Posts Tagged love
Let me first start off today’s post by apologizing for my extended absence. I’ve been quite busy as of late and have a lot going on in my life right now. I promise you I will make a more concerted effort to dedicate time to the blog. I am truly touched by those who reached out to me expressing both concern and unhappiness regarding the lack of posts. I will do my bet not to let you down. That being said, on with the show…
I’d been dating CK for 2.5 months. To some, that may seem like a long time. To others, it’s the lifespan of a fruit fly. For me, I didn’t see it as a definitive amount of time. I saw it as a period during which my relationship was growing and evolving. Over the course of that time, I was learning. I was learning a lot about CK and about myself. I was learning what it takes to be in a real relationship of substance. I was trying to do things the right way this time, however, there is no right way. You just make it work. I was struggling with trusting CK.
I was constantly aware of the medium in which we were introduced to each other, and I was relatively aware of CK’s past. They didn’t instill the greatest of confidence in me. On top of that, I was still carrying issues with me from the other men who hurt me. I’m sure, by now, you’re tired of hearing about that, but I can guarantee you weren’t as tired of carrying that around as I was.
I had a few suspicions. I chalked them up to my over-active imagination, and I managed to put them aside.
One thing CK and I differed on was gay friends. I didn’t really have too many of them in my posse. Sure, Boston always gave me sage advice, and one of my volleyball teammates I’d known since high school was gay, but it’s not even enough to field a full team. Since I didn’t have too many gay friends, I never did get some of the idiosyncrasies that came with them, such as calling my gay male friends gerrlll. It just wasn’t part of my vernacular. But, one slow day at work, I pulled out my headphones and watched The Adventures of Priscilla Queen of the Desert on HBOGo, and finally I got it. It made sense to me. I didn’t see myself throwing it around all the time, but I finally got the bond it signified.
Speaking of gay friends, one of the few I had was visiting New York that weekend. It’d been a long time since I last saw Boston. I was very excited anticipating his arrival. I hoped we could hang out while he was in town. We’d both gotten rather busy, and we found it hard to make sure we kept in touch. However, he wasn’t arriving until the weekend.
Friday morning, I woke up to the sound of CK’s alarm blasting while he laid sound asleep. I roused him to turn it off, and I was wide awake. I motivated us to get out of bed and toss around the medicine ball while watching TV and eating breakfast. When we finished, my blood was flowing, and I was feeling rather frisky. I attempted to seduce CK, and it worked. We had less than little time since we’d already leisurely worked out and ate, but I could tell he was also feeling frisky. I didn’t have to go to work because I had a random day off, but CK did. He conceded to having sex, but insisted I give him a ride to the PATH on my motorcycle before we continued. It was a deal.
With that, I pounced. There was little I enjoyed more than morning sex. I was almost always horny and raring to go first thing, but after working out, I certainly needed a release. We had GREAT sex that morning. It was passionate and rough and gentle in all the right ways. I couldn’t get enough, and I couldn’t keep my hands off him. As amazing as it was, the clock was ticking, and CK had a meeting to get to at work. We needed to stop. That certainly wasn’t an easy decision to make, but I knew it was the right thing to do. We hopped in the shower, and he finished getting ready for work.
When he was ready, I drove him to the PATH and kissed him goodbye. I sped home and finished myself off. It was all I could do to last that long. He really got me going, and like I said, I needed a release. After all the foreplay and sex with CK, the explosion was quite forceful and bountiful. It was a shame he wasn’t there to witness it.
CK texted me from work asking me if I wanted to see Magic Mike that night. I figured it’d be a really fun experience for us to go, so I was definitely in. What I wasn’t aware of was that he was planning to invite his old fling, Old News. I wasn’t thrilled with this idea, but I went with it because he was a friend. What I was thrilled with was Hip and Old News setting up a date, but when I learned that never really took off, I was disappointed. I didn’t really have anything against him. He was a nice guy, but he was a nice guy who happened to like my man. This was going to be part of growing for me. I needed to learn to trust him. But, it wasn’t really CK who I didn’t trust — It was Old News. In the few interactions I had with him, it was clear to me he wasn’t over CK yet. He wanted more, and I was clearly in the way of that. When CK opened up movie night to other friends, I did the same. I reached out to P to see if she wanted to join us, and I was thrilled to hear she would be joining us.
