Fearlessly, I...: Gay guys are so fucking frustrating -
Maybe this is inherently just a “wrong” idea, but it freaks me out when I see gay men everywhere all over the place single and in open relationships. Like, on grindr, or on Facebook, and there are all these men, and their faces are beautiful and their bodies are flawless, and yet still they can’t…
So my first post back is taking far too long to write (too slow, too long, etc.), so here’s a little anecdote about last night:
I recently moved out of the city back home. I was visiting last night, and at some point when I wasn’t sure if I felt like spending the night or not, I put up a CL post looking for anyone who wanted to give me a massage.
Well, Jonathan responded among a plethora of horny elderly men who cannot properly read. Straight to the point, gave me his number, etc. Sold. So I hopped in my car and drove up to his place… on Bainbridge… in the Bronx. Oof.
There are many reasons why one should not go to Kingsbridge at 4 AM. I found parking (which was somehow 50x harder than in Manhattan), and proceeded to his front door.
I should have turned around when I smelled cat pee, but he opened the door. In front of me stood a dumpy 22-year old man with the face of a 14 year old.
He smelled like belly button.
He led me upstairs - to the communal bathroom for his entire building - where he locked us in and gestured for me to sit down on the toilet seat. He turned on the shower (“to cover the noise”).
He then proceeded to rub cocoa butter into my back.
After five minutes of literally being speechless in shock, I feigned a giant yawn and said I had a long drive ahead (truth).
Moral of the story: ….Well, make your own.
But really. Cocoa butter.
I guess I have a lot to fill everyone in on.
Nobody’s been reading it lately, anyways.
Last night, a friend of mine, also named Matt (but different from the one in my last post) visited me from Boston and spent the night with me.
When I was 18, I lost my virginity to Matt - on my parents’ bed. It was a senior summer party, my parents were gone for the week. I never had feelings for him, but always thought he was cute. We wound up drunk, in bed together, and he started talking about how hard he was. I decided to feel for myself. I sucked him off and fucked him - he got on top of me and started riding my dick. Before long, I came while inside him. It was pretty short, it wasn’t very romantic, and we never really talked about it after.
Matt actually spent New Year’s Eve with me this year - I was pretty convinced something would happen, especially since when we got in bed we were watching porn together, but nothing ended up happening. This time, not so much.
He’s a pretty sexual person by nature. He’s my age, half-black, maybe 5’9”, cute, fit, and very outspoken (this last one is a new development). My roommate was in bed with her beau when Matt and I decided it was bedtime. We started it by talking - for quite a while, and about a lot of things. He and his “boyfriend” “broke up” hours before - they’re in an open relationship (and have known eachother for about a month), and his boyfriend called drunk to tell Matt he was pursuing someone else earlier in the evening. He was kind of upset about it, but still a little indifferent in some regards. I think maybe more embarrassed and helpless than anything else.
All the while, his leg would rest against mine. Occasionally, he’d push it. We were talking about sex a lot. He bit my arm at some point. He scratched my back for a second. “Want to give me a massage?” “I mean, if you want one.” I lay on my stomach, and he straddled my ass to give me a massage. He was teasing me. “What are you thinking about” “Nothing.” “Hmm…” I felt his hard dick on the small of my back. “What are you thinking about?” I took a minute as he pushed his thumbs into my shoulder. “I’m thinking about what’s going on down by my ass.” After a while, he got off. He asked me for his massage. I got on top of him and worked my magic hands. Unlike him, I wasn’t afraid to go for the ass. Let’s face it - whether it’s by some creepy old masseuse or your boyfriend, getting your ass rubbed down is one of the more pleasurable aspects of a massage.
After I finished, I laid back down next to him. We were wrestling a bit. I could tell he wanted it, and then he confirmed it. “I’m writing a book about how I hate being the guy to make the first move. Do you think you’d read it?”
I gave it a minute. His body was facing away from me. I moved my hips to his ass and grinded my dick, hard under my shorts, against his ass. He pushed back. I repeated. I started rubbing my hand across his stomach, going a little lower each time. Eventually, the back of my hand rubbed against his dick. It’s pretty long, girthy, and quite hard at this point. Yum. Eventually, I slowly ran my pointer finger up and down the length of it. He moaned.
I grabbed his dick through his shorts and slowly jerked up and down. His groans got louder, and I slipped my hand underneath his boxers while kissing his neck and gently pulling at his hair. He liked that a lot and moaned - probably too loud. I have thin walls, and Matt has little awareness of how loud he can be.
I pulled his hair so that he’d crane his neck, bringing his lips closer to mine. We kissed deeply as I continued rubbing his seriously hard cock. After some time, I got up on my knees and licked the head of his dick, him moaning all the while. I took his head inside my mouth, and slowly worked my way down his shaft. When my mouth sufficiently lubed him up, I tried to deep throat him, but couldn’t quite get it all down my throat. He grabbed my pillow and shoved it into his mouth so he didn’t outright scream. I continued to suck and jerk him off for ten minutes or so until he said he was going to cum. He told me to stop, he didn’t want to cum.
