Posts Tagged apartment
Surprise Ending
Posted by One Gay at a Time in Gay Dating on January 19, 2012
When I got home from my dinner date with Smiles, I sent him a text asking if I could spend the following night with him at his place. I wasn’t sure if he’d already passed out, but I never got a response. I was hoping he’d answer me before I left for work in the morning so I knew if I should bring clothes for work the next day.
My office party was that Wednesday night at the Greenwich Village Country Club. We weren’t able to bring guests, but I was hoping I could see Smiles following the party. I wasn’t all that into it and was willing to leave early if need be.
Wednesday morning arrived, and I still had no answer. I decided to be on the safe side and bring clothes regardless. Maybe he’d answer me midday. When I didn’t get an answer, I asked the question again in a text.
He responded with an apology. He didn’t realize he didn’t respond the night before. “Yes. You can spend the night.” I explained the party, and he told me he had happy hour plans with his wealthy client friend and his partner.
For me, the office party was not all fun. Every year I get wrangled in to help with a few elements of the night. I performed my duties and then had fun drinking and dancing with my coworkers. It was a really good time — Better than I expected. However, I was more looking forward to seeing Smiles.
I texted him to see what he was up to. If he was still out, I was going to meet up with him. He told me he was wrapping up drinks and heading home shortly. I told him I would be leaving the party shortly as well and would come by.
I said my goodbyes and collected my coat. I wasn’t that far from his apartment, so I decided to walk. While I walked, I called his phone just to make sure he was home. I called about 10 times in a row with no answer. I sent text messages and heard nothing back as well. I wasn’t sure what to do, but I decided to continue on to his place. Finally, just as I was nearing his block, he picked up. His phone was on silent in the other room, but he was home.
He buzzed me in, and I came upstairs. I gave him a big kiss hello. I wasn’t drunk, but I was properly tipsy.
We talked about happy hour and the party while we hopped into bed. I undressed and hopped on “my side” of the bed, and he slid into his side.
Just recently, I made the switch back to briefs periodically. I decided I looked good in them since they showed off my legs — The same legs Smiles loved to compliment. So I knew what I was doing when I laid on my back in just briefs while talking to him. We chatted a bit before he made a big move. My seduction worked.
Warning: The following may be too graphic for some… As I laid on my back in my briefs, he started groping my crotch as he rolled over partially on top of me to make out. This was a bit out of character for Smiles, but I like it. Apparently he liked what he saw and went for it. I could get used to that.
Things got more heated and passionate and the clothes came off. I thought this was going to be the extent of our romp in the sheets, but apparently he was ready to escalate things. He proposed sex. I was a little apprehensive because he was still recovering from surgery. I didn’t want to further injure him. He detailed his limitations; he couldn’t top and he couldn’t put his legs up. I was still worried I may hurt him, but if he was good for it, I was game.
With that, he put a condom on me, and he climbed on top. It didn’t take long before I lost it. I’d been drinking the better portion of the night, and that really wasn’t helping at the moment. “I always lose you in this position,” he said. I found that ironic, because that was the position Broadway and I so often found ourselves in.
“Have you ever done poppers? he asked. I told him I’d never done them myself, but I’d witnessed them used. He told me it increased blood-flow and would produce one of two effects. Either it would make the problem worse or it would solve it. I figured it was worth a shot, so I agreed to partake.
He opened his nightstand drawer and pulled out a small vial. He held it up to my nose as I inhaled. Sadly, it had a negative effect.
“Let’s try one more thing. Stand up. It may help the circulation,” he told me. So I did what I was told. Magically, it worked. He turned, and I pressed my chest against his back. He lubed me up and bent over the bed, and we went at it. Finally, we were having great sex, even if it did get off to a rocky start. Apparently, he also was enjoying it as he finished on the floor. Just as he did, he turned around and said, “I wish I could make you cum.”
And it was over… I was close to finishing, but him pointing that out to me made me lose it immediately. My mind switched over immediately.
He walked to the shower, and I laid in the bed. I wanted to hop in the shower, but that wasn’t physically possible based on his setup. I thought we could have more fun and maybe I would finish. When he came back, I took off his towel and pulled him into the bed. I told him not to say things like that because it was a sure fire way to make sure I didn’t finish with him.
We cuddled for a bit, just laying in each others’ arms. Just as he was about to get up to go brush his teeth, I asked him if I could ask another question. I wanted to ask him where we stood. I wanted to know what I was to him. However, as he walked away, he responded, “No.”