Before we went into the city to meet up with the other two, I prepped P. I asked her to do me a favor. I asked her to watch the interaction between CK and Old News. I wanted someone else’s perspective on the situation. I needed to know if it was just my imagination or something I needed to keep an eye on. She agreed to observe and report back.
P wasn’t the only one to whom I’d brought attention to my issue with Old News. CK knew I thought he still had a crush on him, but he was in denial. He didn’t agree with me. He pointed out the frank conversation they’d had in which CK explained to him extensively their friendship and nothing more. I wasn’t convinced, and that night, someone else would determine for me once and for all how to proceed with Old News.
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One weekday, CK and I woke at my apartment, and I dragged him out of bed to toss around the medicine ball while we watched TV before work. I was motivated and a bit stressed, so I wanted to work out. We talked about working together to get our bodies back in shape before summer ended. It was miraculous I got him out of bed so quickly.
The planets aligned for us on the TV too. His favorite talking head, Rachel Maddow, was on my favorite talking head’s show, Real Time with Bill Maher. That was something we could both agree on.
When we were done working out, I made us some very healthy and delicious eggs for breakfast, if I do say so myself. Of course, because of our morning workout, we were a little delayed. We showered and got dressed quickly. On the way to the PATH, I wanted to grab a coffee, but CK was running later than he’d liked. He protested, and when I saw a long line, I passed. When we passed a second Dunkin Donuts, I told him I wanted to swing through. He’d apparently had enough and said goodbye on the spot. He wasn’t going to wait for me, and rightfully so. Better judgment kicked in, and I accompanied him to the PATH instead, where we rode together to his stop and gave each other a kiss goodbye.
Not only was I motivated to get my body in shape but also motivated to get my career in shape. Work was evolving drastically for me. I’d just taken on a new role I created for myself after chatting with my boss a few weeks prior. I pointed out our missed opportunity in the social media department and described how I could fill the void. After all, I had some experience in the social world (even though I couldn’t exactly show him my “portfolio”). I thought this could be the ticket to my future. Finally, I found something I could turn into a career instead of a job that generated me a paycheck. Something more than where work was just something I did between my time off. It wasn’t going to be easy, and there were bound to be a lot of speed bumps. However, it wasn’t anything I couldn’t handle.
That morning, I was really thrown a curveball I wasn’t expecting. I was called in for my review, and it was less than stellar. I had anticipated this, and it’s the main reason I approached my boss with the social media proposition in the first place.
Just when I didn’t think it could get any worse, I learned my boss was altering his role at the company as well. He was taking a far less active role, and it didn’t bode well for me. My day was heading downhill fast. Little did I know, but it was about to turn kamikaze. Not only was my boss taking on a lesser role, but we were also merging with another company.
My heart was in my throat for the remainder of the day. My first reaction was fear. Would I be a redundancy? Would I be laid off? As much as this was just a job for me, I needed it very much. I couldn’t even bring myself to text CK or call my family. I was very afraid, ashamed, embarrassed, the list goes one…
After that day came to a close, I woke the next day with some clarity. My next reaction was motivation. The fear began to wane, and I realized I needed to put all my efforts into my new venture. It wasn’t easy to get there, however, it was much easier to get through with the support of my man. I’d told him everything that was going on. He talked me down off the ledge when I was worried I’d lose my job and made me feel much better about the situation.
The fear wasn’t completely gone, and I needed an outlet for my stress. The coworker who left to work at CK’s company asked us to meet her for happy hour at the Standard Biergarten. I had been texting CK that afternoon and asked him to join us. He was being cryptic about what he wanted to do, and told me he may have to work late. I could tell he wasn’t really feeling it, but I really wanted to introduce him to my coworkers. He missed her going away drinks a few weeks earlier, so when this opportunity finally rose again to meet my coworkers, I was pretty persistent. He wasn’t digging it. He had a long day, and he wanted to go home and relax. I was really disappointed, but I also understood. We made plans for him to come to my place for the night when I got home.
Shortly after hearing he was heading home, we decided to leave the biergarten. I tried calling and texting CK, but I got radio silence for two hours. I wasn’t quite sure what was going on, so I decided to lace up and head out for a run. I needed to clear my head and work on my body again. I still couldn’t figure out why he wasn’t responding to me at all.
