Posts Tagged college

Equilibrium

After our week in the “country” house, as CK liked to call it, it was time to utilize our city abode. It was in no shape, however, to be lived in. Sure, the new bed was delivered, the delivery of which was a bit of contention between us, but the bed was surrounded by towers of boxes.

The day the bed was delivered followed a week straight with CK. There were errands I needed to take care of I never got to do when we were together. Because of this, I dropped CK off for the bus and told him I would meet him in the city later. I was trying to be productive with my time, rather than waiting for the bed to be delivered with him. Looking back, we probably should have just done them together, but at the time, I didn’t want to subject him to my boring burdens.

We were both eating dinner when I cooked at my place, so there’s no reason I should feel guilty dragging him to the grocery store. Going forward, I learned to shed that guilt quite easily. But on the flip side, this meant I would be going to the grocery store with him on the other side of the river. That seemed like a much better arrangement. I was beginning to resent that I had to do the responsible duties while he had all the fun, but that wasn’t fair to him. He never turned me down when I asked him to help me, but in reality, I never asked him in the first place. I couldn’t resent him if I didn’t give him the chance to delight me. There were lots of not exciting things we would both need to do, like cleaning our apartments, that while not fun at all, they could be completed much faster with both our efforts in tandem. Our lives were blending together, and I loved it. It wasn’t smooth, but I loved it.

On the flip side, since we were spending so much time together, I was finding it hard to make the time to work out. My body was paying the price, and as a result, my self-esteem plummeted even lower. I needed to start running again. I needed to get back in the gym and start lifting again.

This posed the challenge of a delicate situation. CK proposed that we work out together. I knew I was a far better runner than CK was. That’s not a dig against him at all, but put simply, I ran cross-country in high school and swam in college. In order for me to get results from my workouts, I needed to push myself, and I needed to push myself hard! I wouldn’t be able to do that if I was holding back to run at CK’s pace. I didn’t want to insult him or his abilities, but I wasn’t sure this was something we’d be able to integrate.

Regardless of this, I decided to make an effort to give it a shot. When I told CK I wanted to go for a run one night, he wanted to join me. We both got ready and walked over to the west bank of the Hudson to run along the trail. As I predicted, we clocked a pace much less effective than I was hoping. I decided I needed to speak up. I was met with the response I had dreaded. He took insult to my comments that I needed to run faster. I didn’t know any way to navigate this without creating a conflict. He took it personally that I was insinuating he was holding me back.

As a result, he played the role of the martyr and told me to take off. The result of running at our own pace was what I was hoping for, but the hurt feelings and passive-aggressive response was exactly what I was hoping to avoid. I tried to talk to him about it to make it a discussion so there would be no hurt feelings, but he wanted none of it. He’d rather I just go, so that’s what I did.

While I ran, I thought about how to deal with the fallout of this. It made sense to me that we work out together, but we needed to do it in a way that benefited us both. I was going to resent it if I wasn’t getting the full potential out of the workout, and that benefits no one. That’s when I came up with a solution:

When we ran together, we would start out together at a warm-up pace. When I was sufficiently warmed up, I would pick up the pace and run ahead of him. When I felt I was half way through the workout, I would turn around and pick him up on the way back. When I overtook him, I would slow down to a cool down pace. I thought it the perfect solution.

It’s also basically what we were doing. When I turned around, I quickly came to find myself right behind him. As we ran, I proposed this new idea, but he still wasn’t having any part of it. I realized I was in a losing battle, and this would have to be addressed later when his ego healed.

Working out in the gym was also a whole other battle. When I go to the gym I like to be by myself. I do not treat it as a social excursion. I am there to work out and go home. I don’t even like spotting someone when they ask me for help. I resent it because I am there for my workout, not theirs. I don’t ask anyone else to spot me. I am not a trainer or an employee. Why should I be “working” at the gym? I know this sounds very antisocial, and that’s exactly what it is. I’m not the biggest fan of lifting. I see it as a necessary evil. I want to get in and out of there as quickly as possible.

When CK asked me to lift with him all the time, I was very hesitant. I loved him, but I was so used to lifting by myself. I knew if we did this together, I would get cranky, and it would start a fight. I was trying to save us from that. I also liked to go to the gym during my lunch break at work, so when he would ask me to hit the gym with him in the morning or the evening, I wouldn’t want to. I would want to use that time for far more fun things.

