just been shocked I received a note, but still it irked me. Also why installments? He was refunded a full amount. They’re not sending the refund in small increments so why was he sending mine? It’s almost like he is intentionally dragging it out and I don’t know why. Wouldn’t he just want to send it all over and forever be done with me? I mean if he’s so happy with his new boyfriend like the the instagram page suggests, why is he still bothering with me? What game is he playing at? I know he has money, or did he blow it all on these vacations with Danny and now he needs my money for something?

My friends told me I should bitch him out and ask for the rest of it. But I am curious as to why he is doing what he’s doing and I almost want to see how it plays out. Like how many installments, is it weekly, or will it soon just all come at once? Apparently him and Danny will be in LA in April, and I wonder if the money will be the excuse he might use to try and meet with me. But again why does he? Why would he even care? He’s still playing a game, but for the first time I actually know I’m playing, and that makes somewhat of a difference.

Right?

 

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.

 

 

Valentine’s Day Magic

This is my 26th year without a Valentine. I’m not trying to say that to be sad or dramatic or gather heaps of sympathy. It’s just a simple fact about me. In a weird way I’m kind of proud of it because when I finally do have a Valentine it will have totally been worth the wait.

But it’s not that I haven’t had boyfriends, it just seems I never have one when the holiday rolls around. Looking back, all my break ups tend to fizzle out during the end of the year, so when the new year begins it’s like both me and my love life get a fresh start.

And this year I was fully prepared to be my own Valentine.

Last year for Valentine’s day I was invited to this exclusive Hollywood gay singles mixer party thrown by a guy who runs a super popular entertainment news outlet. He had found me on instagram and invited me to his party. I ran into a few people I knew and made some new connections. The liquor was free and the dessert spread was out of this world. It was a gay ol time.

This year I wasn’t sure what I was going to do, and as I sat in horrible LA traffic, I had the idea to host a dinner with my friends and just watch romantic movies while we all forget our lack of romance on this Hallmark holiday. But then suddenly I remembered the party from last year, and had the ballsy idea to just text the guy and see if he was hosting another one since I hadn’t heard anything. Within seconds of sending him a text, he replied with an image of the party invitation.

It was happening, and I just scored myself another invitation.

Me, My best friend Jonathan, and my old roommate James arrived to the party looking our best. I wore a tank top with a donut on it and the Ed Sheeran lyric, “I’m in love with the shape of you” thinking it would have been a clever conversation starter.

1) No one commented on it which irked me because where was the sense of humor!?

2) I was the only guy at the party who wore a fucking tank top.

My friends and I also seemed to be the only ones who didn’t mind eating the food spread. Everyone in LA, especially the gays, are so carb and sugar conscious. I get it, I want a hot body too, but food is life and God’s gift to all of mankind.

Here’s a fun fact about me and parties: you can and will always find me near the food. I practically just go to parties for the free food and drinks. Mainly the food.

As my friends and I stuffed our faces on chocolate covered pretzels, glitter donuts and brownies, and heart shaped pizza, we began to survey the room to find the cutest boys. It was a room full of your typical LA hotties. You had your instagram models, influencers, actors, the coolest people you will ever meet (me and my friends), and just a random assortment of people in the entertainment industry. It was the perfect place to network, and a perfect place to find someone. Even if that someone is just for the night.

At first my friends and I were stuck to one another like glue, but as the party progressed and the alcohol started pumping through our bodies, we each found our own little corners of the room to mingle with strangers.

I told everyone I was a poet, because I am so exhausted from saying I’m an actor due to it being just extremely cliche in this town. Being a poet sparked interested, and that’s what I wanted. I was still a performer, but this type of performance made me different.

I was riding a high during the entire party. Earlier in the day I released a slam poem on youtube to my ex and his new boyfriend (click here) and I was receiving so much positive feedback throughout the day that I used it to manifest and project myself into an even better night. I was determined to meet at least one person I was insanely attracted to and get a number.

There was one guy at the party everyone seemed to be drawn to. He was about 6’4 and his name was Jose. All night men approached him to talk but he didn’t seem too interested in anyone. Was he secretly straight and just here to ride the free food and drink train and just get showered with compliments?

