Posts Tagged ashamed
Another Monday. Another day at work. My staycation was officially over. Another day periodically checking Grindr.
I spent my vacation getting myself back. The only problem was I only repaired the physical me, not the mental and emotional me. I wasn’t on Grindr all day long, but I would periodically check it to see if anyone had messaged me. I was simply a Grindr fish. No longer would I be a fisherman.
I had a dermatologist appointment in the middle of the day. While walking to my appointment, I fired up Grindr. I was curious to see if anyone was scoping me out. I was also in a new neighborhood. I was hoping to find something new and unexpected. In the short window it took me to walk about twenty blocks, I’d managed to strike up a conversation with three different guys. All seemed to be quite level-headed. I told them all I was looking for dates, and all of them seemed excited at the prospect. It was difficult trying to keep three conversations going at the same time. I told them I was walking into my appointment and asked each of them for their phone numbers. I managed to pick up a lawyer, an actor and someone who worked for a magazine rating cruise ships. I asked each of them for their pictures to add to my roster and went to see my doctor about lightening up a scar.
When my appointment was over, I thought I’d make my walk seem shorter by checking messages on Grindr once again. A guy near my office was on and started messaging me. He seemed pretty hot and well fit. He was staying at a hotel near me and was anxious to give head. I told myself not to even continue the conversation, but once again, I found myself thinking with the wrong head. I entertained the idea and asked him what he was proposing specifically. He told me he had to catch a flight in a short while, but wanted some fun before leaving New York. I immediately knew which hotel he was staying at and his occupation. “You’re a flight attendant staying at the Radisson, aren’t you?” I asked. “Yea. How did you know?” he replied. “Not the first one I’ve talked to at that hotel. You guys love that hotel, and you guys love Grindr. So what exactly are you looking for?” I texted.
He asked me to come to his room. He would leave the door ajar. I would walk in, he would tear off my pants and just begin orally pleasuring me. I wouldn’t have to touch him or do anything to him. He just really wanted to blow someone. I knew better, but I still bit anyway. I figured, “What’s the harm?” Work had no idea how long my appointment would last, and it was a slow day at the office. I decided to take a detour, but I basically had to run to his apartment. Thank God I have long legs to get me there. He was anxious because his checkout was very soon.
I arrived at his hotel in time for an afternoon tryst. I hopped in the elevator and made my way to his room. I’d been here before. This wasn’t my first b.j. from a flight attendant at the Radisson. I really needed to stop making that a habit, but at the time, I was excited to get off in the middle of the afternoon. I arrived at his room, and the door was left ajar.
Warning: The following may be too graphic for some. I walked in and said hi. He immediately began lifting my shirt and sucking on my nipples. I lifted my shirt off, and he undid my pants. Just then, he turned to me and asked, “You’re really clean right?” I assured him I was. “You can never been too sure,” he added.
He began pleasuring me. After a few minutes, I made my way to the bed and laid back. I wanted to fully enjoy him. It wasn’t too long before he worked his magic, and I was able to conjure up exciting mental images. I shot in his mouth and all over his face and chest. He spit on my chest and began working on himself. Seconds later, he shot all over my leg. “Let me grab you a towel,” he said immediately. I wasn’t moving. I was quite anxious to get both of “us” off me.
I cleaned up and began to exchange small-talk with him. He was Austrian and was headed home that evening shortly after I would be departing his room. I needed to get back to the office, and he needed to finish getting ready for work. He told me how much he enjoyed himself, and with that, I made my way out the door.
Shamelessly, I had a smile from ear to ear. I was still high from the endorphins. It felt amazing. I was ashamed and proud in the same moment. I still knew I was broken inside and needed to stop having these trysts with strangers, but I was also enjoying my sexual liberation. Somewhere, there had to be a happy medium. It was up to me to find it…Follow @onegayatatime
New Year’s Day, Smiles woke me in the morning. I was in a complete fog. I immediately began wracking my brain to remember how the night ended. I knew we had sex, and once again, I could only remember a tiny flash of the intimate moment we shared the night before but no more than a flash. I could remember being p*ssed at Smiles on the walk home for walking five paces in front of me. And, I could remember smoking on the balcony.
Smiles was up and about walking around the apartment. I searched the room for my briefs, but couldn’t locate them. He came in the room and retrieved them for me from deep within the sheets. I had a massive headache, so he gave me some pain killers and water. It was sweet of him to take care of me in my still inebriated/hungover state. I asked Smiles about leaving the party, and he recounted the details for me. It was clear he wasn’t thrilled about it, but he also wasn’t holding it against me. The he uttered, “And I haven’t even gotten to the fun part yet!” he added.