It was going to be a delicate balance, trying to integrate our lives, but eventually we would find equilibrium. Both sides would have to make sacrifices and concessions, but both sides would benefit from each other as well. Needless to say, CK was the first guy I’d gone to these steps with. It was new territory for me, but it was certainly exciting as well!

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Comedic Timing

Every morning I woke up happier than the day before. I had an amazing boyfriend who would only make my day brighter. On top of that, I had an amazing new bed. I couldn’t believe the different a solid platform bed made over a standard metal frame. I slept so well, I slept through my alarm. I woke Wednesday morning at 9:00am. I was going to be late for work!

When I got to work, I solidified my plans with CK for the evening. I was planning to run home after work to pack an overnight bag, but after texting with CK, I learned he was planning to spend the night at my place. We would meet at his place before hitting up the show. He was hoping to get home by 7:00. As the day progressed, he informed me he would be lucky if he could leave work by 8:00. I decided not to run home. Instead I hung at the office and write a few blog posts.

When 8:00 hit, he headed home, and I made my way over as well. He was going to hop in the shower, so he told me he’d leave the door unlocked. When I got to the door, it was locked. I buzzed, and he answered in his briefs. I ran and threw my arms around him, and we had a five-minute makeout session. He was a bit sweaty and told me how gross he was. “I smell like balls,” he added. We both fell to the bed in tight embrace and began rolling around the bed.

I was so happy to see him. I had missed him, but seeing him made it seem all the more extreme. I was downright giddy. We playfully rolled around the bed kissing each other all over. CK proceeded to continue to bite me. I told him to stop.

I finally laid down the law a bit. I told him how much it hurts. I explained that nibbling was okay, but the biting was starting to leave black-and-blue marks. He calmed down a bit. He then proceeded to attempt to pin me down so he could playfully put his smelly balls on me. I playfully resisted and protested. Luckily for me, I’m stronger than him. Finally, he made his way to the shower. I sat on the couch reading until he emerged. We fooled around a little more before finally making our way to snag a cab to the Lower East Side.

When we got to the event at the Upright Citizens Brigade, I realized this was something organized through work. It was a packed house. It was difficult to maneuver through the full bar, especially with my work bag and CK’s overnight bag. That’s when he kinda let me have it. He pointed out just how much he hates carrying a bag around. He originally wanted to swing by his place on our way to my apartment. I suggested bringing his bag with him since we’d already be downtown. He also pointed out to me how he wanted to drop his bag off at my apartment when we were walking through the festival that Sunday, but I didn’t make that happen. I offered to carry his bag then, and I offered to trade bags with him at the event since mine was very small and light.

In the end, it was fine. He got over it and thanked me for taking care of his bag while he grabbed us drinks. We were seated shortly, and it wasn’t that much of an inconvenience.

The show was hysterical. I recognized an old coworker in the crowd and someone I went to college with on stage. He was the best of the whole lot. I was very impressed. It was nice to do something fun with CK.

When the show was over, he was ready to head out into the rain. We grabbed Mexican at a restaurant around the corner. It was very good and we have a good time sharing a bunch of tacos and flan. We talked about how we met and how lucky we were to find each other. We also talked about the hot bartender. I noticed him when we arrived but didn’t mention anything. It took CK until we were ordering dessert to notice and pointed it out to me. He was surprised to hear I’d already noticed him.

We hopped in a cab to the PATH and made our way to my apartment. We barely made the train. I didn’t know he needed to buy separate trips for the PATH from the MetroCard, so I quickly scanned my card for him while holding the train doors open so it couldn’t leave.

As we walked to my place, I opened my umbrella, and he asked if he minded if he locked his hand on my arm. Again, I felt slightly uncomfortable, but I needed to force myself to get used to it. This was my life. There’s no changing it. I was curious what made him ask that. Was I that bad at hiding my unease? I told him it was fine. He also wanted to see if he could figure out the way back to my place without help. I was impressed when he pulled it off.

When we got to my apartment, we went straight to my bedroom. It was late, so we both stripped down to briefs and boxers. It was nice to lay in his warm embrace finally. It really made my night. It wasn’t long before we started fooling around. This of course led to sex. “Do you want to f*ck me?” he asked. I expressed me strong desire to, but then he flipped it on me. “Can I f*ck you?” he added. I agreed, and we got it on. (I was very happy to see the bed hold up so well and not make a sound. It truly was a worthwhile investment.)

We both lay there incapacitated for some time before he asked if I wanted to f*ck him. “When I get feeling back in my legs, maybe,” I said. In the back of my mind, I was saving my turn for the morning. I’m always horniest then, and it’d been a while. I knew it would feel amazing.

