Posts Tagged Chinese food

Things Heat Up

In the summer, my company offers half day Fridays. It’s an amazing perk, and I take full advantage.

GroceryShoppingI live for my weekends, so if there was anything I could do to make them better, I did. I utilized my free Friday afternoons to run my errands so Saturday and Sunday would be all mine. I tried to clean and do laundry, run to the grocery store, etc.

This Friday, I was very successful getting through my list. I stopped by my allergist for my weekly shot. Since I left work at 1:00, I decided to eat lunch at McDonalds (never a good decision). While sitting there, I noticed two men walking holding hands across the street. I was a bit surprised. I immediately thought, “We do that in Hoboken?!” In the six years I’d lived in Hoboken, only once before had I seen two men holding hands. I was thrilled to see the courage and the progress.

When I finished eating, I swung by the salon for a haircut and hit up the gym to lift and swim. After my swim, I called CK from the roof deck of the gym. Although we made tentative plans for Saturday night, we hadn’t discussed plans for that night. It was our anniversary. He automatically assumed I was spending the night in the city since he came to Hoboken the previous night. I was not under the same impression, so I explained I did not want to spend both Friday and Saturday night away from place. I told him to pick one. This of course turned into an argument. He complained about the trek to Hoboken, and I resented this. I’d made the trip back into the city to be with him many times after a long day at work, and I did it without complaint. He always made it seem like torture when he had to traverse the Hudson River. The argument grew more and more heated until he threatened not to come at all. I wasn’t having any more of this, so I hung up on him.

Rooftop Phone CallI was tired of this game we were playing. I didn’t want to argue anymore. In addition, my testosterone was already flowing after a solid workout, and my blood was beginning to boil with every complaint.

After I got home and a few minutes passed, he called back (He always was good at playing the role of peacemaker). He told me he’d come to Hoboken, but it wouldn’t be until later. We discussed the argument calmly, and both apologized for getting out of hand. He explained he had assumption I was coming there all day. The idea of him trekking out to Hoboken on a bus wasn’t all that thrilling to him after having those expectations all day. I explained how one of us would always have to make the trek to the other. There was nothing we could do about that, at least for now, so the more fair and balanced we could make it (and the less complaining), the less burdensome it would feel. He agreed.

Since I had a fair amount of time before his arrival, I continued with my to-do list and swung by Shop Rite and Target. When I finished and returned home, I was still a bit depressed from the bad news I’d received at work that week, so I plopped down on the couch and watched TV until CK arrived.

WatchingTVHours passed, and I heard nothing from him. I felt he was dragging his feet and as every minute passed, I grew more and more annoyed. He told me he had to shower before coming over. He obviously wasn’t still showering. I was sure he was just lounging about, which is fine. But I wanted him to be lounging about with me.

This wasn’t just any night after all. We were supposed to be “celebrating” our three-month anniversary. I finally got so annoyed I sent him a text: “Maybe tonight would be better spent apart. I’m in a really cranky mood now.” It was already past 10:00. At this point he was coming over to sleep and not much else. He called and told me he was already in a cab on the way to the PATH. I encouraged him not to doddle before saying goodbye. I needed to cool off before he arrived, or it was a guaranteed fight the moment he arrived. It seemed all the smallest things so easily got under my skin. I was all wound up. Work was stressing me out. Life was stressing me out…

Finally, at 11:00, he arrived, flowers in hand to make up for the botched night. Honestly, I would have preferred he came three hours prior, but the gesture was utterly sweet. And, I forgave/thanked him immediately. I tried to be cool with everything and have a nice time with him since it was a special night. There was no use being miserable.

It wasn’t really his fault either. Work made me a miserable son-of-a-b*tch. He asked me how my day was. I further explained my new predicament and fretted over the possibility of being unemployed in the near future. I was very pessimistic about the whole situation.

DepressedI certainly will hand it to him. He remained positive and tried to assure me everything would be fine. This is why I loved him so much. NO matter how much of a Debbie Downer I can be, he always picks me up and dusts me off. In spite of my pessimism, he was always optimistic.