I was a little crushed. I went from being so happy to finally be having great sex to utter disappointment. How was I supposed to be in a relationship with him if I couldn’t express how I was feeling.
He came back, and I was already prepped for bed. I curled up facing the wall ready for sleep. I wanted him to read my body language and realize how much I closed off, but I don’t know if he got the hint.
That night I had a dream about Smiles. I specifically remember him in the dream saying to me, “You know I like you, right?” It was the reassurance I wanted in reality, but this was a figment of my imagination. It was just that – A dream.
For the rest of the night, I didn’t sleep well. I tossed and turned like the inner turmoil I so wanted to release.
Follow @onegayatatimeCleaning Up
Posted by One Gay at a Time in Gay Dating on January 13, 2012
My night had gone pretty smoothly. I had a great time, there was minimal drama and I ended the night with a great guy, Smiles.
I did my best to put all the food away before heading to bed the night before. It was a fairly easy cleanup. However, that left all the dishes to be done and a lot of cleaning around the apartment.
I woke at a decent hour and didn’t even have a hint of hangover, which is surprising considering I drank sangria most of the night. My teammate from Maryland woke shortly after me. She needed to go into the city to catch a bus home, but was going to stick around for breakfast before she left. She asked if she could have some of the leftovers, and I prepared a few things for her.
In the meantime, Smiles emerged from my bed, and we made coffee for ourselves with my Keurig Elite Brewer coffee machine. It’s perfect because we can each pick our flavor of tasty Green Mountain Coffee, and we don’t have to wait for a whole pot to brew. It’s absolutely great! (Yes, I’m plugging them because I absolutely love that thing, and I’m hoping they read this and feel gracious enough to reach out to me… Wishful thinking…)
After she ate, my teammate asked for directions to the bus back into the city to Port Authority and was on her way. Smiles had made his way back to my bedroom and got dressed to head home. I was hoping he’d stick around for a little bit (I wasn’t expecting him to help clean), but I was mistaken. I would have liked to spend a lil more time with him, but he had plans.
I said goodbye to him with a kiss and a hug as I thanked him for everything from the night before.
My other roommate who was stuck in Canada arrived home in the meantime. He asked about the party. He was very disappointed he missed it. He’d been to three of the previous four even though we’d only been roommates six months.
Then, I was left with my mess. I did all the dishes and ran the dishwasher. I put all the wine in the wine fridge. I poured all the leftover sangria down the drain trying not to gag. I put all the liquor no one drank away. And then I swept the floors. They hadn’t been swept since we moved in.
I did all this while my roommates sat on the couch watching TV. My happy mood had soured. I didn’t expect them to help. I made it clear to them it was my party. Therefore it was my mess to clean up. However, after asking for permission, the roommate that was away had no problem scarfing down a plate of the food and leaving it in the sink for me to clean up. And, the other roommate, who attended the party and did nothing to help me prepare didn’t lift a finger. I didn’t resent that they weren’t helping me clean up. I more resented that I worked my ass off to get the apartment in shape, and they didn’t offer one iota of gratitude. Sure, it was out of selfish desires that I worked so hard and fast. But, they both greatly benefited from my efforts.
The cleaning was over surprisingly fast. When I finished, I planted myself on the couch for the remainder of the evening.
Later than evening, I witnessed my roommate come out of her room and heat up a plateful of the leftovers from the night before. I really resented this, purely because she didn’t take the two seconds to ask me if she could have it. I can be generous at times, but she didn’t pay one cent for it and did nothing to prepare it. The least she could do is ask.
So, I did what any mature roommate would do. When she went into her room, I left a passive aggressive post-it on the fridge saying, “If you didn’t lift a finger to purchase this food or make it, then don’t lift a finger to eat it.” I’m not sure why I was in such a p*ssy mood, but it really got under my skin. I think I was just feeling very under-appreciated overall, and I was taking it out on her.
Later she emerged once again from her room. As she passed the fridge, she read the note, made a noise of discontent and returned to her room.