Instead, we started to watch Revenge. About ten minutes into the show, he was gently snoring. I woke at 4:00am to find the TV and lights still on. I turned them off and tucked us in under the comforters.

Waking in the morning to his smiling face in mine was priceless. We kissed immediately, and I felt amazing. I really liked CK! He was everything I needed in a man. I didn’t have one single complaint about him at that moment. He was spectacular.

Warning: The following may be too graphic for some. After a lot of cuddling and snoozes, he began blowing me. It felt great, but I was really hoping for penetration. Finally, positions shifted, and I found the great pleasure of being inside him.

The time came to get ready for work. He needed to be there by 9:00 and put me in charge of making sure that happened. He went into the bathroom for some time before he emerged and asked if I wanted to join him in the shower. I obliged his request. Who could turn down such a sexy man with hot water streaming across his body?

We ended up leaving the apartment slightly late. I flagged us a cab to make up for some time, and we managed to catch the PATH just as it was about to embark. I kissed him at Christopher Street station and said goodbye.

When I got to work, I was already missing him. The previous night, he mentioned his disappointment in not being able to be around for my birthday. I told him I understood. His mother was coming into town. I thought it was very sweet of him to be disappointed, especially since I don’t really celebrate my birthday. I sent him a text to let him know I missed him. He responded telling me he missed me too, and he was having a very productive and good morning. I was happy for/proud of him.

I was really falling for him. I even took a moment out of my day to update my status on Facebook to reflect my new status. I couldn’t be certain where things were headed after only a month, but if things continued the way they were going, I certainly was onboard! Maybe I would finally find love.

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Absence Makes the Heart Grow Fonder

Saturday, I felt like there wasn’t a moment to relax. Whenever my parents come into town, it’s stressful. I am navigator, concierge, tour guide, etc. I love them, but I never really get to enjoy it. I’m always “on.”

My sister drove into the city, and we grabbed lunch across the street from Lincoln Center. This was followed by War Horse. It was pretty amazing seeing men puppeteer horses on the stage.

When the show ended, my parents and I made our way home to Hoboken on the bus after stopping at Crabtree and Evelyn so my mother could buy some product.

CK and I texted periodically throughout the day. He went back out to Brooklyn to his friend’s apartment for dinner. They were joined by the couple we’d gone on the Avengers double date with. He seemed to be enjoying a nice relaxing day with the boys.

Finally, they were gone. I could relax and go nuts. The last thing I wanted to worry about was what to make for dinner. My sister texted asking what I was doing, and I had the idea to order sushi. She was game, so she called in the order and came to my apartment to eat and pregame.

I began to text friends to round up a crew to hit up the bar. I realized it’d been some time since I had a wild night out. I wanted to get drunk! Sadly, the crew would be very small. People were either out of town or had other plans. I was only able to get my sister and P to go out.

CK was texting me. He told me about his day. He told me he mentioned our new status as an official couple to the guys. I learned one of his friends said we looked very happy together, and the other pointed out I was about to have my hands full. “That boy has no idea what he’s in for,” he said. He came back from Brooklyn, and I could tell he wanted to hang out. He kept hinting, but I wanted a night with friends. I needed a drunk night, and I didn’t think he’d be up for that. I also didn’t want him to get tired of me. We already had plans for the following day. I pretended not to notice his hints and explained my plans for the evening. I told him I’d hit him up when I came home if he was still up and said goodnight. I also reiterated to him how happy he made me.

After we finished our sushi, P joined us. We did some shots and drank some more before heading to my local haunt, McSwiggans. The manager was standing outside, so we said hi, and he escorted us past the line right in the door.

It was exceptionally crowded, being Cinqo de Mayo. I barely made it to the bar to say hi to one of my favorite bartenders. She asked where’d I’d been, and I told her she needs to start working Thursday nights if she wanted to see me more often.

We tried to stake claim to a spot on the “dance floor” but were constantly shuffled and pushed aside as others maneuvered the bar. It wasn’t long before a teammate of mine from college recognized me. When I saw him, I cut through the crowd to say hi and exchange a manly bear hug. It’d been a long time since I’d seen him. He was in Hoboken visiting friends. He pointed out the few others around the bar I knew from college, and I said hi to all.