I was confused. I didn’t really get why. I teased him, and went back to his cock, gently licking in circles around the head, but he again told me to stop. It seemed like it pained him to say that, but I think he was feeling guilty.
Later when we were laying down, talking again, he sort of brought it up. He said he felt trashy, cumming in my mouth. Not that it was a trashy thing to do, but that it was embarrassing for me. I guess he felt it was immasculating to swallow another guy’s essence. I asked him why he thought I would judge him, and he tried to verbally work his way out of that.
It was a pretty bizarre night. He didn’t get me off - besides grinding his ass into my pelvis a thousand time, whether from in front of me, while mounting me, or asking me to fuck him. I told him I wouldn’t - that I didn’t want to top him, and he’s too girthy for me to bottom. Both of which are true - he is, and I didn’t. When he fell asleep, I went into the bathroom and jerked myself off. We didn’t talk about it in the morning.
Another one of those awkward nights, I guess. I don’t know, maybe I’m weird - I don’t think the friends-with-benefits thing is so weird. It’s not like I felt embarrassed in the morning knowing that we’d fooled around the night before, and it’s not like I was thinking about how disgusting we are or aren’t for being friends fucking around. I don’t mind it - clearly it’s not something he’s so comfortable with.
I also felt - almost guilty, but not really guilty. I had such a good time with the other Matt the night before, and was even telling this Matt about him in the evening before any of this happened. Today after I bid this Matt adieu, I sent the other one a text asking when he was free. When he replied, I suggested that maybe we should go on a legitimate date at some point, and he thought that was a good idea. Then Brian texted me and asked me to come over. I told him I was busy. He said he was out getting dog food. …I had to ask. I live in NYC, I fucking miss having a dog, okay? He’s trying to bribe me to go over to see his dog. I think he made some sugar daddy implications at some point. I have too much of a headache for this.
I don’t think I’ll be able to see Matt this week - I have a pretty hectic schedule for the next several days and then am leaving the city for a school function over the weekend. Maybe late next week, which is a bummer. I was thinking about him a lot today. I’m not kind of obsessively thinking over him, but just keep wondering if I have a crush on him or not. I guess it’s too early to tell.
May have mentioned Matt before, but this is pretty much what happened:
We went out two or three times last spring, all pretty casually, and then stopped seeing eachother and texted sort of infrequently since. I wasn’t living in NYC, but was commuting in from out-of-state (a good two hours away), and it just wasn’t working out. I moved back in in June, and every once in a while, one of us would send a message to the other, but neither of us were ever free at the same time, until last night.
A friend from school wanted me to go with her to this gay bar uptown. I told her yes, thinking she’d forget about it, but come last night, I got the text asking what time we should meet there. I sighed, and realized that Matt lives about ten blocks away from the bar, so I sent him a text, asking him what he’s up to. “Today is my first night off in forever…” Well, I invited him and he agreed to come along.
The bar was pretty lame. Honestly, it was more a dive club than either club or bar, and of course we show up on Whitney’s death night, so everyone’s in mourning and there’s a horrible drag queen performing every Whitney classic.
By the end of the night, I was feeling pretty sick - I drank like four Coronas, which is four more beers than I’m used to drinking. Matt bought me a couple drinks, which was sweet, but we left before I could even fill my tab haha. But we were there for a solid three or fours hours.
Anyways, we left, and I was walking with Matt toward his place. I figured I’d walk him home and then grab the subway back to my place, since it was already 3 AM, I was tired, and felt like crap. He was cold, so he hailed a cab and ran a block. I caught up with him, we got on the cab, and took it legitimately ten blocks to his apartment. I paid for the cab, and walked with him to his door. “Alright, so I guess this is goodnight” He looked confused. “Oh” I asked him if I could get a kiss. He said of course, and then we kissed. One, two, three, pause. Four, five, six. We looked in eachother’s eyes and smiled. “You’re so cute”.
"Are you sure you don’t want to come up?" I wasn’t sure. Matt is sweet. I really do like him, and have since the first time we went out. The first two times, we never had that kiss moment. I sort of wanted to just get my kiss and take it slow from there.
"We don’t have to like, do anything."
…He convinced me.