I had the immediate satisfaction of getting under her skin as much as she did mine, but I would certainly have to deal with the ramifications of that later. I returned to watching TV and being in a cranky mood for the rest of the night. I wished I’d spent the day with Smiles. I was in such a good mood from spending time with him the night before. Hopefully tomorrow would bring happier times…
Follow @onegayatatimeRallying Friends
Posted by One Gay at a Time in Gay Dating on December 30, 2011
Every year, for the past four years, I’ve hosted an annual holiday party. Ironically, I started it with a First Annual Holiday Bash because I wanted it to become one of my holiday traditions. It would be the one time of year I gathered with my closest friends and spent time with them around the holidays to show just how much I truly appreciate their friendship.
From its first year, it’s been a big hit. An invitation one year is no guarantee of an invitation the following year. I always make sure I surround myself with the people in my life I care most about. If within the following year I fall out of touch with someone, I don’t extend an invitation.
Earlier this year, my friend reached out to me to plan weekends in December. She knows of my party and wanted to make sure I wasn’t hosting it the same night she was celebrating her birthday. We both picked dates and put it to bed.
Months later, I found out I was being evicted from my apartment since my landlord finally sold it. Our eviction date was November 30th; eleven days before the planned date of my holiday party.
This was one tradition I was not ready to relinquish, not matter what it took. Some of my friends look forward to the party a full year in advance. I make an incredible spread (not allowing anyone to bring any food of any sort), and everyone fasts for an entire day leading up to the party.
This posed a serious challenge. I would have to move into a new apartment, get it settled and cater for about forty people in ten days — A near impossible feat. However, my determination is not to be underestimated.
When I sent out my Evite, my sister immediately criticized the invitation of N. She was shocked to see I would invite him, but she also didn’t have the full story.
Apparently over the course of my short relationship with N, I mentioned my annual holiday party. As the holiday season was drawing nearer, he asked for the date of said party: “When is your holiday party so I can put it in my calendar? I’m trying to attend as many holiday parties as possible without missing one.”
Did he just invite himself to my holiday party?! I mean, he was on the maybe list, I’ll admit that. But I had no intention of inviting him in the first round of invitations.
This isn’t because I was holding a grudge over our failed relationship. It was mainly because I was disappointed in him. Considering we lived across the street from each other, I thought I’d at the very least be seeing him periodically. However, since our last discussion about our failed relationship, I hadn’t seen him once. I still had never been to his apartment considering I basically walked past it every day. He never put in an effort to be my friend following our breakup, so I no longer felt the need to attempt myself. I’d given up.
When he invited himself, I had to quickly think of the best and most dignified way to deal with the situation at hand. I started with honesty. “Oh.. Are you invited to my holiday party???” I quipped. “I’m …. just gonna go… f*ck myself…” he responded. I successfully made him feel uncomfortable, but then lightened the blow. I couldn’t do much. My hands were tied. I’m not rude enough to tell him he can’t come, but I wasn’t sure I really wanted him there either. “HAHAHA. Just giving you sh*t. Sending out the Evites today…”
When others friends learned of his attendance, they weren’t happy. I was confused by this. I didn’t think anyone would care. When we were dating, my friends loved him. Everyone approved and expressed this to me. He was a very charismatic guy to be around and played nice with all my friends. It was one of the biggest things that attracted me to him.
However, when he crushed me at the end of our relationship, everyone’s opinion of him quickly shifted.
I have to admit, I don’t know if my opinion wouldn’t have shifted so drastically. If he didn’t do anything to hurt me, I would see no need for malice toward him. I wouldn’t be his best friend, but I would certainly be civil.
This wasn’t the case with my friends. In an overwhelming show of support, they all rallied against him and attempted to convince me to retract my invitation.
I was blown away. I never experienced anything like that before from my friends. I was truly touched.
However, I would not be able to fulfill their requests. I was not capable of uninviting him. I also felt it gave him the satisfaction of thinking he still had an effect on my life. I’d completely moved on. It took a long time, and I went through a lot of turmoil to get to that point. But, I didn’t need him to know that. (Not quite sure if he’s still reading the blog…)
One friend, J, was particularly poignant in his disapproval. “I’ll crack his head open.” I told him I was going to be civil, but I wasn’t going to pay much attention to him when he arrived. “Honestly, I think its risky having him there. Especially since he is a drama oriented person.” He pointed out that N may bring up the blog in front of Smiles just to p*ss me off. “Good point… Going to have to tell him not to mention the blog,” I added. “He may leave early since no one really wants him there.”
K and some of my other friends expressed their lack of interest in interacting with him, and he didn’t really know many others. J responded, “If I have anything to do with it he will leave early.” I couldn’t believe how passionate J was getting about this. He’d never even met N. “Look I’ll be civil… but if he gets out of line you let me know.”
