Posts Tagged gchat
A Role Reversal
Posted by One Gay at a Time in Gay Dating on August 16, 2011
After all the drama between N and NC, I still hadn’t heard the end of it. These two really knew how to get under each other’s skin after one awkward hookup. I think it’s because they pretty much are the same person. I didn’t quite get it. But I also had nothing to do with it, so I didn’t need to get into it.
“I’m extremely p*ssed off at that prissy prick,” N typed to me. I told him he shouldn’t let it get to him. It’s over. He’s just one person. “I can’t stand him!” he replied. I tried to console him by telling him, “Well luckily you don’t have to deal with him anymore… You blocked him and he’s in another state.”
We changed the subject to talk about the night before. He asked how yoga was. I explained that yoga was cancelled, so I went out for the night. “Where’d you go? Get sh*t-faced? A date ?!?!?” he asked. I told him I just stayed in Hoboken, and I was trying to curb my drinking. “Gonna ignore the date question?” he replied. Quite frankly, I was ignoring the date question. It was none of his business. I recognized our situation and the heightened sensitivity, so I didn’t feel the need to get into it with him. Why did he need to know so badly if I was on a date. So I decided I was going to test the waters. I wasn’t on a date at all. I went to the movies with my good friend D. But, there was no reason I couldn’t insinuate a date. I wasn’t lying. I wanted to know where N’s head was at.
“Sorry… Didn’t see the question. I dunno what you’d call it,” I said, playing dumb. Then he decided to dig deeper: “Did you guys go out or did you go over his house?When I got home and turned my phone on I saw you were on Grindr. You were a # of ft. farther than your house.” Wow! Was he stalking me now? I know I did the same thing before, but I never let him know that until we broke up, and I used it as information to get him to tell me the truth about what he was doing and where he was going when we were still dating. “Are you Grindr stalking me?” I asked.
“R E L A X,” he answered. Trying to keep things light, I said, “Hahahah. That was said with a smile.” I have to admit, I was having a little fun here. We were broken up a week now, and I was enjoying witnessing him go through some of the same crap I went through weeks earlier. “When I’m home, you’re usually the first/second guy to show up from my favorites,” he said, trying to make an excuse for himself. I told him I didn’t go to his house, and I didn’t meet him on Grindr. I didn’t really appreciate all the comments he was making about me on Grindr lately, however. I know his sarcastic style, but he should have known how they would be received in our relationship’s climate. “You’re starting to make me sound like I’m a Grindr whore…” I stated.
Then he got defensive and said he never assumed we met on Grindr or went to his house. This is where the conversation started going downhill fast.
Me: But you asked if I went to his house…
N: So? You’re the one that told me you went to someone’s house the last face to face we had, so I asked.
Me: Haha. That wasn’t the last face to face we had. And I never said I went to someone’s house. And, if I recall you told me you went to someone’s house in the same conversation. Wait… Sorry. That was catty. Please ignore that. That has no relevance in this convo. Sorry.
N: Yeah, you can eventually be a catty c*nt when we’re further away from what we just went through and better best friends, but now — calm down the CCness. But don’t apologize.
Me: I don’t ever want to be a catty c*nt. Not who I am. I really didn’t mean that. I don’t know why I even brought it up. Just seems like you were asking a lot of ?s. So anyway… How was your last night?
Once again, I found myself trying to change the subject to something more neutral. It was frustrating we had to go through this every time we talked. I hoped desperately things would change, and we would get to a civil place. I wanted to be his friend. I liked his company and enjoyed spending time with him. He was a great guy to be around. But, he did a lot of sh*t to hurt me, and I would need to learn not to resent him if this was going to work. Hopefully, with time, it would.
He brought the conversation back to my night out: “So tell me about this guy… If we’re going to be friends…” I really didn’t want to tell him about it, even if I really did have a date. I said, “We’ll get there… We’re not there yet. Sorry.”
I asked him how his day was going, and he complained about his boss. “Other than that, a guy at the gym freaked me out by walking into my shower and me going to the front desk in a towel about it…” he said.