Overall, the night was alright. I didn’t stay out too late. I was home by 1:30am. It’d been weeks since I went wild on the weekend. I needed that. I only hoped it would have been a bit bigger and involved more friends. I realized CK and I needed to find some time to get drunk and go dancing together. We were long overdue.

The next day, he’d be coming over for our local festival and staying for dinner. I was most excited he’d be spending the night as well.

When I got home, I texted him to see if he was still awake. I got no response. I decided to call anyway, but I got no answer. I was missing him and wanted to talk to him. That, however, was not possible. With that, I climbed into bed disappointed and realized how empty my bed felt without him…

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When It Rains, It Pours

Today is another Fast Forward Friday!!!  

Hope you are enjoying these. It will help bring the blog a little closer to real-time. If you’re keeping up with the stories chronologically, please skip down to this morning’s post first, then read this one. I think it’s a good one! Enjoy!

Back to your special edition of One Gay At A Time…

Life was good. I finally met a man who seemed to be too good to be true. We’d already been on three unforgettable dates, and things were only getting better.

Saturday morning, I said goodbye to Clark Kent when I dropped him off in the city. I wanted to spend every waking minute with him, but things were still fresh and young for us. It’d only been a week. I needed to stop my habit of diving in head first, or I could be in for a world of hurt. Saturday night, I made plans with friends to go out. One of the guys I swam with in college asked me to come by to pregame and then go to the bar with him and some other friends. It’d been months since a request like that came in, so I was ready and raring to go. By the time I got ready to go out after running all my errands, they moved things to the bar. I met the group at Black Bear in Hoboken. These friends are serious triathletes, so they never go out, and when they do, they go to bed early. I also encouraged my other friend P to join us.

When I got to the bar, I sent CK a text to see what he was up to. He responded by telling me to come into the city and spend the night with him. Had he texted me a half hour earlier, I probably would have never entered the bar and would have gone straight into the city. I stepped outside to call him and explain. I really wanted to go see him since I couldn’t get enough of him, but P had just arrived. I didn’t want to ditch her. He fully understood. A small part of me wanted to ensure he wouldn’t get tired of me, so I thought some time apart would do us good.

I went back to the bar and had a good time with my friends. In true fashion, a half hour later, all but P made their way home to go to bed. It wasn’t even midnight yet. I told her all about CK and how amazing he was. I also told her about how I’d ended things with all the other guys. She kept asking things like, “Well, what about [X]? I thought you had a good date?” I explained to her that none of these guys were like my Superman. They didn’t measure up at all. She was impressed with my conviction and wished me luck, but she warned me not to get too far ahead of myself. P and I decided to go to another bar we enjoyed far more, Cooper’s Union, where we sit and chat while our favorite Hoboken bartender serves us.

Just as we were about to leave the bar, it started pouring. We agreed to call it a night instead. She hopped in a cab, and I made my way down the street home. I didn’t get far before I decided to run. I ripped off my soaking wet shirt and ran on my Cole Haans the dozen blocks home. When I got home, I texted CK to tell him about my “TV commercial-like sprint in the rain home.” (The Nike technology in Cole Haans really is amazing btw!). He responded back telling me how much he wished he’d seen me. He told me he was turned on by the mental picture. I achieved my goal. I knew exactly what I was doing when I sent that text to him. I wanted him to want me.

Sunday, I talked to CK, and we made plans for me to spend the night in the city. It made sense since he was so close to my office. I could bring clothes for work the next day and head straight there in the morning.

As the day progressed, the weather deteriorated. It was pouring. I made my way to his place around dinnertime soaked to the bone. I had my giant umbrella with me, but water-soaked my pants from the ground up. He stripped me of most of my clothes when I arrived, and we began fooling around immediately. This, of course, led to sex and some hot, sweaty fun.

I was happy to be spending a rainy night in with him. We had no plans and no obligations. We were simply going to cuddle in his apartment and watch something on his iPad. He offered to make me dinner, and I accepted. He told me his cooking abilities were limited, but he would whip up his specialty for me. I heard a lot going on in the kitchen while I sat in his living room. He wouldn’t let me help. He wanted to surprise me. When I came into the kitchen to give him a hug and kiss, I got my kiss but was ordered back to the couch.

Moments later, he brought me a plate full of salad with chunks of chicken and a tasty dressing. It was very good, and I enjoyed it thoroughly. That night, I would also learn of CK’s sweet tooth. We weren’t even done our salads before he was talking about dessert. He didn’t have anything in the apartment, but there was a bodega on the block. We would venture out into the rain to satisfy a craving for sweets. He offered for me to stay in the apartment and stay dry, but I insisted on coming with him.