After my run, I finally got a text telling me he was heading my way. I started to make dinner, and when he texted me asking for a ride, I decided to go radio silent. Sure, I know it was petty, but I was in the middle of making dinner. I also didn’t appreciate him not getting back me when we’d discussed I’d call him when I was heading home.
When he arrived all that no longer mattered. We were both in good spirits because we were there to hug and comfort each other. That’s what it really comes down to at the end of the day, literally. I loved him, and he made me happy.
We sat and ate dinner together, but when I put my hand on his thigh, I felt something sticky/slimy. I pointed it out to him, and he didn’t have an explanation for it. My overactive mind immediately went to work connecting dots. Was it lube? Was that where he was for the two hours I couldn’t get ahold of him? I could go on for hours.
In turn, I got quiet. I was deep in thought and wasn’t quite sure what to say. After we ate, we sat on the couch watching TV. After some time, I suggested we head to bed. I was exhausted, and my head was spinning, but he wasn’t tired. Of course, we both fell asleep on the couch, waking up around three o’clock in the morning, finally moving to my bed.
I tried to put all doubt out of my head. Worrying about it would do no good, and I realized I was making quite a bit of a leap. There was a bigger picture here. I loved him. I won’t say that I squashed all doubt in my mind, but I managed to push it deep down so it wouldn’t continue bubbling up…
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Monday morning, after a long Pride Weekend, CK and I woke in my bed. As per usual, I woke to the feeling of his lips pressing against mine. It was raining outside, and all I wanted to do was cuddle with him for the rest of the day. That wasn’t an option. Bills had to be paid, so money had to be made. We got out of bed and went through our morning routine.
I liked our morning routine. We’d hop in the shower together while listening to music and talking about what we had on our plates for the day. It started out as something fun and sexual, but it really turned into a bonding moment for us every day. I looked forward to our shower chats. On days we were both struggling, we’d simply lather up next to each other not saying a word, simply exchanging periodic gentle kisses. I’ve also never had such a clean back as I did since we started this.
After we showered, we got dressed and ate breakfast while watching Chelsea Lately. This had also become a part of the morning routine. Either I’d make some breakfast with the wonderful help of my sous chef, or we’d each pour ourselves a bowl of Reese’s Puffs, Kellogg’s, or some other cereal.
That morning, I wouldn’t be able to ride the PATH with CK. I had an allergy shot, so I had to say goodbye to him in front of the doctor’s office in the rain. I began missing him almost immediately.
Later that day, we chatted while at work. Since he’s my boyfriend, he knows all about the blog and is an avid readers. This particular day, he enjoyed the blog but had some critiques to deliver as well.
It was turning out to be the new norm for us. This was a typical day. When I finished work, I went to his place to spend the night. We were going to make dinner together, but he was constantly distracted by the television. I liked when making dinner was a team effort. I resented it a lot less. I pointed this out to him, but deep down I’d come to accept this about him. Cooking wasn’t his strong suit — It was mine. Whenever I made food for him, he greatly appreciated it, so in turn, I appreciated making it for him. I just didn’t want it to become my duty.
After our discussion, he came back to helping me while we both chatted with his new roommate who was sitting on the couch. I liked the new guy. He was very sane and likable, which is more than I could say for some of his other “roommates.” There was always a slew of people there, and they were quite the cast of characters. This guy was very normal and easy to have an intelligent conversation with.
Once dinner was prepared, we ate while watching TV and went to bed. I have always shot to be in bed around 11:30. As I get older, I find I need closer to eight hours of sleep. CK, on the other hand, had a harder time falling asleep at that hour. He needed a book or to watch Rachel Maddow or Game of Thrones on his iPad to fall asleep.
Our routine continued. Tuesdays after work, we went to yoga in the park. After yoga, we’d try to catch a free movie using my friends’ movie passes. Some nights we’d stay in and cook, and other nights, we’d have food delivered or burn up a Groupon or Living Social.
Some mornings we’d fool around before work, and sometimes, we’d have our romp between the sheets before bedtime. However, no matter what time it occurred, it was always great. Sure, we weren’t having sex as often as we did the first month we were together, but that certainly doesn’t mean it was lacking or of any lesser quality by any stretch of the imagination.