We also learned to collaborate professionally. We were helping each other bolster up our positions in the social media realm of our jobs. He taught me things I didn’t know about, and through my recent vigorous research, I taught him a thing or two as well.

When I’d had enough talk of my job situation, we agreed to order Chinese food for dinner. I was too tired to cook. While we waited for the food to arrive, we smoked to relax.

He told me about his day at work and the stellar presentation he delivered to the powers that be. He was proposing a new initiative that was well received by the decision-makers. I was happy for him, but also jealous. Sure, I realize how horrible that is to say, but I’m nothing if I’m not honest.

The rest of the night was much better than the evening had begun. Eventually, I forgot all about our fight and my emotions were back in check. We ate our food while watching TV in each other’s arms on the couch.

GeneralTsosI finished eating, but CK was still chowing down as he poured some of the General Tso’s sauce onto on his plate. After a few minutes, he started fretting. Apparently, he’d eaten something quite hot. After investigating, I realized he ate a whole chili pepper. Tears were streaming down his face as he rinsed his mouth over and over again in the sink. Next he tried a glass of milk and a few pieces of bread. That didn’t seem to be helping. He even took to wiping his tongue with a napkin. Nothing helped. It was all I could do to maintain my composure, but after a while I couldn’t hold back. His face wasn’t the only one wet from tears. I was hysterically laughing so hard I was crying.

After a good laugh, interspersed with failing advice, I consulted Google for a better solution. We’d tried everything in the book. When I told him someone suggested eating another one, he looked like he was going to throw me out the third-story window. I was still getting a chuckle out of all this but certainly at his expense. It was torture for him, but he had no idea the gift he was giving me. He delivered exactly what I needed that night — A good laugh.

Eventually the pain subsided, and he forgot all about the incident. As our eyelids grew heavier and heavier, we moved to my bedroom for the night. As tired as we were, our appetites weren’t quite satiated.

We were pinning each other down for the count before we counting sheep. As hot as things were for him during dinner, things in the bedroom were even hotter. We tired ourselves out between the sheets before he finally drifted off to slumber wrapped in my arms. That night taught me something very important. No matter how much we fought, this was the man I loved, and there was no changing that.

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What Do You Want From This?

Tuesday came and went, and N and I barely talked. We usually messaged each other during the day at work on Gchat, but that day he wasn’t able to sign on. I was a little suspicious, but he said it happens periodically. I asked him to come over that night, and he said he would come by late. He wanted to go to the gym since he didn’t go the night before and ate and drank a lot at the graduation party.

I needed to further our discussion about what we were doing and where we were heading. I wasn’t satisfied with the current path laid out, so something needed to change.

When he came over, things were awkward. I didn’t get nearly the warm greeting I usually got. He hadn’t eaten, so he ordered a ton of food — Enough to feed three people. He also brought along supplies to smoke. We went out on the balcony so he could smoke. I was still feeling nauseous and not eating much. He mentioned smoking might be a good thing for my nausea. I hadn’t thought of that, and immediately agreed. The idea of smoking in my state wasn’t appealing, but the idea of feeling better sounded great at that point.

I asked him if we could talk about us. I wanted to get to him before his state of mind was altered. He responded, “Can I eat my food first?” Begrudgingly, I agreed, but this was torture for me. I knew it wouldn’t be a quick meal, and this was already eating at me for days. But, I would have to wait longer. We chatted a bit while I watched him eat, but the conversation was superficial and lacked substance.

When he was finishing eating, I was getting very flirtatious with him. I don’t know why I did this. Maybe I thought it was the only way to grab his attention. Maybe I was simply horny. Either way, we were making out in the kitchen and moved things to the bedroom. We had some fun and pleasured each other.