WHAT!? This could only happen to N. I never heard such stories from someone about the gym, especially in Hoboken. Was I that naive to the gay world. Was all this crap happening right under my nose? Or was this not the norm and something that happened only to people who provoked such behavior. I asked if he ever interacted with the guy before? “Maybe I looked at him while working out once? He was older and Spanish,” he responded. It was completely creepy. I’m learning more every day how often this sort of behavior happens, but it is still a complete turnoff for me. It made me quite glad I don’t make eye-contact at the gym and have never witnessed any behavior like that. “Your stories have made me never want to go to the downtown Hoboken gym again! I exclaimed. “I’d feel dirty just walking in the door.”
I told him I don’t quite get it. He didn’t really have a “gay air” about him, and it’s not that he wasn’t attractive. But still, how do they know he’s not straight and going to turn around and deck them. I feel I’m at least fairly attractive, and no one ever acted this way towards me. His response: “I guess I look at guys? Maybe he’s seen me on Grindr?”
At this point we both went to lunch, but later in the day, I got another message from him. “Thanks you tall ass bro you. Going on dates with boys…. Psssshaaa. LOL. JK. I’m being silly because I’m in a food coma.” REALLY!? Are we still really not over me going out with one guy. At least I knew where things stood, even if there never was a date to begin with. He was fired up for some reason, but he wasn’t explaining why. And then he did.
He typed, “Btw. I’m gonna send you a picture, and I don’t want you to respond to it. I just want you to know that I took offense to it. I’m not judging you or holding it against you.” Just then he sent me a passage from my blog. “Sorry I couldn’t do it for you, and you had to resort to your spank bank. And our sexual chemistry? Are you kidding me? I don’t want to talk about it. I’m over it.” He was insulted because I said we didn’t have a perfect sex-life.
I reminded him this was something we discussed earlier and suggested we discuss it again because he was reading it out of context. I said, “Things weren’t always perfect… We were 2 tops… Not easy for either of us to ‘take’ for example.” He interrupted me and asked that we not talk about it, but I wasn’t on board with that. He didn’t get to say his piece to me and then drop it. He had to let me explain. I told him it wasn’t fair. He jumped in and said, “Um…. What’s not fair is referring to our intimate relationship for all the world to read, regardless of not disclosing any personal name information.” I reminded him of our earlier conversation about this and how he didn’t care if I continued to write the blog. “At the time I said that I didn’t think you and I were going to be in the position we are now. Fine, continue,” he said.
I began again: “It takes time to build sexual chemistry. We were learning what turned each other on. We were exploring. The sex was good.” He asked me to try to explain the context of resorting to my “spank bank” to get me over my “final hump,” why we didn’t have “amazing sexual chemistry,” and how I thought he “felt the same way.” “All the while no less than one paragraph right before you go on to explain one of the best Os of my life,” he added.
I began once again, “Ok. The spank bank… We talked about this. You talked about thinking about the best porn that turned me on when we were hooking up. That’s what I was doing. When I was with you I was always there. Always in the moment. Did I have to think about how hot it would be if we hooked up in a locker room shower like I had seen in a porno sometimes? Yes. Yes I did. I don’t want you to think I wasn’t enjoying having sex with you. To be honest, if it wasn’t good, we prob wouldn’t have been having it nearly as often.”
He interrupted, “Well, I’ll tell you that’s the way you come off. And, I don’t really want to think about it anymore.”
I told him, “You’re taking offense to it, when it’s just the reality of beginning to have sex with a new person. You have to learn from each other and find what makes the other guy go crazy. That is all I meant by that comment. If I didn’t like having sex with you, do you think I would have tried to drag you to my room last week? That’s all I’m going to say about it… I just wanted you to let me explain.” He responded, “Thank you for explaining. This topic is closed from my perspective now.”
We talked some more, and I tossed out the idea of going out to dinner some night, just as friends. He responded well and said that would definitely be something he’d be interested in.
Of course, he didn’t bring my clothes over that night once again. Also, that night it was my turn to stalk him on Grindr. He wasn’t home like he said he was going to be. Later, I found out he went to dinner with a friend. He probably did something with his “friend” since he didn’t seem to come home according to Grindr, but that was no longer any of my concern. And it didn’t bother me one bit (other than I wanted my clothes back).
And me. What was I doing? For the first time in months, I went back on manroulette. I felt pathetic. How did I resolve myself to that site for so long. That would probably be the last time I visited the site, if even just for the sake of my ego.
