One Gay at a Time

I have never been big on celebrating my birthday. I much more enjoy casual gatherings. In years past, I have notified friends of my own plans to spend my birthday and invited them to accompany me.

My 30^th was no different. I told everyone that I would be heading to Central Park for a picnic to enjoy the beautiful weather, encouraging them to join me.

From the onset, CK was not happy that one of my ex’s and one of my best friends who also happens to be gay made the guest list.

Smiles, a slightly older man I “dated” for a mere three months, reached out to grab coffee a few months earlier. This was very out of the blue. I found it far-fetched that this meeting would be of a romantic nature. I agreed to meet him, but rather than stirring the pot, until I knew the topic of the meeting, I chose not to tell CK.

It turned out that Smiles wanted my help in making a proposal for a new initiative he was bringing to the city of New York. I was excited by the project and agreed to work with him, but it was caveated with the condition that CK was ok with it. When I got home that night, I ran the idea by CK. Begrudgingly, after much conversation on the topic, he agreed I could work with Smiles. I reassured him that even when Smiles and I were dating, we only had sex three times, let alone that happening now.

When I was making the guest list for my birthday gathering, it only felt natural that Smiles and one of my best (and one of very few gay) friends, Boston be a part of it. The night before the picnic, CK and I got into somewhat of an argument about it. He made an underhanded comment regarding the matter I didn’t appreciate but tried to ignore rather than dignify with a response.

The morning of the picnic, CK told me he invited a friend from work. I responded, “Sure. The more the merrier!” The irony of all this is that I learned the his coworker is gay the minute my ass touched the blanket in Sheep’s Meadow, and not a minute before. I’d heard his name time and time again. He told me how they started going to Cross Fit together. They were getting lunch together. But, he never mentioned the fact that he was gay. That detail seemed to slip his mind, but wouldn’t soon leave mine.

When we arrived at the park, it was a beautiful day, and friends were coming from near and far. I was in such good spirits and thrilled to spend the afternoon with my closest friends with such great weather.

I have never been very good at introductions. It is one of my biggest social faux pas. I try to be better about it, but historically, I fail. This day was no different. Many people were arriving at the same time and everyone wanted to chat with me. I failed to introduce CK to a few friends as they arrived. I was in conversation, and he was as well. But, I should have done a much better job introducing. I think it stung a little more when I failed to introduce him to both Smiles and Boston. He’d heard lots about them but never met them in person.

As the afternoon progressed, the wine flowed. None more so than for CK. He actually began to flirt very heavily with Boston. Let me remind you, that Boston is ONLY a friend and nothing more. We are each other’s sanity check. That said, I think CK felt he was going to teach me a lesson. I noticed the flirting, the comments, the fact that he was laying his head in the small of Boston’s back while Boston awkwardly appeased… But, I chose to ignore all of this and have a good time.

What I couldn’t ignore was the scene that followed shortly after. I am NOT big on PDA. I do not like making out in front of people. Those are meant to be private exchanges, not exhibitions. CK made it clear that he had something to prove. He mounted my lap and began shoving his tongue down my throat. The more I resisted, the harder he pushed. I noticed the awkwardness on the countenance of my friends’ faces. I finally had to literally shove him off and say, “Enough!”

At this point, CK was sufficiently drunk, and this of course did not thrill him. Things did calm down. I wasn’t going to let CK ruin what was turning out to be the best birthday I’d ever had. Or was I.

I did my best to deal with the situation that was CK, but there was only so much I could do. When CK asked if he could go to his coworker’s apartment to smoke, I was so tired of him, my immediate reply was, “Sure!”

I didn’t trust CK one bit with this coworker now that I knew a little more about him and seen them interact, but I needed him gone! He was making everyone uncomfortable, including myself.

Of course I wasn’t 100% sober, but I think it was in that moment that I had a serious moment of clarity. Before we left the apartment, CK asked if he could bring some pot to the lawn. I requested he not. I could see the disappointment and confusion on his face, but we’d fought about this very topic for so many months. I wasn’t giving in on this one. This was my birthday, and I didn’t want to risk anyone getting a ticket or arrested. We were already breaking the law with wine in solo cups. We didn’t need to do anything to draw anymore more attention to ourselves.