We went upstairs, he gave me a glass of water and some ibuprofen. See, there’s a keeper. His roommate came home with his boyfriend and some other guy after a while. We all talked for a bit and when Matt and I were in his room and the other guys were going to sleep, Matt closed the door, turned on Friends, and we got in bed. It was that slow progression towards the bed/couch-kiss… we’ve all been there. First, the two of you are lying on your backs. Then, your heads start cocking towards eachother. Eventually, one gets up the nerve to sort of turn in so his body is facing yours. He lifts his body up to change the episode, and I extend my arm. When he lays back down, I pull him in so his head is lying on my chest. Five minutes or so of rubbing his arm with the thumb of my hand that’s holding it, my cheek resting on the top of his head. Eventually, he pulls his head off my chest to kiss me. :)
So one kiss leads to many, and we’re both on the bed facing eachother kissing and touching - a little bit. Mostly just upper body. Shirts come off. I feel him trying to gently pull me on top of him, so I go for it. Straddling one of his legs, we make out. I feel he’s hard, so as we’re kissing, I grind my crotch on his. Oh, I wanted it so bad. We flip-flopped who was on top and bottom for half an hour, and then eventually came back to cuddling, me on my back, his head on my chest. After a while, I kissed his forehead and told him I should leave. I got dressed, he put on a shirt, grabbed my coat, and we went to his door. We said goodbye and kissed… one, two, three. I went outside and grabbed a cab home.
I like him more than I think I did before. I’m not crazy about him, but I really like him. He’s really cute. Like an inch or two taller than me, a lean toned body, black/white mix, but adopted and raised in the south, so a total sweetheart. He’s an old soul, and so am I. Billy (see back a post or two) works with him - I’m not sure if they know eachother or are friends, I’m going to guess they probably don’t know that I know both of them. Oops. Matt and I have some mutual friends since we went to the same school, so it’s nice to be interested in someone my age who’s sort of going through the same things in life (as opposed to the older guys, who I always find myself with).
I guess we’ll see where this one goes…
Short, AND unsweet. Bitter, even.
Bored, horny, Craigslist morning. Put out the bait, seemingly normal guy bites. Sends a picture, handsome guy in his late thirties, why not.
He knocks on my door - nearly two hours late. …I’m pretty sure this guy is sixty.
Really uncomfortable time in bed. He walks right in, grabs my ass, and kisses me. We move to my bedroom, and he wants me to call him Daddy, be dominated, etc. He tried to fuck me, but could not. Old man and all. I tried to fuck him, he couldn’t take it. He dribbled out an ounce of cum, I lay on my back and jerked myself off. I threw him a towel, went in the bathroom to wash up, and walked him to the door.
Lesson? Ask for multiple pictures.
I’m still sort of in the air on this one. I think.
I met Billy on one of the bear sites, and we hit it off. He’s 25, skinny but muscle-y, probably 5’8” or 5’9”. Domincan, but light for a Dominican. Cute-ish, but not especially attractive.
We met for the first time on some afternoon a few weeks back that we both had off. We went to a Thai restaurant, he payed. Hug goodbye.
The second time we went out, it was to Dave & Busters - yeah, I’m not kidding. It was sort of fun, though. I hinted that I was expecting a big teddy bear or something at the end of the night, but when we left, he was like “Let’s not cash our tickets in yet, we can just put it on the little card and come back later.” …Losing points.
After, we went to some Colombian (or Ecuadorian?) restaurant and got more drinks and a little food. It was three blocks away, so he walked me to my apartment.
I (sort of jokingly) told him that I am an angel and it takes a while for me to do anything sexual with a guy. Which was hard for him, because he is… very sexual. Like, sitting and talking, or watching a movie… very sexual. This was sort of an immediate red flag, I learned when we first started talking. I mean… as you, reader, can probably tell, I have sex with different guys with some frequency, but honestly.. I just like to cuddle and kiss. That’s all I really want out of life. Somebody cute and sweet to lay in my arms, watch movies with.. all that old person crap. When Billy tells me he likes to have sex (with a boyfriend) every day… woof. Too much.
Anyways, on the way to my place, I tell him he should come up if he wants to watch a movie - “but JUST a movie” I say, nearly winking. Well, of course he’s down with that.
We get upstairs. He doesn’t want to watch a movie in the living room, of course. “What if your roommate wakes up?” ..It’s like 4 AM by this point. So we go to my bedroom and turn Carrie on. I kid you not. It’s been a really bizarre night. I lay on the bed, he lay next to me. I get up to put my glasses on my desk, and I come back and his arm is magically across the pillow, right under my neck. “Smooth” He pulled me in so my head was resting on his shoulder, my hand across his chest.
I think it took all of five minutes for him to jump on me. No, I’m saying this as if he’s a predator. I mean, I was sort of looking for it - if I wasn’t, I wouldn’t have invited him up. He was an interesting kisser. I’m not sure if I liked it or not. But we were clothes-less pretty fast. We were making out with a lot of touching, grinding, groping, all that jazz. It went on for a long time. To be honest, I can’t fully remember all the details. This post is about two weeks late (sorry), and I was quite inebriated. I just remember that it was going on for too long - I was tired, and my balls were bluer than the night sky. Literally, in pain. I needed to shoot. So he got off, I got off. He went to the bathroom to clean up while I cleaned myself up on the bed.
