Posts Tagged alcohol
Preparing to get ready for the Scissor Sisters concert was a sh*t show and a half. This was twice now CK and I fought before going to an event. I was beginning to wonder if we would ever be able to go to these kinds of events without it turning into a fight. I had finally grown more comfortable with the crowds at these events, but I was growing uncomfortable with the idea of going with CK to them. Living up to what I thought were CK’s expectations was a lot of pressure to deal with.
CK and Hip were ready, but the tickets were nowhere to be found. After quite some time, Hip managed to find the tickets behind the couch. It seemed like he happened to know where they were in a moment of clarity. At this point, we quickly made our way out of the apartment to see if we could salvage what was left of the concert. Like the flip of a switch, CK began apologizing to me and asked me to come along and be happy. His main concern was getting to the concert, not whether or not we were okay. It was incredibly selfish, and it hurt a lot. We quickly hustled the ten blocks to the venue, but I skulked behind a few paces every turn we made. I was really hurting deep inside. Things weren’t going very well between us the way it was, but this took things to a new level. I wasn’t saying anything. I was in shock about what had transpired. To be honest, I wasn’t quite sure what I was still doing there.
I’m not good at putting on a smile and bearing down. I may have been present physically, but mentally, I was in a whole other world.
When we got to the doors at Terminal 5, a large mass of people were walking out the door. CK cut through the crowds heading in the exit only to find the concert had ended. Everyone was leaving. I stood on the street with my arms crossed because I knew there was no hope. I also wasn’t about to chase CK through a mass of people. When CK finally realized all hope was lost, his anger returned. Hip continued to apologize over and over again, but CK wanted none of it. I wasn’t upset in the slightest because I was in no mood to go to a concert. The three of us managed to find each other, and we all agreed we were starving.
I was pretty wasted, and we stumbled back towards his apartment searching for somewhere to grab food. We didn’t pass anything along the way, and CK mentioned getting take-out delivered. When we got back to his place, I hopped into bed immediately. I was hungry, but more importantly, I was drunk and upset. I wanted to go to bed to escape what was going on around me. I fell asleep in CK’s bed still fully clothed.
I woke the next morning to the sound of Hip knocking on CK’s door. Originally, we planned to go to the cloisters in north Manhattan, but those plans would never come to fruition. For some ungodly reason, Hip was wide awake with lots of energy. I, on the other hand, was incredibly hung over. Everything was too bright, too loud and too real. I just wanted to go back to bed and sleep off my hangover. Hip sat on the foot of the bed talking about the night before and asking a lot of questions. Apparently, he had even more to drink than I did. He kept asking if we actually ever made it to the concert, and this was really the last thing CK wanted to hear. Every time he brought up the previous night, it made CK grow more and more frustrated.
At one point, Hip excused himself to use the restroom. CK and I took the opportunity to chat while he was absent. I was still quite upset, but I wasn’t going to make a scene. This was the perfect opportunity to talk. I brought up everything from the night before and explained how none of it was okay. I point blank asked him what Hip handed him the night before. He responded, “I have no clue what you’re even talking about.” When I pushed the issue, he denied any recollection of it emphatically. After my suspicions and insinuations, he detailed how the only substances he partook in the previous night was alcohol. Based on his reaction and emphatic response, I believed him. I was not okay with how he acted or how he treated my, but I did believe him. I put my worries aside and took his word for it. I had no reason not to believe him. After our previous conversations on the subject, I wondered if maybe I had finally gotten through to him.
I told him if he ever lays a hand on me like that again, we’re done. He didn’t hurt me physically, and I did loved him. But, this was not something I would tolerate. The next time, I was actually walking out the door, and I was never coming back. I made sure he understood how serious I was about this. I wasn’t afraid for my own safety. I was more afraid for both of us. I didn’t know what would happen if things escalated out of control because we both had short tempers. I stressed this point numerous times. Again, he apologized emphatically. I could see his apology was genuine, and I accepted it. He loved me, and I could see it pained him to know how much he hurt me. He apologized for everything and I forgave him for everything. “Forgiven, but not forgotten. We will not go through this again,” I added.