It was in this simple request that I learned CK’s true nature. He was always going to look out for numero uno above all else. It didn’t matter that the gathering was for his boyfriend’s birthday. He wanted to smoke, so that’s what he was going to do.

While CK was off with his head in a cloud of smoke, it was as if someone swept away all the clouds in that singular moment. We’d been through so much, and I’d always kept hope that we’d be together forever. But, in that moment, I realized we would not be. It was the straw (or joint) that broke the camel’s back.

After we got home, I spent a lot of time thinking. It wasn’t an easy decision. A lot went into it, and I’ll get into the turmoil of my decision much more in-depth in another post on another day…

So now that you know the end, let me go back to bring you up to speed. In the past my blog was very chronological. Now, however, it will be topical. Mainly because it’s been a while and I don’t remember nearly as many of the details when I was writing consistently. I hope you can follow along!

Merriam-Webster defines trust as: Assure reliance on the character, ability, strength, or truth of someone or something — one in which confidence is placed — dependence on something future or contingent (hope).

The irony of me starting with the definition is that I don’t believe trust can ever be defined or codified. Trust is relative. It’s an fragile, unspoken contract between two individuals.

Everyone approaches trust in a different way. Some give it all, and then slowly tighten the reins. Some start with no trust until it is earned. Neither approach is wrong, as every situation and individual experiences trust in different ways.

From the beginning, I never fully trusted CK. After all, our first interaction was over Grindr. We started chatting one morning, and that same evening after messaging him on my way home, he propositioned me with sex. Of course he didn’t realize it was me in that instance, but all the more reason for my sensors to be heightened.

I’m a very monogamous individual. Cleary, if you’ve read any of my posts you know that when I’m in not in a relationship I have my fun with multiple men. But as soon as I start dating someone, I flip the monogamous switch.

CK and I were dating a few weeks before I conveyed to him my desire to move into monogamy. I didn’t trust that he was only with me, and I somewhat forced him to make a choice. Verbally, he chose me, but I quickly learned that his words were just that. Words. His actions were speaking louder than words. Because of my lack of trust in CK, I was looking at his phone every once in a while. I know how wrong this is, and I’m not proud of it. But, I also don’t regret it.

One month after we met, I met CK’s mother. I took this to mean something. I thought it was a BIG step. Sure, it was fast, but she lived in Miami, so I went with it. Who knew the next time the opportunity would arise? Apparently, CK didn’t see this as quite the milestone I did. In looking through his texts, I learned he was not yet being monogamous. I didn’t end things then and there and accepted this reality because I did somewhat force monogamy upon him before he was ready. But, I did learn that CK was lying to me. He was quickly losing my trust.

Throughout the entire two years we dated, small things ate away at my trust in him. He lied and betrayed my trust on a consistent basis. I would explain to him, “I notice everything. You’re probably not going to get away with it, so it’s best just to be honest with me.” That didn’t seem to matter. He would lie about the most insignificant things. So I always wondered, “If he’s lying about these insignificant things, what else is he lying about?”

There were times I would “test” him to see if he’d tell the truth. I already knew the answer before I asked the question. Inevitably, he would still lie straight to my face. Even when I would give him a second chance to be honest, the lies kept coming until I proved to him I knew he wasn’t being truthful.

This relationship fully illustrated to me how trust is paramount in every relationship. Without it, a divide is inevitable. I don’t think he ever fully trusted me either; otherwise I feel he would have let himself be more vulnerable and open with me. Trust is a two-way street. It’s a mutual contract. It thrives on balance.

When I decided to finally end things, trust was the straw that broke the camel’s back. I celebrated my 30^th birthday with a Central Park picnic and all my closest friends. Even after an explanation, he pitched a fit over me inviting Smiles and Boston. For starters, I’d never been intimate with Boston other than a Miami beach make out. And, Smiles and I certainly didn’t have the strongest track record for intimacy when we were dating for those three months. He had nothing to worry about on either accounts. However, at the gathering, he got drunk and made a scene. Furthermore, he and his new best friend from work, who also happens to be gay, disappeared for about an hour when he asked if they could go to his place to smoke.

Now that exercised my trust muscle. But, all that’s a story for another day…

Moving in with a significant other certainly comes with its set of challenges. The key to overcoming these challenges is compromise. That being said, when you have two very strong personalities coming together, compromise is no easy task.