When he got back, I expected him to get back in bed with me, but he started putting his clothes on.
It was like 7 in the morning. The sun was out. I was tired. I wanted to sleep.
"Are you leaving?"
"Yeah, I should probably go home."
So he left. We’ve been texting infrequently since. I feel like it was just not the sort of thing I’m looking for. It’s nice to be with someone close to my age who likes to go out, can feasibly fit in with my friends, etc., but.. it just didn’t feel right.
He texted me yesterday, I didn’t reply.
I’ve put off writing about Luiz, because I’m not really sure where this one is going or where it will end up. But here it goes…
If memory serves me well, Luiz sent me a message on Manhunt.. or maybe he looked at my profile, I saw him in my recent views, and I sent him a message. Either way, we ended up chatting for a while on Manhunt IM, and he seemed like a cool guy. He pseudo-asked me out - to drinks, I think? He seemed kind of unsure of what his objective was, and I had no idea either. We ended up exchanging numbers, and he texted me goodnight
Luiz: Sleep tight! Luiz.
Me: You too, handsome. Send me more pics of that cute face of yours when you have time :-p
Luiz: You will see in person. Ao vivo e a cores. No worries lindo
Me: :-D Night :)
You read that correctly, “Nightz.” Whatever, I - like Planet Fitness - am the judgement-free zone ;-)
We had made a standing date (I think when talking on Manhunt, but this is jumping back to October 19, so I can’t remember everything perfectly) to grab a drink somewhere at some point that Friday, which would be two nights later.
I’m going to take a second to pull out of this story and point out that guys who I date-date (like, actually go out with and not just sleep with) arrive in PACKS, and then disappear. It has always been like this, and I have no idea why. At this point, Luiz was the fifth man who was courting me, so try not to laugh when I say I completely forgot about him when I agreed to go out with another man that Friday night.
Problem is, I forgot about that until I was showering around 6:00 to head down to meet the other guy (his name was Joel) to see a movie and get dinner, and Luiz called and followed up with a text asking what time I would be free to meet up. Oof. I told him I had to go to Connecticut for an emergency, and that I’d be back the next day - “I’m so sorry, try not to hate me!” and all. To be honest, I wasn’t terribly upset with myself. I wasn’t TOO into Luiz, and he had one kind of shadow-y face picture I’d seen up to this point, and I was more into the guy I was seeing the movie with that night anyways. But to my surprise, he replied that it was no problem, and told me to let him know when I’m back in the city.
Another side note - I went out with Joel, and it was severely disappointing. Boo.
So the next day, Saturday, I texted him in the afternoon saying I was home, and asked him if he still wanted to grab a drink or something. He said yes, but he wasn’t sure where to take me. “I’m not too picky. Preferably somewhere not too far?…If you’d rather, you can just come over and we can open a bottle of wine and watch a movie or something?” Honestly, I still wasn’t feeling it too much, and half-expected him to say no since he lives in Queens and works across town. But still, he told me he’d take a shower and call me when he was ready to head over.
Around 10:30, he rang my buzzer and I let him up. When he first got to the door, we shook hands and he kind of looked me over without changing his face - which made me kind of nervous. But he of course came in, and we sat down with a bottle of cabarnet and talked… for a pretty long time. The getting-to-know-you stuff, but also a lot about the directions of our lives, he talked a lot about Rio, where he’s from.
I guess I should give you the rundown on him.. He’s 31 years old, and was born in / grew up in Rio de Janeiro. When he was 17, he came to the US and lived with his mother, who I guess divorced from his father when he was rather young, and he didn’t know her well at all. He went out on his own, and in his late 20s went back to Brazil to “find himself”. He spent most of his time in one of the poor areas of the city, trying to help revitalize the artistic community or something, but he really got a lot out of the experience, and came back to NYC two years later, maybe about a year ago? Now, he works as a sort of floor assistant in an upscale salon. He’s medium height and is thin with a tiny belly. He has really big eyes and short, curly brown hair. He was a lot cuter in person than the Manhunt photo led me to believe. He has a sort of dent in his brow that looks kind of off-putting, and when he’s not smiling, his scowl is kind of frightening… but his normal or happy face are attractive.
Anywho. He kept saying he wanted to show me around Rio, so I grabbed my laptop and we went on Google Maps - we were sitting side-by-side on my couch, the computer on his lap, and we sat there for about two hours, him literally driving me around Rio inch-by-inch on the street view feature. I was mildly interested, but was more taken back by how incredibly passionate he was about the city! It was admirable, if not bizarre. To him, Rio de Janeiro was like his mother, and just looking into his eyes or seeing him smile when he talked about every minute detail just impressed me a lot.