We literally kissed and made up, but things didn’t stop there. He was very sweet in his remorse. Apparently, he was feeling a bit frisky. Warning: The following may be too graphic for some. We started to make out, and when I pointed out Hip just on the other side of the bathroom door, he didn’t stop. As per usual, I woke in the morning raring to go, and CK took advantage of this. We were making out and my hands were exploring his entire body under the comforter. He was straddling me, and he reached down with his hand and sat on top of me. It was incredibly hot, but I was still a little self-conscious about the whole thing.
Just as I predicted, Hip emerged from the bathroom with CK still straddling me. I didn’t know what to do, but we didn’t immediately separate either. We both turned our gazes to meet his with a guilty look upon our faces. He knew exactly what was happening, but he went about his business accordingly. We all laughed at the situation as I slowly removed myself from CK. It was necessary to break the tension in the room.
We continued to lay around for a majority of the morning chatting and relaxing. Before Hip got back into the previous night, CK pleaded, “Can we talk about anything other than last night please?” After some time, we were finally able to motivate ourselves to get out of bed and face the day…
CK and I had a fun afternoon promoting the circuit party we were attending that evening. When we got back to CK’s apartment, CK, Hip and I relaxed listening to music and chatting before getting ready, however we didn’t have all that much time before we needed to go to Governor’s Island for Matinee.
I watched from the sidelines while CK and Hip played dress up. My work in that arena was done. I had to decide what I was wearing the day before when I packed my bag for the weekend. I witnessed CK try on roughly 30 different permutations of outfits before he finally got every detail just the way he wanted. Meanwhile, I was stressing about how I could make my outfit gay enough so I wouldn’t stand out but normal enough to feel comfortable in my own skin. Hip didn’t have much work to do either. Originally, he wasn’t planning to go, so he pretty much had the clothes on his back with a few embellishments from CK.
I wasn’t thrilled with the shirt I originally chose, and the shirt I got from promoting seemed like it would work out well for me. Apparently, CK had the same thought. We were worried we’d look like twins, but Hip assured us it was cute. After carving up his own t-shirt, he insisted on taking a scissor to mine, but I asked him not to. He surmised that he had better judgment than I did, but I stood my ground. I wanted to go to this thing feeling like myself. I wasn’t going to change that just for some event.
Sure, I was trying to fit in, but I wanted to maintain some level of individuality. Of course, since I was already on edge, this started an unnecessary argument. I was shutting down. He was making me feel even more anxious about the night, and that was the last thing I needed. Things got pretty heated until he realized what was going on. I was going to add a few more cuts in my shirt, but I wasn’t going to wear the strands of fabric he turned his into.
We finally settled on attire and were headed to the bar knowing drinks would be expensive at Matinee. I wasn’t thrilled with POSH, the location choice, as Broadway always called it Poor Old Sad Homos. I didn’t want to hang out with a bunch of creepy old ‘mos, but I’d never been so I didn’t really protest. We had a quick round of drinks before venturing to Governor’s island.
We walked across the island of Manhattan until we found the right subway stop to get us downtown to the ferry. My anxiety was getting to me, and on the way to get cash from the ATM, CK and I had a small breakdown. He pulled me aside to make sure we were cool before we got on the ferry while Hip made himself scarce. He managed to reassure me everything was going to be all right, and we were going to have a great time. I kinda needed that to snap me out of it. I was getting into my head once again, causing all kinds of problems. Sometimes a vivid imagination can be a curse. After that, things were better, and CK and I were actually talking to Hip about how we discussed what a marriage between the two of us might be like, such as the wedding party. Hip was thrilled to hear he would be included in this.