Follow @onegayatatimePetty Games
Posted by One Gay at a Time in Gay Dating on August 12, 2011
On the Monday, following my trip to the Jersey Shore, I didn’t want much to do with N. I embarrassed myself the previous week by getting obliterated and trying to drag him to my room days after we broke up. And then, while in Belmar, we managed to create a situation once again. It was too much drama. I remembered the days I carried no drama. Those certainly were the days. I needed to find a way back to my drama-free days.
The night before, N texted me. I didn’t feel the need to respond, considering he wasn’t responding to me when I was asking him about coming to the beach. But come Monday morning, sure enough, I got a gChat message from him: “Morning. Did you ignore my texts on purpose.” Of course I did, but I wasn’t about to open up that door. I told him I was busy the night before. He responded, “It’s ok. I was worried you were very mad at me for Sat night.” Of course, I was over Saturday night. I cursed him out for it, we talked about it, and I moved on. I was still annoyed he never got back to me about the beach. “How come you never came to the beach?” He told me it was because his roommate didn’t get back until 2:00, so he hopped on the 3:30 train. “I didn’t feel like staying. I was tired,” he said. “And then you went dark,” I responded. Of course he couldn’t extend the common courtesy of telling me this information the day of.
Then he took the conversation where I didn’t think it was going to go. “Busy as in boy busy?!?!?” Where did he get off? There was no way he was asking out of the goodness of his heart because he wanted to ensure my happiness. And, of course I wasn’t about to tell him about my date, especially since it was a bad one. I didn’t need to open up that can of worms. So, I lied: “And no, I wasn’t boy busy… I was unpacking and repacking and getting ready for work. And, I was doing laundry and talking with my roommate.”
I tried to change the subject as fast as possible. “And I’m sorry again for the ‘f*ck you.’ ” He responded, “Don’t be. It’s not your fault I acted like a scum bag and did one or two things I shouldn’t have.” It was nice to hear him take responsibility for his actions. This was a definitive change. Maybe we could be friends after all.
Then I mentioned to him that NC noticed he deleted him on Facebook and blocked him on gChat. “Good for him. I could care less,” was his response. I apologized and told him not to shoot the messenger. I never should have gotten involved. I have no idea why I did. Then he went on to insult NC on a very low level. I understand he was angry, but he was delivering some low blows all over a few discrepancies in a hookup story.
Then, N said, “You should go ahead and let him know why.” I told him I wasn’t getting in the middle of it. That was a lie. I already got myself in the middle, but at this point I wanted out. More drama I did not need in my life. “I shouldnt have brought it up! I’m sorry.”
I tried to change the subject once again. This time to his roommate and the reason she came home so late. I also had a friend I wanted to set her up with. We talked about it a bit and finally found a topic of conversation to have a civil conversation.
Just when I thought we were finally moving forward. Finally moving on. Finally going to be friends, N went and ruined any progress we made. Tuesday I woke up to the text, “Morning! Sorry to interrupt your grinding this morning, lol, but I was thinking about something last night.” I happened to leave my Grindr on overnight. I do this periodically to cast out the net to see what I catch by the morning. I hadn’t even checked Grindr yet. “I just got out of the shower. What’s up?” I replied. I didn’t appreciate what he was insinuating, but I let it slide.
I wasn’t expecting what came next. “Our pictures and video together… LOL We’re making sure those are secure, right?” he asked. One night when we were hooking up, N turned on the camera on my computer. I explained to him that the video never saved and there was only one picture. I deleted it. “After I posted and tagged it on Facebook, of course,” I joked.
We were done with that line of conversation, so I decided to check my Grindr messages. I text N back telling him he has a doppelganger on grindr. “Who? Send me the link. I’ll be online in 5.” When I got to work, he was asking me all about his doppelganger. I described him, “He’s near Hoboken. Name is M. He’s 21 so he looks like your little brother.”
Over lunch, I went to the gym. As I was coming back out to the street, I saw a text from N: “Is this M?” He sent me a screengrab of a man’s chest. N is latino. I laughed and responded, “Nope! That looks nothing like you. He’s a white dude. M has a face pic and is 21.”