I eventually made my way to him, and struck up a conversation. He was there with his cousin and was invited via instagram by the host. I guess the only way into this damn party was instagram. As the night progressed he slowly opened up about slowly coming to terms with being gay and how he was a student up north who just came down for the party.

But small talk aside, I knew I wanted to kiss him.

Either it was the vodka speaking or me still riding my high from my revenge poem,  I told him what I wanted. He looked me dead in the eyes and said, “You want me to kiss you?” and within a second pulled me in causing me to stand on my tip toes as he lip locked me into a tight embrace.

Everything around me stopped. It was like the music cut at the party and everyone was staring, and as we pulled away and I glanced around the room, I could see the other guys whispering and pointing at us. I guess I made the impression my tank top lacked to do with it’s clever pun.

As we stood there, me mostly shocked that I just kissed the hottest guy in the room,  I could feel my lips tingling. The kiss was rough, passionate, and he bit my lip just enough to cause my insides to squirm with joy. I had a taste, and after that moment I wanted a bite of the whole thing.

I was clever, and I told him the kiss was decent and not the best. I was lying through my teeth, but I wanted him to kiss me one more time. And without missing a beat he pulled me back in, and this time it was a completely different kiss.

This one was romantic, soft, slow, and it felt like an I love you without words. It was probably single handedly the best kiss of my entire life.

He pulled away and asked if that was better, and without thinking anything could have topped that first kiss, I just nodded and said yes. He told me I was beautiful, and in a room full of beautiful men, I felt like a 100/10 because I was the one he kissed. It’s not that I personally don’t think I’m attractive, because I do, but like any other human I have my doubts from time to time. Who doesn’t get insecure every so often? But I truly believed I would kiss him that night and I did, so listen up readers, if you want something you can have it. Just be confident and fucking go for it.

We said our goodbyes as the party died down and he told me if I was ever up north to hit him up. I wasn’t looking for anything with him. I was just content with that kiss and if that’s all we could ever be that was okay. Because something about that kiss was magic, and I enjoyed it for what it was; a beautiful moment. And I sometimes think these are what life is truly about. Those moments that leave you breathless, and perfectly content despite how brief they are. It’s these moments that don’t leave room for a heartbreak, and that is exactly what I need right now.

 

 

 

To Move or Not To Move…

Today is the day I was meant to move to Australia.

I actually forgot what day I had planned, but somehow with my luck, the airline company sent me a text letting me know my itinerary was ready. You might be asking why was it was unlucky my phone did an amazing job at keeping me updated? Well, because I cancelled that flight 2 months ago. It had NO right reminding me that my love life is shit and my big life change was no longer going to happen.

It kind of felt like a slap in the face. A little way for the world to keep reminding me of my ex and how much I still miss him. To be honest, he has the most blog posts than any other guy I’ve dated. I should have written him off by now. His chapter should be done. But still, he lingers in my mind every damn day from the moment I wake up right until I  fall back asleep. He’s like herpes. He flares up, goes away, and then comes back with a vengeance. I don’t actually have herpes, but it seemed like a great metaphor for what he is. He’s my own personal herpes.

It’s weird because we haven’t spoken in 2 months and I still feel connected to him. I want to hear his voice again. I want to remember the tingle in my lips when he would kiss me. I want to feel the electricity that would shoot through my body when his fingers brushed my skin. I know, I know, I know. He’s horrible. He crushed my heart and I need to let go and move on because he’s trash. But for one brief moment he was my trash, and I loved that trash dearly.

In a weird twist of fate, I’ve still yet to receive my refund for that flight. I booked it through a third party site, to save money of course because I’m a poor boy, and they have yet to process it. The kicker is that it was paid for on my exes credit card and I had sent him money via paypal for it back when we booked it. This is my last and only tie to my ex and I wonder if the universe is making me hold on because it wants to give me an excuse to talk to him again. But listen up universe if you’re reading this, I AM NOT GOING TO TALK TO HIM AGAIN EVEN THOUGH I REALLY FUCKING WANT TO.