After a quick ferry ride, we were there. We made our way through the line and posed for a picture as we entered the party. When I noticed a Grindr Pride sign, I insisted CK and I snap a picture in front of it. We’d been joking about contacting them to do a testimonial like eHarmony commercials.
This was it. I was making my circuit party debut. As we came around the bend, the festivities came into view. It was a sea of shirtless men. I may sound stupid for saying this (and I wasn’t the only one to think this), but when CK told me it was a “water park,” I was expecting a lot more water. I wasn’t expecting water slides or anything, but I wasn’t expecting the entire party to be on sand and dry land.
The first thing we did was head to the bar to get a drink, and boy did I need it. Of course, as we predicted, the drinks were not cheap. I immediately wished I brought more cash. While I knew there were be an abundance of illicit substances, I wasn’t planning to participate. (I’m probably going to come across like a complete goodie-two-shoes here). I was, however, planning to get pretty hammered to loosen me up. I wasn’t going to be closed-minded, and if I felt comfortable partaking, I would. That being said, I’d never done anything other than pot before, and I was already out of my element. I thought one anxiety-causing experience at a time was plenty.
Alcohol wasn’t going to be the only thing to get me through the night. My friend D supplied me with a lozenge from a medical facility in San Francisco after his last trip there. I didn’t quite have any use for it until that night. I thought it would be the perfect thing to mellow me out. He told me all the hang-ups, but the benefits seriously outweighed any of the possible negative effects.
I unwrapped my lozenge and waited for it to kick in. D told me to suck on half, and save the other half for later, especially since it was my first time, but half way through, I wasn’t feeling a thing. I kept sucking on it until there was nothing left.
In the meantime, I was dancing and trying to have a good time with Hip and CK. We met a lot of new people, including one couple that recently wed. I was thrilled to hear that, as they were the first married gay couple I’d met in person, but I’ll circle back to them later.
While CK and I were dancing, a cute young blond boy came up and started dancing with us. It was plain to see he was feeling some sort of high. CK was facing me, and the boy came up and started dancing up on his backside. I wasn’t thrilled with this, and my heart started pounding out of my chest. I tried to be cool and remain calm. I don’t know why I get so worked up about these things, but it’s like a trigger. CK wanted to open my mind and suggested I get in the center. I would later learn, he thought I might enjoy being the center of attention like that, however I explained to him that was the last thing I wanted. It started off innocent enough, but then the guy began thrusting himself against CK’s backside, and I nearly lost it. I wasn’t going to go off on the kid or anything, however, I wanted it to stop. I wanted it to stop NOW! I think CK got the hint from my face and gently shuffled the kid away. Minutes later, the kid came up behind me and started dancing against my backside, but I turned around and politely shook my head no and said, “Sorry.” I could see it in his eyes — This kid was in another world.
It was then I knew I was in for a long night. I wasn’t necessarily worried what CK would do. I was more worried what others would do with him. I had a feeling our definitions of what was acceptable differed. I was petrified of witnessing something he thought was innocent, and I thought unacceptable. Everyone was in an altered state, just as I suspected, and I wasn’t exactly from the “anything goes” camp many of the other attendees were a part of. I needed to find a way to calm down, or I was going to drive myself clinically insane…
That Tuesday, I woke to the sound of my alarm. I was going to go for a run, but the sound of my alarm wasn’t all I heard. It was raining outside. I turned off the alarm and looked out the window to see rain pouring down. I checked my phone to see if CK texted, but he hadn’t. Who knew what happened? I sure didn’t.
I wanted to text him when I got to work, but I decided against it. He knew where I was. He was the one who suggested plans that evening. He would be the one to hit me up and clue me in on those plans.