Eventually, he closed the computer and kind of moved his body in to face me. I’m not exactly sure how it happened, but we started touching… finger to hand, hand to sleeve.. just slowly kind of exploring small areas of the other’s hand and arm. I think I was the first to say “You’re handsome.” His reply was kind of off-putting, in the way that only a foreigner would think wouldn’t be offensive: “You are, too, in your own way.” I’ll spare you the unromantic details, but someone went in for a kiss, and we ended up making out. Nothing too exciting, but I was so engaged by his mouth. I was obsessed with the way he kissed, because it complemented my technique perfectly. Maybe it’s just me, and I’m trying to make up for the making-out time of my childhood that seemed to jump from truth-or-dare-kissing to blowjobs-in-the-backseat, but when I find a good kisser, I really just want to sit/stand/lay/whatever there and kiss this person for hours and hours. But of course, we got a little frisky. It was cute, though. At some point, I ended up against one arm of the wall, kind of holding him, cuddling him while sitting up.
Before this all started happening, we put something from Netflix on the TV. It was something stupid, I think South Park (don’t ask me why). When we started cuddling, I realized the episode ended a long time ago, and played another one. We sat there, kind of embracing for a while and watched the new episode, and things started to pick up again.
We decided to take it to the bedroom, so we continued the night on my bed. It was really just invigorating… I’ve never had such an intensely passionate connection with somebody, and I felt like I figured out all his erogenous zones very quickly, and he mine. The whole time, though, it never got TOO sexual. Hours in bed, just kissing, locking legs, some ass grabbing, lots of touching. Hell, our underwear stayed on, though I felt his dick throbbing against my leg or against my own erection constantly. But the connection just leaves me speechless, thinking back on it. I don’t know when, if ever, I’ll have that sort of sexual chemistry with another person, but hot damn, I wish it would come sooner. But maybe I’m getting too far ahead of myself..
Around 4:30, we settled into a comfortable cuddle, and maintained that position for a while - resting, if not falling in and out of sleep. But then within the hour, we ended up both awake, and I was massaging him, first sideways and then with him lying on his stomach. When he finished, he straddled me and returned the favor. I told him at some point earlier in the night that I didn’t want to have sex, but we ended up getting a little frisky with this second wind, and after we went back at making out for a while, I kissed my way down his chest and stomach to his dick. I sucked him off for a while, and then he brought me back up to kiss more. After a while, he started sucking my dick, and that only lasted for so long before I felt like I was going to blow it, so he took his mouth off of me. We spent some more time going at it, and when he told me he was close, I told him to cum on me - he asked me if I was sure, that he shoots a lot, and I said yeah, cum on my face.
…Okay, but really, he shoots a LOT. I thought that I was a heavy cummer. This man… insanity. He told me later that he calls his dick some word in portuguese which means volcano or something. Aptly named.
So after he sprayed my face, sheets, pillows, headboard, and probably wall with his load, I shot mine - again, skipping chest and mostly going for face, pillows, and headboard. We both shot in my eye - is there some lucky thing associated with that, perhaps? It stung. I suggested we take a shower, and Luiz agreed, so we headed to the bathroom - which is tiny. I turned the water on and we waited outside the shower for it to warm up. We were naked, right against eachother, fluorescent lights beaming, and for the first time this ever happened, I wasn’t self-conscious or uncomfortable. I can’t imagine just being buck-naked in front of a man in bright lights and not feeling at least a LITTLE ‘ehh’ about the whole thing, but when we got into the shower, it was just fun. Like, he played with my dick and I shampoo’ed him. We laughed, we took turns in front of the water.. it was just cute. I felt really comfortable, and had such a good time.
We dried off, and went back to the bed - I removed the pillowcases, and we cuddled and fell asleep, probably around 6:30 or 7, sun being seen from the top of my curtains. My alarm was set for 10:30 since I had to be somewhere (because I had a brunch date with another boy - but he didn’t need to know this) at noon, so neither of us got much sleep at all. In the morning, we woke up, stayed in bed for a while cuddling, playing with eachother’s hair, and talking, and we eventually got up, got dressed, and went to the door. We walked downstairs and to the corner of the block together, and when we parted ways, he gave me his hand to shake - something I found incredibly bizarre and uncomfortable, and we parted.
He texted me later in the afternoon to ask how my brunch with my “friend” went, and pretty much texted or called me at least a few times a day every day for the next six days.
On Monday, he asked me what I was doing - I was in class, and told him I’d be out around 8. He asked if I could meet him in Midtown East around 9. I said sure, so after class, I went home and showered quick then grabbed a cab across town. We walked around Midtown/the UES for a while, then went into a Starbucks. He was so uncomfortable and out of his element, and when he asked what I was getting, he looked so confused when I said grande soy caramel macchiato. He ordered it for me and a peppermint mocha or something for himself, and paid for both. We went back outside, and walked around for about an hour. It was cute, he was like my little tour guide - I let him know that I don’t like going to the east side ever if I can avoid it, so he was trying to enlighten me to the highlights of his half of Manhattan (again he lives in Queens, but works in Midtown East).