CK and I moved into our apartment the weekend of hurricane Sandy. When we learned of the impending storm, I insisted we stay in Hoboken because it’s attached to the mainland. Manhattan is an island, and I feared being stranded. At least in Hoboken we could get out to my parents’ house or a friend’s place further inland. Furthermore, the majority of contents for our new apartment resided in Hoboken.

Later, I would learn in a sharp twist of irony, CK’s apartment never lost power, Internet, TV, etc., and his neighborhood didn’t flood. And don’t think CK didn’t throw it in my face that he wanted to stay at his place on the 52^nd floor.

When the water finally subsided, we needed to begin moving into our new home. It was literally just around the corner from where I was living, but that didn’t matter as we were moving boxes via hand truck past piles of sewage and gasoline soaked trash.

In the middle of moving, three of my friends showed up out of nowhere to help. I was fried from the stress the storm and having to move, so when I saw them all walk through my door, I was moved to tears. I realized then how awesome my friends are. It meant so much to me that they would think to come help unsolicited after having no electricity or running water themselves. I never forgot what they did for me that day, and when I was the first one to get power back, I invited them over to shower, watch TV, surf the Internet, etc. We were so disconnected from the outside world. We had no idea what was actually going on.

After moving as much as possible without the use of a truck, we only left with furniture. My friends drove us to U-Haul to pick up a truck and grab a hot breakfast at McDonald’s on the way. Let me tell you. McDonald’s never tasted so good!

CK and I transported all my furniture from one apartment to the other without the aid of an elevator. When we were finished, the sun was beginning to set, but we needed to head into the city to collect all CK’s belongings. Luckily, we’d packed as much as possible well before the storm hit, so there wasn’t much of that left to do. But, we still didn’t finish until about 1:00 am.

The time finally came to actually begin living in the our home together, and that meant decisions needed to be made. We fought about everything. And when I say everything, I mean everything.

Most of the items in the apartment were mine. I take a lot of pride in my home and invest heavily in the comforts of it. I think CK seriously resented that. He had very little to contribute, and much of it did not fit the space or match in style. There were many objects that were not necessary, but because he had them, he felt the need to find a home for it. Many of these objects, as well as my own, began to develop magic powers, as they would move around on a daily basis “of their own volition.”

One night after work, as we were hanging pictures, we were literally fighting and screaming at each other over inches. I wish I were exaggerating.

The atmosphere in our new home quickly grew toxic. Because of all the stress, our sex lives were nonexistent. There were a few nights we fought so bad, the second bedroom became an asset. Yes. We had a second bedroom. I learned a great lesson from an old roommate of mine. Get a second bedroom so you each have your space. And, if things don’t work out, you don’t BOTH have to move. I’m pretty sure I owe him a few rounds of beers for that little tidbit of advice.

I knew the fighting wouldn’t last forever. I felt we could get back to normal once we were settled and everything was set up, but that wouldn’t happen over night.

I take a majority of the responsibility for the fighting and the lack of inroads made. I am not the best at compromising, and there were a lot of instances where I should have given in or backed down, but I didn’t. Looking back, I actually believe this was when I began to develop and acute ability to manipulate situations to ensure my interests were met above his. Perhaps it’s the Taurus in me (I don’t actually believe this). I am rather stubborn. This living experience has taught me to be far more self-aware of my stubborness moving forward so I don’t make the same mistake.

I knew we just needed to get over the hump. CK wasn’t so optimistic. It was this toxic environment CK attributed as the root of his philandering. “I wasn’t sure what was gonna happen with us. We were fighting about everything,” he remarked.

I should have learned then and there he didn’t have what it took to stick out a monogamous relationship. Literally, the writing (and a few extra nail holes) was on the wall…

Two years ago I said goodbye to you, the readers of this blog to start an adventure with the man you know as Superman or CK. It seemed there was nothing we couldn’t conquer. We were ready to take on the world.