One night when he wasn’t feeling 100% and mentioned going to the doctor, I offered to go with him. As we discussed it, I began to tear up a bit. I started thinking about domestic partnership, and I got a little choked up and began to tear up. I never loved anyone before, but I truly loved this man. The thought of something serious happening to him and not being able to be with him because of legalities rocked me quite a bit. He consoled me in the way he does when I get overly emotional, and everything was fine again.
We slept together almost every night, whether in my bed or his, and woke up feeling secure and happy knowing the other was inches away. I found it hard to sleep when he wasn’t sleeping next to me. Some mornings, it was a real treat for me because I got to wake him up with a kiss.
It’s funny to write this and realize how much we sound like an old married couple. We found a routine and got very comfortable together. If it weren’t for things like circuit parties the weekend before, I’d say we may have become a very boring couple, however, I wouldn’t trade it for the world. Of course it was fun when we hung out with my friend and his friends, but nothing made me happier than just hanging out with my man. I loved him dearly, and he was everything I needed.
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Happy Labor Day everyone! Hope you have the day off and find something amazing
to do with your day! Find someone special to do some serious day seizing!
Summer may be ending, but the fun’s just beginning!
Soon, it will be time to snuggle up with that special someone on the couch with a warm blanket…
American Flag, cuddle, day off, end of summer, Gay, Homosexual, labor day, love
This year was the first time I was fully participating in Pride Weekend, and I have to say, it was certainly starting out to be an interesting one to say the least. Going into the weekend, I was petrified my relationship with CK wouldn’t survive. A lot of that due to the baggage I was still carrying around from my previous relationships. The guys from my past didn’t appreciate me, and I didn’t want to go through that again. That wasn’t helped by a few comments CK had made to me in full disclosure. Let me point out, he never gave me a reason not to trust him, however, he never gave me a reason to trust him either. It would take time, but eventually I would learn to trust him.
Overall, I had a good time at Matinee. I may not have been able to realize that at the time because I was so stressed throughout the night, but looking back from a relaxed state, I am able to recognize I was having a good time. When we got home that night, we had an even better time. I wasn’t entirely comfortable with everything that went on that night, but I was thrilled to be in the arms of the man I loved. We had amazing sex that night. It seemed to be a turning into a trend. Our sex life was indescribable. The passion was without parallel. We were both strong men, so tossing each other around came easy and provided fun and excitement. We even pulled out a reverse cowgirl or two. To put it succinctly, it was epic.
We slept in the following morning. We both had a long day. My exhaustion came at my own hand from mental anguish. CK’s exhaustion came more from hip gyrations on the dance floor. I was happy to relax for a bit with some light pillow talk. Before the weekend began, CK mentioned going to Alegria Sunday night. I told him right off the bat, I would not be able to do that. I had to go to work Monday morning, so that was not something I would participate in. Again, I didn’t really want him to go without me, but I wasn’t going to stop him.
We got a really slow start, and it took a long time for us to get out of the apartment. A part of me wanted to see the parade since I’d still never quite seen it before, but once again, I was going to miss it. In the big picture takeaway, I was alright with that as well. We walked from Hell’s Kitchen down to the Village to see what was still going on. Along the way, I spotted Hunter Parrish of Weeds fame coming out of Starbucks and pointed him out to CK. Once we got down to the Village, we came upon some of CK’s friends from Miami and stopped to chat with them for a bit. They were headed to Alegria that night and encouraged us to join them. CK turned to me and asked how I felt about the idea.
I was ready to kill him. The part of that interaction that bothered me the most was the hypocrisy. When I had done something of a similar fashion, CK was sure to point out how unfair that was and how uncomfortable it made him. Now, he was doing the same thing after we had a long conversation about avoiding putting each other in that exact situation. I gave him such a look. I think he picked up on it rather quickly and told them he wasn’t sure what we were doing yet. He told them he’d hit them up and try to go. They commented, “Yea… You’re not going to show up,” through a chuckle.
After that, we reached out to Hip to see how his day was going. The night before, he met a cute Aussie, and they were heading to the unofficial after-party at Work. CK and I were anxious to get the details on how the night went. He wasn’t far from us, so we stayed put while he made his way toward us. He greeted us with big hugs and began detailing his night. We were all feeling quite peckish, so we decided to grab a bite to eat a few blocks away. On the walk there, CK literally almost trampled an incognito
Matthew Broderick, looking quite disheveled I might add. We sat outside Cowgirl and ordered food while we talked and took in the sights passing us by. We were right at the end of the parade route, so it was quite the sh*tshow. Apparently, the day was also full of celebrity sightings. While we ate, Hip noticed Colin Farrell walking up the street away from the parade. This of course spurred a whole new conversation about Colin’s sexuality and prowess.