One of my other friends who witnessed my rebound in Martha’s Vineyard, Shorty, made the following suggestion: “You should warn him that your friends aren’t really fond of him so he doesn’t feel bombarded if people are mean to him.” “No one will be mean to him, but they’re not going to go out of their way to be nice,” I speculated. “Haha. I might be mean if I happen to end up talking to him :),” she finished.
I couldn’t believe how much my friends were rallying behind me. To be honest, I thought they all thought I blew things out of proportion when it ended. I thought they all looked at me like I was crazy for being so emotionally broken up after dating someone for a month and a half. He really did break me down a little bit, and I still feel some of the lasting effects of that relationship, as much as I would like to put it in the past and forget it. But, I thought they all thought I was being melodramatic. Apparently, they validated my sentiments.
On another level, N wanted to bring his new boyfriend. I’m sure he’s a sweet guy, but I’d never met him. I didn’t want him at my holiday party. It wasn’t the time or the place to meet him. Selfishly and childishly I also wanted the upper hand. I wanted N to see me happy with someone else, Smiles, while he didn’t have his security blanket to hold onto. I know that is very immature, but in the dating world, I am still a teenager. I’d like anyone to disagree with me they wouldn’t want to do the same thing.
So, I told him he couldn’t bring him. I explained he situation, and I think N accepted my reasoning. It was going to be an interesting night regardless. Many variables were bouncing around, and no one could predict the night, even if some of my friends wanted to start a pool of bets on how early in the night N departed…
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Posted by One Gay at a Time in Gay Dating on December 23, 2011
Sunday morning I was awoken as Smiles got up to use the restroom. I’d spent the entire weekend with him so far, so I certainly woke up on the right side of the bed.
He volunteered to make us coffee and breakfast. Smiles has never been much of a cook, so I was enjoying sitting back and watching him do it. It’s not that he can’t cook. It’s simply that he doesn’t do it very often. I came in the kitchen to kiss on the back of his neck and wrapped my long arms all the way around his body holding him tight. There’s something about hugging someone in that way that really warms me at the core.
I borrowed his computer and checked my emails/Facebook while he finished making me an amazing omelet. He brought it to me with coffee made just the way I like it. I’m sure my pleasure was written across my face as I thanked him. This was another great morning waking up with Smiles.
When he finished making his breakfast, he came into the living room and joined me. I told him how impressed I was with his omelet. It really was great — Better than I make myself.
When we finished eating, he told me his plan for the day to move all the boxes out of his apartment into storage. He’d finally moved everything into one storage center, and he was finally able to box everything up in his apartment he no longer needed on a daily basis. Now he just needed to transport them over to his storage unit. I volunteered to help, so he gave me a t-shirt, and we were on our way.
He reserved a Zipcar to do the job, so I gave him a ride to the garage to pick it up. I sat on the motorcycle outside the garage waiting for him to pass by and honk to follow him back to his apartment. A long time passed, but I just assumed it was taking a while to get his car. Little did I know, he was already on his way back to his apartment. He called me asking where I was, and I couldn’t figure out how he managed to pass me by without noticing I was still there or me seeing him drive by.
I stepped on it and sped back to his apartment. We packed the car to the gills and took a lot of things over to the storage center. In the meantime, Smiles was experiencing the onset of one of his chronic migraines. I felt so bad for him, but there was nothing I could do for him. We returned the Zipcar back to the garage and walked back to his apartment trying to find as much shade as possible on such a gorgeous November Sunday.
I put him to bed and went on my way about the rest of my day. I went back through the Holland Tunnel to may apartment. I had the better portion of the day ahead of me, so I decided to be productive while doing something relaxing. I finished all my grocery shopping for the week and began to cook food for dinner and lunch through the coming week.
Later that evening, he went out to grab dinner. On his walk home, he called just to chat. I expressed my concern for him and his headache, and he told me it was feeling slightly better slowly but surely. He told me he slept most of the day to try to relieve the pain, but there were still some lasting visual effects. He also told me he called to see how the rest of my day was. It was a sweet gesture considering I left him only a few hours earlier. The gesture proved to me he cared about me enough to call with no purpose.