I don’t even know what I would say, plus he doesn’t really deserve ever hearing from me again. He chose someone else. He left me to fix myself in my brokenness, and in a weird way, I’m thankful for that. He said he would always be there if I wanted to talk to him, but I don’t need him to fix me. He CAN’T fix me. I have to fix myself and that’s what I am working on. It’s painful, and the more I work on loving myself, the more I understand why people settle, why people go for easy, and why people end up with others who don’t force or challenge them to grow. It’s easy to remain the same.

I asked myself what would have taken more strength, staying and loving him despite it all or walking away and using that time to love myself. And it takes way more strength to put yourself first than it would to stay.

Loving him was easy for me. It’s what I had come to know for the majority of last year, but not once did I put any of that love towards myself. Towards my own goals and dreams. He became my dream, and how sad is it that I myself was not a part of that?

I’m struggling to figure out what it is I really want in life. Daily I now ask myself, “What does Kevin want? What is Kevin truly passionate about?” And although it’s a slow process, I’m learning and I’m growing. Each day I’m getting closer and closer to my dreams, even if maybe right now I don’t know what exactly they are.

So I may no longer be moving to Australia, but I am still moving towards something, and that’s all that matters right now.

 

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.

Marriage Equality

 

Last week Australia legalized gay marriage, and although I am super happy for my fellow brother and sisters to get married, the news came very bittersweet to me.

When I was dating my Australian guy, I was advocating to every Australian I encountered in LA to make sure they were voting for it to pass. I was so invested because I had it all worked up in my mind that he and I would one day tie the knot. Gay marriage is legal for me here in the states, but I wanted our future marriage recognized in his country as well.

When I was with him in Australia, I was by his side as we watched them announce the people’s vote for legalization. It wasn’t a guarantee that it would pass legally, but it was a huge step in the right direction. I like to look at it as the spark that started the fire, and a fire wouldn’t exist without a spark. It is, essentially, the most crucial part.

As we sat in his caravan watching them read the results, I felt so elated I was there by his side. I wanted to kiss him, but I didn’t want to be too forward, and once they released the yes he leaned over and gave me exactly what my heart was begging for.

But for some reason, he seemed distraught.

He told me he felt guilty we weren’t in Sydney to celebrate with everyone, but the thing was, the only person I felt I wanted to celebrate with was right there next to me. Us, in the cabin, was the only celebration I wanted. I asked if he was happy I was there with him, which might have been a foolish question, yet he flashed me his smile and said, “of course.” But if anyone has been following my journey with him, you know that a part of him was wishing he was with the other boy too. This moment should have been a vibrant red flag that he wasn’t choosing me if he was too upset about missing the “party” of the city.

But in order to bring him back, I told him that the people’s vote is awesome yet it’s not the end result, so he shouldn’t feel bad for not being with “everyone.”  I tried to justify us being together and away camping by saying the main result will come from the government, and when that does, then we celebrate big.

It seemed to do the trick, but the pain of having to diminish my historical moment with him lingered. I made something that was so important to me mean nothing just to satisfy his desire to have wanted to be elsewhere. I made myself small to make him big.

By the time the government legalized it officially, him and I were no longer talking. I never got to celebrate with him, I never got to give him that “we can marry one day” kiss. Instead, he celebrated this moment with the guy he chose over me. The “important” moment belongs to someone else now, and my moment was just a step when this dude got the finish line.

But something interesting happened.

Since I had cut off all contact from him and blocked him, he took the effort to reach out to my roommate to tell her to tell me that marriage passed since he no longer had any means of contacting me.

1. Why did that make you think of me?
2. Why would you tell me this when I know you have a boyfriend? Am I supposed to be congratulating you on the ability to marry him?
3. Why is this the thing you felt you HAD to tell me? Do you not think I have the internet?

Him telling me, actually, offended me. It brought back the reality that he is with someone else. Maybe it wasn’t his intention, but it felt like he was rubbing that fact in my face. Or was he trying to give me a sense of hope. Did he want me to think that I could still be the one he chooses one day? Or was he waiting for me to give him a big CONGRATULATIONS I hope you’re happy with your new boo.

Whatever his intention, I didn’t and I haven’t, broken my vow to abstain from him in my life. It hurts, and almost everyday I still find myself curled up in a ball of tears listening to music. But everyday I pick myself up, remind myself of my own worth, and focus on falling in love with who I am.

So congratulations to all of Australia, but fuck off to my own personal Australian.

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?