Finally, around noon I got a text: “Hey sexy.” I didn’t see it until a little later. I responded, “Hey. How was the rest of your night?” Apparently he’d gotten tipsy at the work event he called me from. He went home and passed out in all his clothes including his shoes. When he woke at 4:00am, he properly put himself to bed. The he apologized for not calling me back and asked how my night was. I mentioned my cancelled run, and he expressed interest in going for an early run with me sometime. Tthat would be the only way he’d do it since he’s not a morning person. I told him we’d both just stay in bed because I’d just be tempted to lie there with him.
I then asked him if we were still on for that night. “I’m game. What’s the plan?” he responded. I reminded him he set the plans, and I was waiting for the details. He decided he’d rather stay away from alcohol, and I asked what he wanted to do instead. He was eating his lunch, so he asked if he could get back to me later. 5:00 rolled around, and I still hadn’t heard back from him. I certainly wasn’t feeling very special anymore. That’s when the phone rang. I was heading into a meeting, so I sent him a text. When my meeting ended, I called him but got no answer. At 6:00, I finally got a call back. He was heading home and wanted a quiet night in with me. I wasn’t opposed, but I wasn’t thrilled either. I was beginning to wonder if it was all about sex with him. He needed time to straighten up his apartment, so I made my way over there around 7:00.
When I got to his apartment, I stood in the hall waiting for quite some time before he answered the door. I hadn’t called to tell him I’d arrived. A small part of me was surprising him on purpose. He just happened to be getting out of the shower.
He greeted me with a giant hug and a big kiss. I removed my shoes and got comfortable. He finished toweling off and joined me on the bed. We cuddled a bit until he asked me if everything was alright. I lied and said everything was fine. He pointed out I seemed short in my text messages. Big kudos to him for noticing the subtleties in my mood. We continued to hug until we discussed what we wanted to do for the evening. He mentioned watching the sunset, and I told him that’s exactly where my head was.
I had ulterior motives. When we got to the roof, I would find the appropriate time to bring up my concerns that arose since Sunday. He also asked if I wanted to smoke, and I shook my head yes. “Are you sure everything is cool?” he added. I told him I was short in my texts cause I was actually working all-day and apologized. I didn’t really think I was being all that short. We smoked and finally made our way up to the roof about a half hour later, Coronas in hand.
When we got to the roof, we continued snuggling on the outdoor couch. We talked about the surrounding buildings in an “I’m high” kinda way. The conversation never really had any direction. Then again, he brought up my mood and asked if everything was alright. I didn’t think I was being that obvious with him, but I also wasn’t being myself. That’s for sure. I didn’t know how to let myself be free with him anymore. I started to close myself off to ensure I wouldn’t get hurt. I was shoving distance in there with both fists.
I finally told him how I was feeling. I explained how I thought his sentiments came out of nowhere on Sunday. I told him I thought it was a bit early to have that conversation, but now that it’s been had, a few issues were brought to top of mind. I addressed my feelings regarding him being on Grindr and how that made me feel. I told him I felt as if I wasn’t enough for him. I told him I didn’t need to be on there, and while I wouldn’t dictate to him to not be as well, I just didn’t understand why he felt he needed to still explore it.
I was having a hard time expressing my feelings, but I think I got the point across eventually. I told him because of what he told me, I was afraid of getting hurt. I wasn’t able to be myself and give him the real me if I felt vulnerable to pain. I wanted to be myself with him. I wanted to give him the real me. I needed to feel safer than I did. “Since meeting you, you’ve made me feel incredibly special. Since you told me what you did on Sunday, I no longer felt special,” I told him.
He looked a bit shocked. “The last thing I want to do is make you worried or scare you. What I said to you on Sunday was not calculated. It was just how I felt at the time. You are incredibly special, and that hasn’t changed. You are… an aspirational boyfriend. I’d be insane to do anything to lose you. Baby, I think you’re incredible. Part of me knows how amazing you are and wants to dive in full force, but another part of me wonders if I still want my freedom. I’ve already started thinking of you less as something to schedule in my life and more as just part of my life.”