We picked up Oreos, ice cream and some cheddar bread sticks and made our way back out into the rain. I was tempted the whole walk back to ask him to hold the umbrella while I ripped my shirt off and ran back to his apartment in the rain. The only thing that stopped me was that I’d have to stand in front of his doorman with no shirt on until he caught up, and I thought it might embarrass him. I chickened out! I was so disappointed in myself. I wanted to show him I didn’t take myself too seriously.

When we got back to his apartment, we dove into the ice cream and Oreos. He made each of us a bowl, and we cracked open the bread sticks. We sat in bed, and when we finished, we cuddled in front of his iPad watching Smash. Shortly thereafter, I dozed off in his arms. It was a perfect rainy night, and I truly looked forward to many others with him while I dreamed the night away.

The next morning, we fooled around before getting ready. While I showered, he made me a bowl of yogurt, fresh berries, honey and granola. It was delicious. He was really taking care of me.

Every moment made me fall for him more and more. We walked to my office together before he hopped on the subway, and I made my way inside. I was head over heels, and things were just starting. The possibilities were endless, and I planned to explore them all…

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The One I’ve Been Waiting For

Today is another Fast Forward Friday!!!  

Hope you are enjoying these. It will help bring the blog a little closer to real-time. If you’re keeping up with the stories chronologically, please skip down to this morning’s post first, then read this one. I think it’s a good one! Enjoy!

Never before have I prefaced an entry by giving away some of the details of what’s to follow, however, I’ve received numerous comments from readers tired of reading my “sex journal.”

“Your blog used to be interesting when it was about your relationship with your ex bfs, but it turned me off when it became a sex journal,” wrote one reader.

We’re both on the same page here. I dislike writing about these trysts as much as you dislike reading about them. It’s bad enough I’ve lived them once, let alone having to live them all over again when I write them.

So, without further ado, I am pleased to present you a love story…

On a Wednesday morning in April, while on my way to work, I happened to poke around on Grindr a bit. There was a message from an interesting guy on there. We began to chat a bit while I walked. He seemed pretty cool. I was about to head underground, so I quickly asked him for his phone number so we could continue the conversation on the other side.

We chatted a bit over text, and I came to learn a few things about him. I explained to him I wasn’t looking for sex, so if this was his motive, he should move on now. I was there purely for dates and friends. He seemed okay with that sentiment, and the conversation continued for a bit. I tried to check his spontaneity and asked if he would be interested in drinks that evening. He couldn’t because he had to work late. That’s when I learned he worked in advertising. I explained to him, if anyone understood working late for a pitch, it was I. I explained I too worked in advertising. When he told me he worked downtown, I started guessing what agency. Ironically enough, he worked for my previous agency. He worked closely with one of my favorite ex-coworkers. We were really hitting it off and I was excited to meet him. We agreed to make plans in the near future.

Wednesday evening, I was on my way home from a mediocre date. I fired up Grindr on the bus ride home and noticed he was on. I messaged him to say hi. He and asked what I was up to. When I told him I was on my way home from work, he responded, “You’re kidding me! Let’s f*ck.” My heart sank immediately. I had such high hopes for him. I was crushed. “You don’t know who you’re talking to do you? This is [O.G.A.A.T.],” I shot back. He admitted to confusing me with someone else and began damage control. I think he immediately realized he lost any shot of anything with me, however, he still took the time to apologize profusely.

If you know me at all, you know I give second chances out fairly often. I decided to lay on the guilt a little bit, but also give him the opportunity to redeem himself. As I got off the bus, I picked up the phone and called him. His timing caught me at a vulnerable moment. I was turning my dating life around. I told him what he did wasn’t cool. Again he apologized. I told him I would turn a blind eye this once for one reason; a few days prior, I probably would have said the same thing on Grindr. I couldn’t hold it against him when I too had treated Grindr in this way. He fully comprehended what I was saying and promised not to let me down.

The following day, I asked him if he would be interested in drinks Friday for happy hour. He immediately agreed that would be a great idea. When Friday arrived, we made more definitive plans. Since I was done work before he was, I offered to come down to his neighborhood. I just told him to text me when I should start walking down there, and he did. I texted him when I got the bar, but he was still working. I told him I’d hang out by the bar for a bit. I walked a block to Starbucks, got a coffee and wrote a blog post. I needed a kick in the a$$, considering it was a Friday night after a long week. When nearly an hour passed, my patience was at its end. This guy was not winning me over by any means. I was a block away from the PATH and very tempted to just leave. Just as I was closing my laptop, I got a text from him. He was on his way.