Warning: The following paragraph may be more graphic than you are used to reading here. When we got into bed, I started with the heavy petting and started using my mouth. After a short bit, we switched, and N gave me head. He always told me how much he enjoyed my dick and the taste of it. Whether or not this was just a line I will never know. I noticed immediately he was utilizing some new techniques. Of course my mind began to wonder where these came from? Another man recently perhaps? Either way, it felt great. Normally it took me some time to finish, but not tonight. He was finding all the right spots. I was very close, and right when he went deep, I exploded down the back of his throat. I didn’t make a noise when this was happening. I assumed he knew and that’s why he went deeper. When he pulled back, he asked why I didn’t tell him I was going to finish. I reminded him of an earlier discussion we had in which he told me I never needed to warn him of that. A big part of me did it on purpose. I did it in a power move. It made me feel like I had the upper hand. However, the power shifted almost immediately. He didn’t swallow all of my seed. A good portion was deposited back al over his hand. He motioned as if he was going to slap my chest with his semen-covered hand, but I protested. Instead, he quickly shifted and slid a semen-covered finger across my forehead and proclaimed, “Simba” and began to perform a victory dance around my bedroom. I have never before been so disrespected in my life. This one act solidified in my mind my status as his convenient booty call. No one disrespects someone they care about in this manner.

When we were finished, I ended up, arms folded, resting naked on his chest. Our faces were locked on each other, and I posed my question again, “Now can we talk about us?”

This whole time I felt like such a woman. I was doing all the things a needy girl does in a relationship, and I didn’t like it. But, I didn’t know what else to do. I needed answers, and I needed to know if he still had feelings for me.

So, I started the conversation. I asked, “What do you want from this?” I didn’t get a response. So, I posed another a better-phrased question, “Do you like where things are going?” He responded with a definitive yes. He explained he really enjoys spending time with me and thinks things were progressing well. I then asked, “Do you think we’re moving too fast?” Again, he said yes, and I agreed with him. We only knew each other a month and a half and he was spending almost every night in my bed. I took a lot of the blame here. I should have known better then to put us into that situation considering how new a gay relationship was for him. I asked if he wanted to take a step back, and again he said yes. I agreed and explained maybe we shouldn’t spend so much time together. In my mind, in light of recent events, I was already taking a step back to protect my own feelings. Now, I was going to give him all the space he needed. I was no longer going to be the first to initiate contact. I would respond to his messages, but I was going to give him a lot of space.

I know my hands were not clean at all. I had sex with another man. I justified it in my mind because it was just sex, and it was just to even the playing field for the suspected cheating. I had no emotional attachment to the man. But, in my mind, what N did at the bar was so much worse. I felt he was seeking out another relationship under my nose, not just a physical need. I now know how warped and hypocritical all this sounds, but at the time, it made sense to me.

I then took the opportunity to address N’s time spent on Grindr and at the gym. As he did two days earlier, he told me he was not actively seeking anything. He was just talking, “and not like ‘I want to stick it in your ass’ talking.” I knew better. No one just talks on Grindr. After all, it’s how I met N, and it’s how I met the random hookup. I wasn’t buying his line about just talking at all.

I told him if this was going to work, he needed to be completely honest with me. I could stand not being exclusive (or so I thought), but if that was the case, I needed to be kept in the loop. Looking back, I knew better. I don’t share my men. I knew that was not an arrangement I could be a part of, but I wasn’t ready to let him go.

We talked about how he didn’t need to spend every night with in my bed. He lived across the street. Some nights we could just do our own thing. He needed freedom, and I needed to give it to him if I wanted to keep him.

With that, it was starting to get late. I walked over to my phone and asked what time he needed to get up in the morning so I could set the alarm. He responded, “Well, I was going to go home.” I think my facial expression must have said a lot, because he immediately began to back peddle. He said, “No, but I’ll stay.” I said, “You can go home. You don’t have to stay. It’s fine.” I wasn’t even simply being passive aggressive. He insisted on staying now, and I gave him one more out. At this point, he pulled down the covers and got under the sheets.

The fact that he wanted to leave after our discussion painted a clearer picture for me. This was over. I didn’t fully know it yet, but we were done.

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