He was going to leave it at that. I told him he couldn’t do that to me. He had to tell me what else I did. He asked if I really wanted to know, and I insisted. This is the “fun” part:
Apparently, the advances made by the guy on the balcony didn’t end there. Clearly he was persistent, and clearly I was vulnerable and well intoxicated. Smiles recounted a scene for me that drained all the blood from my face. “[The guy who sang my praises to Smiles] came up to me and asked me if you were okay. When I told him you were fine, he replied, ‘Are you sure? Because he’s making out with someone else on the couch.” I nearly passed out. I couldn’t believe it. Was I really capable of that? Could I really do that to another person after witnessing N do that to me? Was I that heartless?
I racked my brain trying to remember any bit of a make-out session on the couch. A vague image came to mind of this man kissing all over my neck. I remember asking him to stop, but also couldn’t remember putting up a strong fight. I’m not sure if my mind was making this up or if it was reality. Either way, my actions were deplorable.
I froze. I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know what to say. I couldn’t believe he was still speaking to me. I couldn’t believe he still had sex with me that night after that. I was mortified. What was going on? My head was spinning!
“What did you do? Did you come over and stop it?” I asked. He shook his head no.
“[Smiles], I don’t know how to apologize for that. I can’t believe I did that! I can’t believe your still speaking to me right now. I can’t believe you didn’t leave me there. I don’t have words for how sorry I am. I don’t remember any of that. At all!” I plead.
“It’s okay. You were drunk. It was New Year’s Eve. Don’t worry about it,” he said.
Don’t worry about it!? I made out with another guy in front of you, and you tell me don’t worry about it?! Should I be happy you’re not that upset about it, or should I be even more hurt that you’re not phased by it. “I still don’t know what to say. I can’t believe I did that,” I added. He just looked back at me with a face that said, “Yeah. You did that.” I wanted to slither away into darkness and forget the world.
We continued to get ready for brunch and walked out the door. As we walked, all I could think about was how disrespectful I was to the man I’d grown so fondly of. Sure we had our moments where I questioned our relationship, but what I did was unforgivable. I would not have been able to forgive myself for what I did. When N did it to me, it signaled the end of our relationship.
I did this in front of his friends — Many of which I told I was dating Smiles. I made myself look like a complete whore, and I made Smiles look like a fool. The man who was singing my praises was the man who witnessed my greatest downfall. This was one of the worst things I’ve ever done in my life, and there was no making up for it and no undoing it.
I continued to tell Smiles how bad I felt about the whole thing. He was trying to make conversation and ignore the subject, but it was all my mind could fixate on. “It’s fine. Stop worrying about it,” he kept saying. We ate breakfast and talked about a few things I can’t recall because my mind was completely elsewhere. I was crushed. I almost had to leave the restaurant, Extra Virgin — His favorite restaurant, so I could go outside and cry.
It was a gorgeous day, and Smiles told me he wanted to go for a bike ride. He asked what I had planned for the day. I couldn’t think. I had no plans. I was hoping to spend the day with Smiles, but clearly that wasn’t an option. I decided I was going to try to meet Boston before he left the city, even if it was at the bus stop. I had to tell him what I did. I knew he wouldn’t look favorably on me, but I also knew he wouldn’t judge me. I left Smiles with a kiss as he walked south, and I turned and walked north. I decided to walk off my disgrace.
As I pounded the pavement from 11th street to 43rd, I tried reaching Boston. He wasn’t answering the nearly twenty-five calls I made to him. I needed him. I needed someone to talk to. I decided to hit up my roommate and see what she was doing. Maybe we could curl up on the couch and watch a movie to help make the day pass by. I talked to her for a bit, but she had plans. I couldn’t bring myself to tell here what I did. I was too ashamed. I would tell her later.
I decided to call Smiles during my walk. I wanted to make sure he knew how broken up I was about it if we were to survive this. I reiterated how bad I felt and how wrong I was as I tried to choke back tears and a vocal quiver. “Listen. It’s okay. It’s in the past. It was New Year’s Eve. You were drunk. That was 2011. This is 2012. Don’t worry about it. It’s alright,” he assured me. I think he realized how upset this made me, and that was all I could do. My fate was in his hands…Follow @onegayatatime