I wasn’t expecting him to tell me he wouldn’t hook up with other guys and tell me we were exclusive. I think I just needed him to know how I felt and where my head was. I could see in his eyes that he understood what was in front of him. I would still be patient and let him figure it out on his own. I just wasn’t going to find myself in another Smiles relationship. He needed to know that eventually the Grindr would have to go, or I would have to go. He needed to know that I wanted a boyfriend and not a friend with benefits. I needed to hear from him I wasn’t just a hookup cuddle buddy. I needed to know I was different from the other guys he slept with from Grindr.
We kissed and embraced. I felt a lot better. It was really starting to weigh me down. I think I handled it very well to suit my needs. A large part of me wanted to ignore the conversation we had in the Sonic parking lot. The other part of me, my constantly overactive brain, wanted me to get some closure on the topic. I think I found the sweet spot.
Warning: The following may be too graphic for some. After kissing and embracing, he began to get a bit frisky. He started to undo my pants. There was high risk here. We were in plain sight of the doorway leading to downstairs. One neighbor had already come up to the roof once to smoke. He began blowing me, always keeping one ear out for signal of someone approaching. I undid his pants and began pleasuring his endowment with my hand. Finally, paranoia got to him, and he suggested we move to the far corner of the roof, out of sight of the door.
When we got over there, he pulled my pants down to my ankles and did the same with his. He was pleasuring himself while going down on me. He edged me many times, getting quite close to making me finish. I was picturing my seed all over his chest, just as he wanted it. Alas, I wasn’t able to fulfill his wish. I came close many times, but just couldn’t get over the hump. He stood and suggested we move downstairs. We got dressed and made our way downstairs. I was incapacitated and had a hard time descending the stairs. My legs were jello from the full-body orgasm he gave me. I may not have had the release, but I still received all the pleasure. He laughed at my struggle.
As we walked down the stairs, I realized he had a slight exhibitionist streak in him. The stunt on the roof, sex with the blinds always open… I had a bit of this in me, but in smaller quantity. He was expanding my comfort zone.
When we got downstairs, the fooling around continued until we took a break to order Thai food. It was 10:30. Once that was taken care of, we had sex. I had the first chance on top, and then we swapped. It wasn’t long before he finished all over my back. He was out of breath and in a daze from how amazing it was. I knew I was having a blast, but I was thrilled our time in bed was so enjoyable for him.
Like clockwork, the food arrived. We settled into bed and ate while we watched Smash. I convinced him he needed to see the show so I could talk to him about it. He really enjoyed it, so much so we watched two episodes, eventually switching to dessert. I passed out half way through the second episode. When it was over, we turned out all the lights and went to sleep. I was happy to have the weight off my back after telling him my concerns. I felt comfortable with him once again. I fell asleep with an amazing man in my arms and a smile across my face from ear to ear.Follow @onegayatatime
Wednesday night arrived. It was “date night” for San Francisco and I. We were meeting in the Castro to grab a drink and maybe some dinner together. It had been a while since I’d seen him last, and we were due for a catch up.
Since work was paying, and I was too lazy to learn the public transit system in San Francisco, I decided to take a cab. We arrive in The Castro neighborhood, and I witnessed the largest rainbow flag I’d ever seen in my life. The only thing I could compare it to (for the Americans in the room) is the giant American flags that adorn the poles in the parking lots of Perkins across the country. If you read my blog, you know how much I’m not a fan of the rainbow. However, I’m embarrassed to admit, the sheer size and presence of this thing actually made me a little proud.
I got out of the cab and met him on the street as we exchanged a hug and a kiss. We made our way to Badlands just up the street just in time for some happy hour specials. We caught up on the other’s dating life over the past few months. I learned San Francisco is currently casually dating someone. In the back of my mind, I’m very happy to hear this news. I didn’t want things to escalate beyond drinks for us, and this news was reassuring.