Looking back over the weekend, I began to think about how much our relationship grew. It was a pretty special weekend overall. We spent about 45 hours straight together, and he was still not sick of me — So much so that he called. I would never say it out loud to him, but I started to wonder if I had managed to land a boyfriend along the way there somewhere…
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Posted by One Gay at a Time in Gay Dating on November 28, 2011
If having to work on a Sunday isn’t bad enough, following a night of heavy drinking only makes things worse. My coworkers noticed my less than human state and offered to get me things to ease my pain, but I explained I just wanted to finish work and go back to bed.
The day was long and arduous. Many of my coworkers were dragging their feet, and it was all I could do to light a fire under their asses. I was trying to be as time efficient as possible, but it was no use unless everyone else was onboard.
When I didn’t think my day could get any worse, my mother called to tell me my grandfather passed away. I was expecting the news, but I had no idea when the call would come. He had very advanced cancer, so it was only a matter of time. I know he was more than ready to go, at times basically asking the hospital to give him the “black pill,” but no one likes to see a loved one go.
I soldiered on through my day not mentioning it to anyone until I was about to leave. I needed to tell my boss I would out at the end of the week to go home for the funeral. He was very sympathetic and supportive.
Really, after such a long day at the office, I wanted nothing more than to see Smiles. He could make me happy, no matter what physical state I was in. I hadn’t seen him since Friday night, and I didn’t get to spend the night in his apartment. I was itching for more time with him.
When I was nearing the end of my workday, I texted Smiles to ask him if he wanted to grab dinner. After some time passed, he responded apologizing, “Ah shoot! Just seeing this now. I ordered pizza and I’m starring at the mess I have to clean up here.” I was a little disappointed, but I wasn’t giving up that easily.
“Mind a little company for an hour or so? Not going to be around this week really…” I texted. We had a very big pitch coming up that week, and I knew I would be working late most nights. This was my last stitch effort to see him for a while. He replied, “Come eat this pizza and hang out. It’s not like the mess is going to get any worse.”
This was my first time venturing to his apartment. I knew the general neighborhood, but not the exact location. After work, I took a cab to his apartment. I was very excited to see him and happy I was finally getting the invite to his place, even if I had to invite myself.
His apartment was not what I expected other than the mess he was describing. He was in the process of moving and office worth of things into a storage unit. I didn’t care about any of that. I just wanted to cuddle up next to him in bed.
He offered me pizza, but I explained I already ate. He suggested we watch a movie, and I agreed. We went into his bedroom and chatted while he picked a movie. I told him about my grandfather, and he lent me his sympathetic ear. We’d already talked about how he was ready to go when we discussed religion at his birthday lunch, so he was already quite versed in the situation.
In the meantime, he selected All Good Things while I snuggled up next to him. I have a thing with constantly petting guys I date. I don’t know why, but I just crave the physical connection. I was constantly stroking him gently with my finger tips throughout the movie, switching my hand positions periodically. It was all I could do to refrain from jumping his bones. It wasn’t the most romantic movie of the year, but I’d already seen it and had sex on the brain. It’d been a while since we last had sex, and I wanted more.
Sadly, that wouldn’t happen once again. When the movie ended, it was 11:00pm. He gently hinted at my departure, even going to the bathroom to brush his teeth. Yet another sexless night. I was really beginning to wonder why he didn’t want to have sex with me. I wondered if it was my issues coming between us or if he wasn’t attracted to me. He never gave me any compliments about my body even thought I made a point of complimenting his. Maybe he just didn’t find me attractive.
Regardless, I gave him a kiss goodnight and walked all the way back to the PATH station to head back to Hoboken. The whole walk, thoughts flew through my head like lightning. I was hurt and worried. Hard to admit, but I almost wanted to cry.
That wouldn’t be the worst part of my night however. In the middle of the night I was woken by violent stomach cramps. I ran to the bathroom and destroyed my toilet. At times, I had to debate which end was more priority to face the toilet. I got almost no sleep and had a full day of work ahead of me. There was no way I could take a sick day.
In the morning I was greeted with a text from Smiles: “Maybe a stomach flu? Up all night with cramps and still hurting 😦 .” I finally nailed the source. I caught some bug from him. “I shared your pain! Still sharing… Was trying to figure out what I could have eaten yesterday… And I have to work all day today… 😦 ,” I responded. To which he replied, “This is the worst!”
Karma was coming back at me something fierce. I don’t know who I p*ssed off royally to deserve such a bad weekend, but the only thing keeping me going was it couldn’t get any worse than it already was.