It was a fun day, and I couldn’t have thought of a better way to end Pride Weekend than with my boys. It was the perfect cherry on top to a long weekend. We had a gay ol’ time joking, laughing and judging the sh*t out of the people who passed by. I drank my fill of people watching while I chased it down with fried chicken.
Overall, I had a good time at all the Pride events. Granted, the weekend stressed me out so much I probably should have been put on anti-anxiety medication, but I still had a good time. I opened me up to trying similar experiences down the road I wouldn’t have before the weekend. I was slowly coming out of my shell and finally beginning to bear some of that gay pride, and it was only going to grow from there.
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The party was in full swing. Matinee had a huge turnout, and some of my suspicions were already confirmed. I was in for a long night.
As the evening progressed, CK ran into a handful of people he knew. I was very leery of many of these people because I assumed the majority were previous hookups and fellow circuit party enthusiasts. My guard was up. No one was going to make a move on my man without me having more than a few words to say. One previous hookup in particular was starting to weird me out. I would catch him staring at CK across the crowd, which turned me into a guard dog. I wasn’t going to let CK out of my sight.
I still had a lot of anxiety after he told me he didn’t go to the last circuit party because he wasn’t sure what might happen. It was honest, but it didn’t exactly instill confidence in me. I wasn’t holding it against him, because after all, he was forthcoming. But, that didn’t mean I wasn’t going to be hypersensitive.
Speaking of infidelity, out of the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of one of the newlyweds I’d met earlier in the night with his tongue down another man’s throat. I scanned the crowd for his husband, and he too was sucking face. My heart sank a little. I was so thrilled to have met a gay married couple because it is something I long for. But, judgment aside, after witnessing their definition of marriage, it brought the idea I would never find a man who shared my own definition of marriage back to the surface.
Since Hip was still recovering from hip replacement surgery, he needed periodic breaks from all the dancing. I can’t tell you how happy I was to have him there. Every time he took a break from the dance floor, I joined him. I needed a break as much as he did. While we stood on the sidelines, I complained, “When is this lozenge going to kick in!?” We chuckled a bit while watching CK search the crowd to try to find us until I finally got his attention.
Hip wasn’t the only other guy I knew there. I’d been texting with my ex, Broadway, who I am still friendly with. We rarely see each other anymore, but when we do, it’s completely platonic. I learned he’d be attending, so I suggested we at least take a minute to say hi. I also wanted to introduce him to CK so they could both put a face to the name. We managed to find each other in the crowd over the phone and exchanged a hug. He introduced me to the guy he was there with, and I introduced him to CK. It felt a little forced for some reason, so I didn’t dwell on the conversation, and we said goodbye.
As the night continued, I began to feel the effects of my lozenge. I was very happy because I mellowed me out. I was in a good state from there on out. That is until others in the group pulled out some of the stronger vices. It was my first time witnessing this. I don’t feel I’ve lead a sheltered life, but my friends and I just never put ourselves in those situations. I felt quite uncomfortable. A big part of that is the unknown — I knew very little about it. Another part of it stems from resentment. I feel a sense of, “Am I not enough that you feel the need to heighten the experience?”
I tried to turn a blind eye to it and get on with my night. CK really wanted to be there, and he really wanted me to have a good time. I wanted to give him that. I wanted him to see me enjoying myself, so that’s what I did. I worried about the things I could control and tried to forget the rest.
We danced and danced and danced. We had a really great time dancing. Natasha Bedingfield performed, and I even saw my favorite Twitter couple, @AustinWilde and @AnthyRomero. I pointed them out to CK, and he suggested I go say hi. I put myself in their shoes and refrained. They were there to have a good time, just as I was, and I didn’t want to bother them.
Another round of substances made a pass through the group, and once again, I was feeling on edge. This time I wasn’t as good at hiding my lack of comfort. CK was really good about checking in with me to make sure I was alright and having a good time. When I told him how my lozenge made me feel great, he chuckled and gave me a kiss.