We ended up settling down at some Brazilian restaurant that he worked at years ago when he was still new to New York. It was a little chilly, but we sat outside, and he ordered two drinks.. I can’t remember what it was called, but it was absolutely delicious. Sort of like a mojito… but not horrible. We got two more when we heard last call (it was pretty late by this point), and I took the check when it came out to be a gentleman. I also felt like he was uncomfortable with being ten years older than me, so I figured asserting some sort of financial dominance would be wise at this point. I was really kind of crushing on him at this point, two days after we went our separate ways after an amazingly passionate night of sex-less love-making. After we left the restaurant, we walked down to the corner of 3rd (or whatever its stupid name is) and 57th, and we sort of fell into a conversation. He was the one asking me everything all day, so I sent some questions to him.
"Can I ask you something personal?" "Of course." "Why are you in the closet to everyone?"
In one word: woof. This idea of being in the closet, to me, is so foreign. I came out when I was twelve or thirteen. I can’t imagine going through high school, nevermind my twenties, being in the closet. Maybe it’s just because I’ve had a somewhat preppy New England childhood, where gays are not only everywhere but silently considered the highest breed of man, but this drove me crazy. Long story short, I guess he sees it as more of a private thing. I guess in Brazil, family is a lot different than it is here. He didn’t feel comfortable coming out to his father, and he knows that his mother, his only family / support in the United States, would seemingly disown him were he to tell her he’s gay, so he keeps his mouth shut.
I tried asking as many questions as I could about it without being invasive or offensive, but it just seemed like something he wasn’t really willing to budge on. He asked why I wanted to know, and if I had feelings for him. I told him that yeah, I liked him a lot, and I really am hoping this will go somewhere. He nodded, and I asked him the same. He gave me a sort of roundabout answer, saying that it’s not his intention to be in a relationship right now. I asked him, is it a possibility? And he looked at me, and said yes, and that he didn’t expect to leave that morning feeling the way he did. That I took him by surprise, and have so much more emotional depth than other people my age, and that despite living in New York, I’m not some jaded homo (these are my words, I don’t know exactly how he’d word that) like (seemingly, at times) every other gay man in this gigantic city.
So shortly after that, the crosstown bus came, and I hopped on and took it home.
Before I even got off the bus, I already had a text from him. Nothing heavy. But like I said earlier, the text continued for a few more days. On Thursday, I said to him:
Me: So, what do you say we go on a legitimate date at some point this weekend?
Me: One that doesn’t start and end in my apartment making out to South Park :-p
Luiz: Ok. I will let u plan it. Friday night good?
Me: Haha ok! Yes, Friday night works for me. :)
The next day, he asked what time we were meeting. I told him the name of a French restaurant in Chelsea, and called in a reservation for 9:00. He was late by about 20 minutes, but to be fair to him, he did let me know ahead of time that he was running late, and I went and left to be there at 9:00 anyways.
We had dinner. It was a really nice evening, actually. We talked a lot, again about everything under the Sun. There is one thing that’s bothered me about him every time when we had conversations (the first night at my apartment, the second night getting drinks, and now this night) - he is a hypocritically negative person. He’s negative and understand that entirely, and yet he is all about inner-peace and understanding your own life through observation and experience. This is something I’m totally into, and I really do sit in bed at night and think to myself about everything I did that day, every emotion I may have gone through, what went well, and how to make the next day even better. I try with all my might to be a happy, positive person, and it really does work to manipulate my mind to making me a legitimately happy person 90% of the time. This is why I don’t understand how he’s so negative about things. He hates his work/job. He smokes pot so he can relax (I hate that every gay man in NYC smokes pot - am I the only one who doesn’t?). He just is generally unhappy living in the US. He’s not particularly close with his family or anyone in his life. Part of me is saying that’s why he was trying to keep me so close, calling me every day and “imparting his wisdom” upon me - because he was longing for someone to feel some sort of emotion connection to, something he is clearly lacking in his life as it is.
Anywho, whenever he went into that kind of talk, I tried to just ignore it and nod, or think of ways to change the conversation. It was a minor inconvenience, although one that seemed pretty dominant in one’s life (hating it, that is).
When the bill came, I immediately grabbed it. $120. Again - woof. Luiz protested, but I told him that it was MY date, and that I had to pay for it - he could pay for the next one. I guess he bought into that, but he felt uncomfortable about it all.
When we left the restaurant, he hailed a cab, and we got in together - he gave the man my address, and we headed toward midtown. We were holding hands, and I was rubbing the area between his thumb and index finger with my thumb. It felt right. When we got to my cross-street, Luiz kissed me and we said goodbye.
Cinderella moment? Ok, maybe not. But still - this is all legitimate. Things are going well. I’m courting and being courted. He’s interested in me. I have feelings for him.