Follow @onegayatatimeUnexpected Lovin’
Posted by One Gay at a Time in Gay Dating on September 14, 2011
All week long, I was still reeling from my date with Prince Charming. He was really everything I was looking for in a man. Mature, driven, sexy, interesting, masculine… the list goes on. However, I couldn’t limit myself to just him. I needed a distraction or I would end up driving him away. Pillow seemed to have fallen by the wayside. Not sure what went wrong there, but I wasn’t going to put any more effort into chasing him down. After coffee with the midtown trainer, I realized the potential we had for compatibility. He seemed like a really great guy. On top of that, he was texting me asking when we were going to finally go out again, which is always a good sign. Apparently I made a good first impression.
We agreed to go out for dinner that Wednesday. He chose an Italian restaurant, Il Melagrano in the neighborhood between his gym and apartment. When I arrived, he was already sitting at a cozy table at the back of the establishment. I apologized for being slightly tardy, and we got to it.
We chatted a bit about what we were going to order, and then turned the conversation to our days so far. He had a very busy morning, while I had a day mainly filled with surfing the internet. When that conversation got stale, I brought the conversation back to something we spoke about on our first “date” — His skydiving trip. He was very excited, and we joked about all the possibilities of things going wrong and what he could do about it. When age came up, I could see he was uncomfortable with how much younger I was — Seven years. I told him not to think about it and to judge me on my actions and words and not my years on the planet. We changed topics of conversation periodically from working out, to work attire, to the Tough Mudder, to Fire Island, his dog and so on…
When our meal arrived, we continued the conversation. I feel as if I was doing a lot of the talking because he finished his food much sooner than I. When I realized this, I started asking more questions and did less of the talking myself. The conversation flowed well over our single glasses of wine, but it wasn’t 100% fluid. At one point during the conversation he mentioned his studio apartment: “Well, you’ll see it some day when it’s not a complete mess.” It was nice to hear, because it showed promise of another date and signaled to me he was a gentleman.
After coffee and desert, I walked him home. The conversation on the walk was much more jovial and relaxed. I felt very at ease with him. When we got to his apartment, I was ready to say goodbye on the street, but he invited me in to his lobby. We started making out and things began to get heavy. He backed himself up against the wall and pulled me in closer. His hands were all over my body, including down my pants, and I was seconds away from him having my shirt completely off. At that point, he paused long enough to hit the elevator button, signaling an invitation upstairs.
From the look of him, he was tipsy off the one drink we had at dinner. I wasn’t expecting to move this fast, so I was a little caught off-guard. I liked this guy and debated if I should be doing this with him already, but I just went with the flow like I usually do. When we entered the apartment, I got to meet his dog. She was very cute and friendly. He put her in the bathroom so she wouldn’t bother us while we got busy.
Seconds after I sat on the couch, he ripped my shirt off. At least I knew he was attracted to my body. Him being a personal trainer, I was self-conscious about my body. His was nothing short of spectacular, so I was hoping I’d live up to his standards.
We moved things to the bed, and both of us had our pants around our ankles. We were doing some heavy petting and grinding. It was a good time, but once again, I was having second thoughts about this. After some more fooling around, he finished. I wasn’t able to join in the fun as my head was a bit distracted. And then, on top of that, I was worried he’d wonder if there was something wrong with me or if I wasn’t attracted to him. Neither was the case. It’s just something that has always been adversely affected by mental distraction.
While he went to clean up, I began to put my pants back on. He already established he was getting up around 5:00am to go for a run and had a 6:00am client. I knew he wouldn’t want me to linger for small-talk. He came back and sat next to me with the dog at our feet. She already took a shining to me after I gave her an extensive belly rub, but when he went to give me a kiss, she started making noise. At this point, he made a game of it and started testing her, scolding her between every kiss until she didn’t make a sound.
At that, I gathered my things and said goodbye with a kiss. I walked down to Port Authority to take the bus home. Normally, my MO. was to text immediately and tell him how much I enjoyed the date, but this time I waited to see if he texted me the next day to see if he was interested, especially since the night didn’t end exactly smoothly. Only time would tell…
Follow @onegayatatimeAt the ripe age of 26, I came to a life changing conclusion. I'm GAY!
It took me 26 years to realize this and come to terms with it, but coming out's been the best decision of my life.
This blog is about my dating life in NYC and what happens next...
One Gay at a Time 