In order to respect his privacy, I agreed to stop writing this blog. I needed to prioritize my relationship over this community because he was incredibly important to me. Many of my readers still reach out to me and request that I do a follow-up piece to give everyone an update. After nearly two years, I’m here to give you what you want. Please be patient as I have far less time to write than I used to…

To start, I’ll have to begin at the end. After just over two years of dating, CK and I parted ways. A lot happened between my last post and the end of our adventure, so let me catch you up on what you’ve missed…

After dating for six months, CK and I moved in together against my friends’ advice and maybe my own better judgment. He had a terrible living situation in New York City, and I was tired of living with my roommates. I was also tired of having to commute to see each other. Moving in would make life so much simpler on top of saving a boat load of money for our future. Little did we know that Hurricane Sandy would also be joining us in our move.

After surviving a natural disaster without killing each other, we barely survived moving in together. We fought EVERY night about things literally as insignificant as inches when hanging pictures on the wall. We were not in a good place, but we eventually got through it.

What I never expected was that CK would take that as an opportunity to explore other options. I’m not exactly sure what it was, but I really began to question my trust in CK. He never fully had it, but alarms were going off in my head.

One night when he was in the shower, I searched through the text messages in his phone. What I found broke my heart and made me feel like my stomach turned inside out. Obviously not my finest moment, as I invaded his privacy, but I can’t say I regret it after finding messages and pictures he was exchanging with another man. I wasn’t sure what to do with the information I learned at the time, so I did nothing.

The following night, he was meeting an old friend in the city after work. I had other plans, so I told him to go without me. He came home rather drunk late that night, and after telling me about his dinner, he tried to have sex with me. I felt sick knowing what I knew. I questioned if this dinner ever even happened. Did he use this as an excuse to see this other guy?

I could only imagine the other guy all over him, and I was so disgusted. I turned him down. He hopped in the shower, and I made the choice to look at his texts again to see if my suspicions were right that things progressed further with this man. I found exactly what I didn’t want to find. All the exchanges led to my conclusion they had sex that night in some way shape or form.

I was crushed. When I started dating CK, I made one request — “Please don’t cheat on me.” I told him about my baggage regarding cheating, and I wasn’t sure I could deal with it again. He betrayed me in the worst way possible. I would never be able to trust him again.

I cried, and my head was spinning. I composed myself, and when he came back out of the shower, I began to ask general questions to see if he would come clean. Question after question, he lied, until I was fed up. I told him we were due for a round of testing. I knew that would send him into a panic, wondering if he was caught. He casually agreed, but I could see the panic in his eyes.

I felt trapped. We had only been living together for two weeks. I wanted out, but I didn’t know how I could end things. I felt embarrassed and crushed and a flurry of emotions I can’t begin to describe. We moved in together way too soon. I didn’t know how I could face my friends and tell them they were all right. My hope and pride got in the way of better judgment.

The next morning, I checked his phone once again. I figured at this point, I’d already crossed that line — No turning back now. I read the message he sent the man he’d been cheating on me with: “You’re clean right? My boyfriend wants us to get tested now.” This message painted to perfect picture in my mind of what transpired between them. I was livid. Not only was he betraying my trust, but he was also gambling with my life.

That night after work, I called him out on the fact that he was cheating on me. In his mind, this came out of left field and there was no way I could know the truth. I gave him every opportunity to come clean, but he never did. He insisted he did NOT cheat on me.

I knew he was lying. I had proof. I told him I knew what was going on. When he asked how I came to this conclusion, I admitted to going through his phone. He turned things around on me, but I wasn’t going to stand for that. I admitted what I did was a breach of trust and apologized, but I wasn’t going to let him make this be about me. He admitted to being inappropriate with this man, but insisted he didn’t cheat on me.

Beyond the betrayal, what hurt even more was that he was willing to risk my life just to get his jollies. He tried to have unprotected sex with me the same night he was having unprotected sex with this stranger. I explained this to him through tears and pain, but it never had the impact I’d hoped it would have.

An entire week went by without me speaking a single word to him. Eventually, he apologized for straying, but I knew I could never trust him again, specifically since he could never admit that he did indeed cheat on me. It would take a year and a half before he finally did not deny cheating on me when accused of it, let alone admitting to it himself.

For years, I told no one about this. I held on to this and tried to bury it down deep. Deep where it would fester and grow until I couldn’t take it anymore.

But this… This is just the beginning…

Curious what’s been going on? Been missing your One Gay At A Time fix? I’m here to give you what you’ve all been asking for. An update is releasing soon!

After almost two years, I have some major news to share with all of you, my devoted readers and any new ones who have stumbled upon my blog over its years of collecting dust.