We met on the street in front of Employees Only. He’d never been before, so I led us inside to order a round of drinks and find a wall to lean against. He apologized for taking so long and explained what was going through his head. He was working on something late and told the editor they’d need to pick it up again on Monday. He’d already used up one of his chances with me. If he messed this one up, there’d be no redemption. I thought it was cute, and I loved his honesty. We talked about our jobs and our shared favorite coworker. I told him about my coworkers and how we’d be excellent fodder for a reality show. (I really work with a circus of a crew, but I love them!)

We were really hitting it off. Everything just felt so easy. He was also incredibly easy on the eyes. I felt I was a bit out of my league here. He was five years my senior, gorgeous, smart, witty, well spoken, had a solid job, etc. Basically, he was the full package. I already knew he had a healthy libido as well, so we’d probably be fine there.

After two rounds of drinks, he took the opportunity to kiss me. I can’t tell you how much I loved that kiss. He was a real man, and he kissed me. I was crazy swooning. We decided to make moves. In our conversation, I was talking about what I do in my free time and mentioned the pier I lounge on directly across from the Christopher Street pier. He suggested we take a walk out there before grabbing a bite to eat somewhere.

We walked holding hands to the end of the pier. He took my bag, set it on the ground with his own, and we walked to the railing. He stood facing the water and pulled me in, wrapping my arms around him. It was incredibly romantic. While we talked, I nuzzled his neck. Things were so easy with him. There was no drama. There were no games. There was just us. I couldn’t believe an hour earlier I was ready to abandon our date and go home.

He turned around and hiked himself up so he was sitting on the railing dangling over the river. I was between his legs with my arms wrapped around him while we chatted. I decided to tell him how new to the game I was and tell him my coming out story. I figured I might as well get that out of the way, because if it was going to scare him off, I figured it was better sooner rather than later since I’d already grown so attached to him. He was totally cool about it. This is also when I learned our age difference of five years. Obviously I was fine with that considering Smiles was nine years my senior. He was cool with that as well.

As we walked to find dinner, he told me about his coming out story. It was interesting and not all that different from mine. I learned he was bisexual through college, which actually was reassuring to me. I liked men that had experience with women as well. It wasn’t a necessary skill I needed to see them utilize. I just liked knowing they’d experienced women as well and realized they were more attracted to men. It also generally proved to produce more masculine men, which I’m far more attracted to. I also learned in that conversation he was a cancer survivor. I didn’t know how this guy could get any better. He was like Superman.

The date was off to an amazing start. We were walking hand-in-hand to find dinner somewhere, and I didn’t want the date to end. I was on cloud nine. I think I floated the whole way. We finally arrived at a spot I was quite familiar with, Frankies 570. So familiar, in fact, I’d been there a few days prior. The date was just beginning. I couldn’t wait for the next course…

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Southern Hospitality

After my lukewarm date with the doctor, I was ready to get back out there in search for a man.

I’m happy to report, which I’m sure some of you may have suspected otherwise, I was doing a great job of staying off Grindr. Granted, it was a short period of time, but I was thoroughly proud of myself. I felt like I’d joined GA. Every day not having meaningless sex was another day of Grindr sobriety.

Tuesday after work, I arranged another date with Southern Drawl. The last date was a bit crazy. Footsie under the table. Shenanigans in the bathroom. I was curious if he’d be able to behave this time or would he be looking for another quick trip to the bathroom.

We texted during the day to lock things down. I proposed The Breslin. I’d always loved their food, their drinks and their ambiance. He shot the idea down because he said the place was always full of hipsters. I had always been a fan of Sala 19 in the Flatiron District, so I proposed we go there for dinner. It worked out well because it was halfway between our offices. He agreed.

I had to wait at work for him to finish. When he did, I made my way south to meet him. I met him on the street corner, and we walked to the restaurant.

Dinner was very nice. He was well-behaved, and the conversation was good. I told him about my allergist appointment, and he told me about his day. We talked frankly about our last date. We discussed what went on. I learned he’d never done anything like that before. I was also learning about the guys he’d dated since living in New York City. When we originally spoke on the phone, I was under the impression he was new to the gay world. I thought he’d never really dated anyone before. Now, I was learning about all the guys he dated in NYC, as well as the guy he dated through college that he said I so strongly reminded him of and resembled. It was a bit unsettling.