The next night, I sent him a text asking how his day was - ok, he hates the weather. Yup. I asked him if he wanted to come over the next day around 12:30 for lunch. I was excited, because now I’d get to show off my stellar cooking skills. …No answer. The next morning, I texted him - again no answer. 1 PM, no answer. I got a text from him at night saying his phone died, he’d spent the day with his mother.
I felt kind of weird at this point, but we’d had a good legit date night together, and he was not shy about calling and texting every day for the past week, so I didn’t feel too alarmed when he didn’t answer my texts over the next few days. On Nov 1, I sent him a text saying “Haven’t heard from you today, just wanted to say hi. Hope you had a nice Halloween. :-)”
"Dave, my dear friend. Dont want you to get upset but you gotta give me some space to breath…… I am notlooking for a relationship anytime soon. So u gotta chill a little"
My heart sank when I got that.
Wow, looking at these texts now to quote them is depressing me. I think it’s further sort of exacerbated because he’s not… let’s say he’s not an English speaker, so his texting skills are kind of sub-par, as you may have noted. He speaks English fluently and has lived here for over a decade, but by reading his texts, you couldn’t tell. He can’t express himself very well over texts (putting aside the grammatical and spelling errors), so it’s sort of twice as painful reading through them now.
The gist is, he really pushed that he was not looking for a relationship, and felt like I was rushing him to be my boyfriend. I knew he wasn’t looking for a hardcore relationship, and tried to make it clear to him that Monday night when we were walking around the East Side that that wasn’t something I was looking to get into if he wasn’t. But I was interested in dating him, and he said he was open to the possibility of a relationship. So when I got this, it just stung. And I didn’t want to call him, and he clearly didn’t want to meet up with me to talk this out, so I was left with the discouraging text conversation that ensued. “So what now” “Nothing…… Wait for the week to pass”
So a few days later, I sent a “Hey, what’s up?” Small talk ensued. Toward the end, I said “I just wanted to check in. Let me know whenever you have some free time and are around.” “Sure… Srry about wanting some space… My work is consuming a lot of my mind. I need time to meditate thou…….. Its been just too crazy at work buddy.”
Four days later, I say “Hey there, stranger” He responds: “Hey! :-) :-) :-) :-) :-)” Awkward conversation where he’s probably high ensued.
Two days later, I say “Think you can make some time for me next weekend? “I think so” Nope, nothing happens.
By this point, I was pretty pissed. It had been nearly a month that had gone by, and I had no idea what the hell was happening. I told myself, if he doesn’t respond by the 21st, I’m going to tell him I need either a yellow light or to end this all. So I did…
"Hey. I’m sorry if you think I’m being too clingy or something, but I haven’t seen you and you haven’t called me or really texted me for more than three weeks. I know you wanted some time to think about things, but this isn’t fair to me anymore. Can you please just tell me what’s going on? I don’t want you to feel pressured, but I feel ridiculous waiting for you to tell me you’re ready to move forward when it seems like that’s not going to happen. I don’t understand and this all makes me feel real shitty."
And it’s true. I felt like shit for a while. Especially because I was so happy for that first week. With all the vague bullshit than ensued after our date in Chelsea, I just was up all night hating myself because I had no idea what I did to make Luiz so evasive and.. vague. I was ready to explode. So when he sent this text, although I was pissed off and sad, I was also sort of relieved.
"I am sorry. I dont think it is going to workout…. I ment to tell you but I got stuck about the idea of a second date….. I am reallysorry…. sorry if I gave you the impression that I was going to move forward. Pls understand. U r a great guy… Its just not what I am aimung for ok. Try not to hate me. Life is hard…"
I asked him why, for a reason. And he told me to not make a big deal about this. “I am not ur boyfriend”. I really want to blame this on language barrier. And texting. It’s so fucking hard trying to convey emotions or have legitimate conversations via text. I’ll pat myself on the back occasionally for the sometimes hilariously dry and witty conversations I can have with somebody, but never about something as touchy and sensitive as this. We texted back and forth, a few messages each - I was pretty much just asking for a why, and he was kind of being a dick to me. He said he wanted to make things up and talk in person that night - he asked me if I was free after 8:30 or 9:00, but if I didn’t want to, it’s ok. “I just feel like I need to clarify my self with you. That”s part of being adult you know…..” Yeah fuck you, I’m perfectly educated on how to be an adult, thank you very much.
To be honest, I didn’t want to go sit at a restaurant and talk that through, so I told him I was busy - and that was true, I did have plans. “Maybe after the weekend,” I said.
"Ok. But it is not a date ok."
"Hi my god u dont get it….."
"We aren’t dating."
I was mostly blown away by the audacity of that text - it is not a date. NO SHIT. Again, though, I just have to brush this off as a language barrier thing. No human being can be so stupid to pursue such a stupid conversation.