The night was coming to a close. Sure, it was stressful as all hell, and when it was over, I felt incredibly relieved. Relieved and exhausted. It takes so much out of you to be so anxious for so long. But, looking back, I did have fun. After experiencing that and XL the night before, the next go around would be far less stressful. I would a least know what to expect. People began making their way back to the ferry to hit up more club parties in Manhattan. Before we left, CK and I snapped a few romantic pictures with the city skyline in the background. This part was easy. I could stop worrying and finally let myself be engulfed by the love I shared with CK. In the end, that was what mattered. When he was happy, I was happy. This was something he’d been looking forward to for months, and I hoped I delivered.
While we were away from the crowd, CK pulled me in to discuss our plans for the remainder of the night. Originally, we discussed going to Work (Peter Rauhofer was spinning) at Roseland, but to my surprise, he suggested another plan. “Baby, tonight’s been amazing! And I know Work’s gonna be off the hook, but if you’re game, I think we should go to a really exclusive after-party. Getting on the guest list is nearly impossible, but we’re on it.” Without another beat, he said, “Let’s go back to my place and make love till the sun rises. Words cannot express how welcome those words were.
When pointed out how I felt bad abandoning Hip, I suggested we get back to him. Of course, I was thrilled to learn he met an aussieMan on the dance floor who took quite a shining to him. They were having a great time together, and I couldn’t have been happier. While I loved having Hip there, I worried he felt like a third wheel with CK and I. That doesn’t go to say he should have. I loved having him there. To be honest, I don’t think I would have made it through the night without him. He is an amazing guy, and he really deserves an amazing man to make him happy. It also just so happened the aussieMan had an extra ticket to Work, so Hip became his plus one.
We all rode the ferry and the subway together until we reached Hell’s Kitchen. After an exchange of hugs, we parted ways. CK and I walked home blissfully hand-in-hand. CK may get a little bent out of shape when I say this, but that was my favorite part of the night. I was always happiest when it was just the two of us. True, we are both social beings and love being surrounded by people, but there’s nothing quite like some quality time with my man! I really did love him!
When we got home, we were both quite exhausted, however, we weren’t too exhausted to take advantage of each other before dozing off. But, that’s another story for another day…
@AnthyRomero, @AustinWilde, abandon, after-party, anxiety, anxious, Aussie, bent out of shape, blind eye, bliss, break, Broadway, chuckle, circuit party enthusiasts, city skyline, CK, Clark Kent, clubs, Coming Out, confidence, control, conversation, dance, Date, Dating, definition, exclusive, exhausted, expectations, extra ticket, ferry, forced conversation, forget, forthcoming, Friendship, Gay, Gay dating, gay marriage, gay sex, grindr, guard dog, guard up, heart sank, Hell's Kitchen, Hip, hip replacement surgery, Hoboken, Homosexual, honest, Hooking Up, hookups, husband, hypersensative, infidelity, introduce, judgment, kiss, leery, long night, love, lozenge, make love, Manhattan, Matinée, mellow, Natasha Bedingfield, New York, New York City, newlyweds, on edge, Peter Rauhofer, plans, platonic, plus one, quality time, relationship, relieved, resentment, romantic, Roseland, Sex, sheltered, sidelines, social, staring, stressful, subway, sucking face, sunrise, suspicions, third wheel, tongue, Twitter couple, uncomfortable, vices, weird me out, work, XL
CK and I had a fun afternoon promoting the circuit party we were attending that evening. When we got back to CK’s apartment, CK, Hip and I relaxed listening to music and chatting before getting ready, however we didn’t have all that much time before we needed to go to Governor’s Island for Matinee.
I watched from the sidelines while CK and Hip played dress up. My work in that arena was done. I had to decide what I was wearing the day before when I packed my bag for the weekend. I witnessed CK try on roughly 30 different permutations of outfits before he finally got every detail just the way he wanted. Meanwhile, I was stressing about how I could make my outfit gay enough so I wouldn’t stand out but normal enough to feel comfortable in my own skin. Hip didn’t have much work to do either. Originally, he wasn’t planning to go, so he pretty much had the clothes on his back with a few embellishments from CK.