In the middle of dinner, he told me he’d ended things with the guy he was seeing. He explained they’d only been seeing each other for two weeks, and things were never that strong. When I probed him to ask if he left the other guy because he met me or if he did it because he wasn’t satisfied with the previous guy, he told me it was the latter, but part of it was also due to meeting me. A big red flag went off in my head. Would he leave me for a better model?

I still wasn’t sure about him. I liked talking to him. I liked being with him. He was smart. He was nice. He wasn’t flamboyant, however, I wondered if maybe he was too “straight.” He was a bit homophobic. I’m not the most open about my sexuality. I’m not out to everyone at work. I don’t openly advertise my sexuality. However, if he wasn’t comfortable with himself, how could we be comfortable with each other. I couldn’t be sure about him. Was he right for me? I had no idea. Only more time could tell. I was keeping a distance as we moved forward. We had a connection, but was it strong enough to last? Was it what I wanted?

In our conversations, his southern entitlement shined through. It was an incredible turnoff. Where was the southern charm I’d seen so many times in movies. When I think of the ideal man, I think of Matthew McConaughey. He definitely has an ego and self-confidence, but he also exudes charm and sexuality. His confidence is not in your face, and he seems down-to-earth. Southern Drawl fit the other Hollywood archetype — The Southern plantation owner. He had an air or superiority that was hard to swallow. Many times, he laughed off these comments, making them seem like a joke, but I wondered if there was really something deep down that was more genuine. I wasn’t ready to date a snob. That $hit wouldn’t fly with me. I wasn’t going to let him get away with it, and I’d already started calling him on it.

When we finished eating, we split the bill and walked north to the PATH station. I said goodbye to him ont he street with barely a hug. He was uncomfortable exchanging a kiss with me in front of a city of strangers. I wasn’t thrilled by that.

On my ride home, I questioned why I was continuing to see Southern Drawl. He was definitely interested in me, and I was still intrigued by him. I wasn’t ready to write him off just yet, but I didn’t see a lot of promise or potential. I would continue to see other men and continue to see him until I was ready to make a definitive decision.

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Spring Break Flake

This is my 300th post! You guys have been amazing! Here’s to many more to come!

I was particularly excited about my staycation because I was going to get to see Boston again. We made very tentative plans for him to come down for at least part of the week because he was on spring break from school.

As we got closer to the visit, Boston went dark on me. It was pretty standard for him to not return my calls. The only time I ever got to chat with him live was when I called on a Friday night when he was pregaming before hitting the scene. I understood he was very busy. It was his final year in school, and he had a lot going on. On top of classes, he was searching for an internship. He was even looking at a few places in New York City. I was very excited at the prospect of him being nearby, but I wasn’t getting ahead of myself.

I was more than annoyed this time because I was expecting him to visit or to have me swing up to Boston. I had to use the time off. I thought it would be a good time to try to see him. I’m sure he is reading this right now ready to kill me. He probably thinks this is a bit of a guilt trip, and it is. But, it is also part of the bigger picture for my week off. I made no plans because I thought I had some plans. Granted, even if I didn’t have those plans with Boston, I probably would have been doing the same thing — Lounging on the pier, going to the gym and having sex.

In early March, I tried to see if he was still coming to visit. “Gaah. Haven’t even thought about it yet. I’ve been drowning in work. I’ll know by next Wednesday though. That’s when midterms are over.” After that, complete darkness. I didn’t hear from him for a few weeks. I angrily texted him from the pier one day, “You could just text me back you don’t want to/can’t come…” After my vacation had come and gone, he finally texted me back: “Just got my phone back today. Lost it over St. Patty’s Day weekend. Will call you later tonight. You gonna be around?” Of course I would never receive that phone call. I did understand though. He was in college. I tried to put myself in his shoes, and I realized I wouldn’t have come down to visit either, however, I would have told him I wasn’t coming.

After time passed, I playfully texted, “As much as you suck for bailing on me, ‘A$$ Grab’ is not gay. He just showed up to the bar with a girl.” Surprisingly, he quickly responded, “Means nothing. And I didn’t bail on you!” I wasn’t going to let him get away with that. “Um. Yes you did. Just sayin’,” I added. He was quick to note, “We never had plans and this break hasn’t been conducive to going to NYC and back.” I pointed out our tentative plans and his lack of communication in his inability to come. I also pointed out that even though he lost his phone, there are other ways to reach out to me. I also expressed my disappointment in not getting to see him. It was something I was really looking forward to. He responded back saying, “Alright. I’m sorry. Been in Vermont all weekend and all break I’ve just been busy working, so I’ve been flustered a bit.”