Then he made another comment referencing myself and Grindr. “Oh, I didn’t know you were that versed in the men on Grindr. Guess you’ve spoken with him before.” This time I wasn’t going to let it slide. Not two days in a row. This isn’t the kind of friendship I was seeking. He wasn’t going to undercut me and I would just sit by and take it. “Don’t be an as$hole!” Apparently he didn’t think he said anything out of line because his response was, “Uggghhmmmmmm, okay. LOL.”
I went off: “Not that I need to explain myself to you, but I’ve never spoken to him. He popped up on my screen last night, and I thought it was funny that he looked like you… that’s all.” And then he made it worse by insinuating I was overreacting. And maybe I was a little bit, but he had to know this was a sensitive time. We were just beginning to navigate a new friendship. “Wow! Sorry I said anything!”
I needed to defend myself. “Your comment had a lot of undertones I don’t appreciate.” He retorted, “My comment was a joke. I’m sarcastic. You know this. Sorry I said anything about it to you.” I wasn’t going to let him act like I was the one out of line. Again, the drama was starting, and I wanted no part of it! “It’s fine,” I responded.
If this was the type of friendship N wanted, then I wasn’t on-board. I didn’t need him in my life if all he was going to do was cause me headaches. I really had a good time hanging out with him when we were dating, but he’d need to learn how to be a real friend if this was going to work. None of my other friends treated me htis way, and I’ll be damned if I’m going to let him.
Follow @onegayatatimeWhat Do You Want From This?
Posted by One Gay at a Time in Gay Dating on July 27, 2011
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.
Follow @onegayatatimeMaking It Work
Posted by One Gay at a Time in Gay Dating on May 31, 2011
When I got home from my business trip San Francisco, I was still reeling from my time with the man I met there. I couldn’t stop thinking about him and how close we grew in a matter of hours. From the moment I touched down in New Jersey, we were texting or talking on the phone. I couldn’t get enough of him.
I knew in my head it was crazy. We were on completely opposite coasts of the U.S. — Three time zones away. Him, a 34 year-old from Hawaii, and me, a 27 year-old from Pennsylvania. There were so many reasons why anything between us wouldn’t work.
But, at the time, I had no love interests in my life. There were a few adam4adam.com guys I talked to and set up dates (4 set up in 4 days), but who knew if the connections would be so strong. Subsequently, I compared every date to my first date with San Francisco.
I decided to send him flowers that Monday. I never sent anyone flowers before, let alone a man. But, I was a stranger visiting a city I’d never been to before, and he welcomed me in with open arms… and then some.
When the florist delivered them to his office, coworkers saw and flocked to his office to ask who they were from. He read the card that said, “I left a piece of my heart in San Francisco. Take care of it until I get back.” One of his coworkers wandered in and said, “Wow! Big night this weekend?”
San Francisco replied, “You actually met him. He’s the guy from the bar on Wednesday.” His coworker was impressed.
He called immediately to thank me. I could hear his smile in his voice as we spoke on the phone. He was so happy, and I was so happy he was getting all the attention of his coworkers. It was my main goal to make him the center of attention and realize how loved he was.
We talked every night since I left. He would call when he finished work, and we would talk for hours. That night, after telling him how much I missed him, I told him I wanted to try to make it work. I couldn’t believe how strong our connection was, and I had to at least put in the effort to know if this relationship had two legs to stand on. I think he was touched, and fully dove in head first with me on the venture.
Over the next few nights, I taught him how to skype. We could now see each other as we talked. Eventually, we began watching TV together. Since we shared such a connection over Brothers & Sisters, every Monday night, we would watch that week’s episode together. Anything we could do to make it a stronger relationship. We became Facebook friends, and I also taught him about gchat, so we could talk at work throughout the day. I got a text every morning saying, “Good morning.” And however we ended the day, I would get a, “Sweet dreams.”
We were both happy. The distance was a burden, but we were managing.
We started planning a trip for him to come visit New York. He lived here for 10 years. He had a lot of friends here he hadn’t seen in three years. In my head, he would come visit in May, and come June, I would trek out there again, this time for pleasure. If these trips worked out, there was no stopping us. But we would cross those bridges as they came.
I didn’t know what this was. We put no label on it. But I knew he made me happy. That was all that mattered to me. And, I couldn’t wait for his arrival!