So we stopped talking, and starting that next day, I tuned him out of my life. In my opinion, there are two ways to get over somebody - to hate him or to just try and move on. One is more childish, but easier; the other is more mature, but difficult. I tried going with the latter. It worked. After a week, I wasn’t thinking about him too often, and I didn’t harbor any real hateful or angry feelings towards him. Then about two weeks later, he called me.
Noooope. Not picking it up. No voicemail. Damn.
"What up? I’m out." "Out of town?" "No, with a friend." "Wanted to talk to you in person. Thats all:-)" "I’ll be free around 9" "You re a good guy! I feel bad thou…Just wanna sith and talk. Perhaps explain to you how I feel." I guess he decided 9 was too late, so he asked if I could do the next day in the afternoon. I told him it should be ok, but I’d let him know in the afternoon.
The next day, I texted him that I was free, and he called me and asked me to meet him at his work when he got out. I went to the salon, and it was closed down - he was there alone with the receptionist, and she left when I arrived, and he poured us both a mixed drink and we sat in the lobby and kind of chatted. The lobby opens up to a storefront, so after a while, he asked me to go to the back, and we went to where nobody could hear us.
I sat in one of the salon chairs, and kept pushing myself around slowly while he was talking. He explained that he felt bad and really wanted to see me to apologize and explain where he was coming from. At some point when he was “letting me down”, I asked why he was being so mean, and I guess that stuck with him. Here, again, he explained that I’m so different than other guys in NYC, and that he expected me to be a dick to him when he was letting me down, or that I would understand when he said he needed space that he never wanted to see me again, but I’m some angelic ray of light that’s not an asshole.
No dice. Yeah, guys in NYC tend to be total dicks. I’ll give you that. But it’s not like those of us who actually have personalities and are caring individuals are THAT few and far-between. This all is coming off like a huge cop-out.
I had a standing date with one of my best friends to go see Shame that night, so I was hesitant to say yes when he asked if I’d go grab dinner with him - to make up for me paying for the last date. I told him I could go, but didn’t have much time.
I felt bad, because I was being sort of closed-off, and I know Luiz was doing the majority of the talking in the salon, and he was kind of uncomfortable having grown-up talk. The only time I really said anything was when I told him that the reason why I was so bothered by it all was because he just ignored me for so long, and that’s not something that someone should do - and littered with all his mixed signals from that first week together, I had no idea how to mix it all together.
I think he was trying to “subtly” hint that he wanted to be fuck buddies during this. I dismissed it. I don’t blame him, though - we really did have a fantastic sexually charged night together, and I would love to repeat it. But he knows that asking me to be his fuck buddy or friend with benefits would be the most dick thing he could possibly do at that moment, so he spared me.
We went to dinner - and BAM, back to the mixed signals. Sometimes, I honestly just don’t understand men. When we got to the restaurant - which wasn’t like some super classy joint, but was kinda mid-range - he helped me take off my coat and pulled out my chair. At some point in the night, he looked at me for a minute and said “You are so fucking cute.” He paid for the bill at the end, of course. I showed him a picture of me with my hair straightened, and he remarked how unbelievably sexy I am. Things like this. It was all bizarre and uncomfortable. I was so uncomfortable already, I didn’t know how to deal with these newly introduced subdued flirting methods. I just… didn’t understand. And I still don’t.
So since then, he’s tried to be friendly. And perhaps too friendly. That next day, he sent a text asking how the movie was. I… maybe not SO accidentally drunk-texted him a few days later. I sent him a Happy New Year on the first, and then asked him what the name of this Brazilian song we heard once was (so I could learn it for João, I’m horrible). The next day, he asked me if I wanted to catch up that night. I said “Sure, what’s going on?” “Wanna invite me over for some wine?” …Oh. Yeah, no. We’re not playing this game. “My roommate is around!” He asked if I was in school. “No, I’m off this month.” “Wanna come to astoria?” Nope. He called me and we agreed to “put it off”.
I told you - I refuse to play this game. I have been burned, I am not a stupid man.
The other day, he called me again, and asked if I wanted to get together. I told him I was on a train to visit my parents, which was true.
I know that Luiz keeps calling me because he wants to play with me. And I don’t want to. I mean, I do - but I can’t. It’s stupid and masochistic to fuck a guy you’re interested in who has no interest in you unless you can put aside the strings. Past experiences tell me that I can’t, and furthermore, at this point I don’t want him enough where that’s something I’d be willing to do. If I’m ever desperately horny enough to consider calling Luiz and asking him to come over for a quicky, I know there’s a couple dozen numbers in my phone that could do it just as well without me feeling like shit when they walk out the door.
So there, there’s my story of Luiz. Pathetic? Yup. Unrequited? I think so. Learning experience? Maybe.
We’ll see how this ends.