Again, I understood, and I fully forgave him. I wasn’t going to hold a grudge for that. Time off when you’re as busy as he is can be precious time. I kept myself busy taking admiring guys on the pier in the sun in Hoboken as you see in this post.

I depend on him more than I should. The problem is I don’t have any gay friends. When I have something I want to share, I feel like I’m putting some of my friends out by talking to them about it. They just can’t relate, and I’m sure they’re tired of hearing it from me. I turn to him because I know he’ll give me sound advice, but also because I have no one else. This post may come across like I’m bitter, but that’s not the case. I truly appreciate Boston and everything he’s done for me. He’s a good guy.

We still good friends, and he still ignores my phone calls. But, I’m sure all that will change when he’s finally graduated and eventually moves down to New York. Or at least I can hope, right?

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Chelsea Comes to Hoboken

My Friday off was certainly an eventful one. I spent the better portion of the afternoon planning and participating in my first real threesome. I was already starting to judge myself and question all my recent behavior. A large part of me knew this was not who I was. I was completely acting out, but another part of me realized these were my gay “formidable years.” I never hooked up with guys in college while all my male friends were taking girls home from the bar. This was my wild time. Basically, I was giving myself license to have emotionless sex for sport.

That being said, I was still searching for the guy who would get me off Grindr and be the reason to settle down. I’d already gone on one good date with Chelsea. He asked what my plans were for the evening. I told him I had none since I had the day off, and he asked if we could do something together. I didn’t feel like doing anything crazy or going out, so I requested a lazy night in and suggested he come to my place. “Cuddle night?” he replied. “Definitely,” I said.

I still felt a little disgusted with myself for my afternoon behavior, but I also hoped maybe he could help distract me. He would certainly be something to get my mind off it. I took all my sheets off my bed and threw them in the washing machine. I hopped in the shower once again. I needed a cleanse.

I texted him back and told him I would make us dinner, and we could watch a movie. He agreed that sounded like a great idea, but he told me he’d already eaten. I made myself something quick before he came over.

“Do I have to come back to NYC late by myself?” he added. I told him he could certainly spend the night. In fact, I would very much enjoy that. He tried to convince me to come into the city, but I wasn’t about to budge. I’d already done one date in his neighborhood. I didn’t want to go into the city that evening since I wasn’t already there for work. He painted a better picture of what I was asking him to do: “Mind you, I don’t even go see my friends in Brooklyn. So this better be scoring me some hefty points! Haha! LMAO. You can ask my friends how much of a NYC snob I am. I’m like who? What? Why? Do I need a passport? And does Jet Blue fly there?” I quickly responded, “This isn’t my first rodeo. You’re not the first guy I’ve stolen out of the city.” Every guy I’ve convinced to come over to Hoboken has fallen in love with it and become an advocate. I am slowly introducing the NYC gay community to the great city of Hoboken one gay at a time :).

He agreed to stay over, as long as we agreed to behave. I told him I had no problem with that, and I appreciated him wanting to take things slow. I was very surprised by this, considering we met on Grindr, and I learned he’d done the hookup thing more than a handful of times.

When he arrived, I got him some comfortable clothes to wear, and we settled in on the couch with a few refreshments. We went through the guide trying to find a movie to watch. Finally, we settled on Drive, with Ryan Gosling. We laid on the couch with him in my arms the entire film. It was nice to snuggle with a man. It was very romantic. We both thoroughly enjoyed the movie, and when it was over, it was decently late. We decided to head to bed.

I found it adorable he didn’t take his shorts and shirt off when we went to bed. I don’t exactly sleep naked, but I have a hard time sleeping with clothes on. I find them restricting. I stripped down to my boxer briefs and encouraged (playfully removed the shorts I lent him) him to get comfortable before spooning with him a little. He warned me about getting too fresh, but I told him to relax. “I’m just trying to cuddle, not rape you. Stop fussing,” I jokingly stated. He did relax, and we got into a comfortable spooning position before finally dozing off for the night.

That night, neither of us slept very well. He was a thrasher and constantly woke up. I didn’t mind too much because I didn’t have anything to do the next day but lounge around. It was nice change to be sharing my bed with such a sweet guy. This had potential, and we certainly weren’t rushing things…

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