As the alcohol flowed, his emotions escalated. He became much more affectionate, and even started to get a bit hot n’ heavy. I just went along with it. I had no emotions attached to these actions. I was fully over San Francisco. I tried changing the subject so he wouldn’t keep putting the moves on me.
He talked about the possibility of moving back to New York, but said it would be very different this time around. He’s a completely different person. Everything he was saying were basically the reasons why I ended things with him. It was as if he’d read the blog. (To my knowledge, he still does not know about the blog).
We started talking about his dream of opening a bar in Hawaii. We talked a great deal about even the smallest details in his dream. I suggested a name for his bar, and he immediately fell in love with it. He even went as far as to register the domain immediately from his BlackBerry. I told him how to do all this with my advertising background and knowledge and my recent experience of purchasing my own domain for this blog.
He then brought up the possibility of checking out a drag show that evening, but then he remembered it wasn’t my thing. Instead, he suggested we grab dinner at one of his favorite restaurants.
The meal was spectacular, and it wasn’t that expensive. I was also introduced to one of his friends who is a server there. As the night went on, San Francisco grew more and more inebriated. He wasn’t’ too much to handle yet, but he was drawing closer. He started growing louder and more indignant.
When the bill arrived, I think he thought I was going to take care of it. I think he thinks I have an unlimited expense account (which isn’t the case at all), when in reality I paid for his meal the last time I was out there because I wanted to thank him for hanging out with me that night. We split the check and made our way for the door.
The whole time, I was trying to send a pretty clear signal I wasn’t interested in hooking up that night. I was failing. He asked if we should go back to my hotel or hit up his apartment. Then he answered his own question when he realized how close to his place we were. Again, I just went with it. I’m not entirely sure why I didn’t just go home. I think I thought I could get him home and then say goodnight.
While we rode in a cab to his apartment, he asked me about the stuffed animals and orchids he sent me for my birthday. I explained that was over nine months ago. I was lucky I kept the orchids alive for six months. As far as the stuffed animals, I told him I gave the mistaken monkey away, but I still had the bear (of much more significance) at my parents’ house.
When we got to his place, I met his roommate for the first time. One had only seen me on Skype and heard lots about me, and the other had never met me. Ironically, the other share the same unique name as me and joined on as a roommate shortly following our breakup. I’m not going to lie; I thought it was a bit weird.
When we finished tormenting the roommates with S.F.’s drunken antics, we went into his room. It appeared I was spending the night. However, it was just going to be that. I was not having sex with him.
Of course the makeout session ensued. I thought to myself, “At least he’s a good kisser.” Then the makeout session morphed into more passionate actions, and I found myself with no clothes on. S.F. put me in a position to begin to penetrate me, but I wasn’t going to make it that easy for him. I kept casually squirming so it wouldn’t be possible. He kept gently trying, but I wasn’t going to give in. There was no way in hell I was going to have sex with him, but I also knew I was dealing with a drunk man. I gently whispered into his ear, “Let’s just spend the night together.”
With that, he rolled over into little spoon position. I curled up with him and went to bed. In the morning, when my alarm went off for me to head back to my hotel to go to work, I found myself with his mouth on my “morning excitement.” I had forgotten how good he is at that. It didn’t quite matter. I wasn’t in the mindset to finish with him, and we know how difficult that can be even when I am in the mindset.
I got dressed, and he remained in bed. I could tell he was disappointed, but I didn’t care. I was not going to revisit old territory.
I didn’t hear from him until much later the next day. He told me how hungover he was in the morning, proving to me how drunk he was. He asked what my plans were for the remainder of my trip, but we didn’t discuss meeting up again while I was there. I was happy to dodge that bullet.
I let things go further than I wanted, but at least I didn’t hurt his feelings too harshly in the meantime. In my mind things wouldn’t quite be the same for us going forward. No longer did I feel the urge to call him just to chat, which is sad. It appears I have collected what pieces of my heart I left in San Francisco…Follow @onegayatatime