I wasn’t thrilled with the shirt I originally chose, and the shirt I got from promoting seemed like it would work out well for me. Apparently, CK had the same thought. We were worried we’d look like twins, but Hip assured us it was cute. After carving up his own t-shirt, he insisted on taking a scissor to mine, but I asked him not to. He surmised that he had better judgment than I did, but I stood my ground. I wanted to go to this thing feeling like myself. I wasn’t going to change that just for some event.
Sure, I was trying to fit in, but I wanted to maintain some level of individuality. Of course, since I was already on edge, this started an unnecessary argument. I was shutting down. He was making me feel even more anxious about the night, and that was the last thing I needed. Things got pretty heated until he realized what was going on. I was going to add a few more cuts in my shirt, but I wasn’t going to wear the strands of fabric he turned his into.
We finally settled on attire and were headed to the bar knowing drinks would be expensive at Matinee. I wasn’t thrilled with POSH, the location choice, as Broadway always called it Poor Old Sad Homos. I didn’t want to hang out with a bunch of creepy old ‘mos, but I’d never been so I didn’t really protest. We had a quick round of drinks before venturing to Governor’s island.
We walked across the island of Manhattan until we found the right subway stop to get us downtown to the ferry. My anxiety was getting to me, and on the way to get cash from the ATM, CK and I had a small breakdown. He pulled me aside to make sure we were cool before we got on the ferry while Hip made himself scarce. He managed to reassure me everything was going to be all right, and we were going to have a great time. I kinda needed that to snap me out of it. I was getting into my head once again, causing all kinds of problems. Sometimes a vivid imagination can be a curse. After that, things were better, and CK and I were actually talking to Hip about how we discussed what a marriage between the two of us might be like, such as the wedding party. Hip was thrilled to hear he would be included in this.
After a quick ferry ride, we were there. We made our way through the line and posed for a picture as we entered the party. When I noticed a Grindr Pride sign, I insisted CK and I snap a picture in front of it. We’d been joking about contacting them to do a testimonial like eHarmony commercials.
This was it. I was making my circuit party debut. As we came around the bend, the festivities came into view. It was a sea of shirtless men. I may sound stupid for saying this (and I wasn’t the only one to think this), but when CK told me it was a “water park,” I was expecting a lot more water. I wasn’t expecting water slides or anything, but I wasn’t expecting the entire party to be on sand and dry land.
The first thing we did was head to the bar to get a drink, and boy did I need it. Of course, as we predicted, the drinks were not cheap. I immediately wished I brought more cash. While I knew there were be an abundance of illicit substances, I wasn’t planning to participate. (I’m probably going to come across like a complete goodie-two-shoes here). I was, however, planning to get pretty hammered to loosen me up. I wasn’t going to be closed-minded, and if I felt comfortable partaking, I would. That being said, I’d never done anything other than pot before, and I was already out of my element. I thought one anxiety-causing experience at a time was plenty.
Alcohol wasn’t going to be the only thing to get me through the night. My friend D supplied me with a lozenge from a medical facility in San Francisco after his last trip there. I didn’t quite have any use for it until that night. I thought it would be the perfect thing to mellow me out. He told me all the hang-ups, but the benefits seriously outweighed any of the possible negative effects.
I unwrapped my lozenge and waited for it to kick in. D told me to suck on half, and save the other half for later, especially since it was my first time, but half way through, I wasn’t feeling a thing. I kept sucking on it until there was nothing left.
In the meantime, I was dancing and trying to have a good time with Hip and CK. We met a lot of new people, including one couple that recently wed. I was thrilled to hear that, as they were the first married gay couple I’d met in person, but I’ll circle back to them later.
While CK and I were dancing, a cute young blond boy came up and started dancing with us. It was plain to see he was feeling some sort of high. CK was facing me, and the boy came up and started dancing up on his backside. I wasn’t thrilled with this, and my heart started pounding out of my chest. I tried to be cool and remain calm. I don’t know why I get so worked up about these things, but it’s like a trigger. CK wanted to open my mind and suggested I get in the center. I would later learn, he thought I might enjoy being the center of attention like that, however I explained to him that was the last thing I wanted. It started off innocent enough, but then the guy began thrusting himself against CK’s backside, and I nearly lost it. I wasn’t going to go off on the kid or anything, however, I wanted it to stop. I wanted it to stop NOW! I think CK got the hint from my face and gently shuffled the kid away. Minutes later, the kid came up behind me and started dancing against my backside, but I turned around and politely shook my head no and said, “Sorry.” I could see it in his eyes — This kid was in another world.
It was then I knew I was in for a long night. I wasn’t necessarily worried what CK would do. I was more worried what others would do with him. I had a feeling our definitions of what was acceptable differed. I was petrified of witnessing something he thought was innocent, and I thought unacceptable. Everyone was in an altered state, just as I suspected, and I wasn’t exactly from the “anything goes” camp many of the other attendees were a part of. I needed to find a way to calm down, or I was going to drive myself clinically insane…
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CK and I arrived home, and after a night of shirtless dancing together, we were both ready to get down and dirty. Our night out with Old News was a little disappointing and frustrating for me, but I put it all in perspective for myself. CK loved me, and he came home with me. He no longer lived in the same building as Old News, and I hoped they saw very little of each other when I wasn’t around. I had no reason not to trust CK with him. After all, it was he who told me about their failed plan to move in together when Old News professed his feelings for him. We’d only been on a handful of dates at the time, but he felt comfortable telling me about their brief history.
Anyway, back to the good stuff. Warning: The following may be too graphic for some. We were barely in the door before CK started pillaging my body. He was stripping my clothes from my body as we both moved toward the bed. I got him down to his briefs before he shoved me backward onto the bed. He pounced like a jungle cat, and we began to roll around on the bed furiously. We couldn’t keep our hands off each other. They were exploring every inch of the other’s body.
At first he was on top, and then I was on top. Our positions changed by the minute. Things were incredibly passionate, and what ensued was the best sex we’d had to date. It was raw and sexy, passionate and dirty. We were both enjoying ourselves immensely, climaxing in turn.
We laid next to each other as beads of sweat ran across our bodies. The sex was HOT! We were both exhausted since it was late, and we had a long night at the club. We passed out like rocks until the morning.
When we woke in the morning, we had a busy day ahead of ourselves. We got up, showered and made our way out the door. I was starving. While CK was on his cleanse, drinking a shake, I needed real food. Since I was watching what I ate, we stopped at Subway on the way to his friends’ apartment. I wasn’t exactly looking forward to this after the way his friend treated me, however, I was going to be the better man. I would kill him with kindness.
When we arrived, I got a tepid welcome from his friend. Hip, however, was thrilled to see me and gave me a big hug. We sat and chatted a bit about our plans for the rest of the day. Although his friend bought he and his boyfriend tickets to Matinee that evening, he decided not to go. Everyone else tried to convince him to come, to no avail. He wasn’t budging. Hip, on the other hand, wasn’t planning to go since it wasn’t that long ago he had hip replacement surgery. With some gentle prodding, we convinced him to join us. I was utterly thrilled. I needed a bit of a security blanket for this event. I was freaking out a little inside, and having another friend there would be key to my sanity. It also worked out for Hip and I because we were able to buy the unused tickets, but that’s another story for another time.
CK and I were on a schedule. Unbeknownst to me, CK had volunteered us to be a part of some street team for Matinee. I had no idea what he’d gotten us into. I already wasn’t entirely comfortable with the weekend ahead, and he wasn’t making it easier by surprising me with activities.
We made our way to Columbus Circle to meet up with a friend of a friend of someone he chatted with on Twitter. I still had no idea what we were doing, and CK wasn’t even waiting for me to cross the street. I stood on one side of the street watching him walk away completely oblivious to my lack of presence as he ran in front of cars talking on his phone. I was really starting to get annoyed. He wasn’t taking my feelings into consideration at all.
About 30 yards later, he realized I wasn’t there and finally turned around to look for me. By then, I was approaching him after the light changed. I don’t think my faced could have shown more apathy than it did in that moment. I asked him what we were doing and who we were looking for, and finally I got some answers, vague as they were. “We’re looking for a bunch of hot boys handing out flyers. We’re going to help hand out flyers or something,” he said. We searched all over Columbus Circle for these guys, even venturing underground to Equinox.
Finally, we managed to meet up with them. There was an adorably mismatched couple, a black diva and a Brooklyn hipster. While we waited for them to get their act in gear, I stood analyzing the couple. I was a little fascinated by them. They obviously both worked out a lot, but one was an energetic, tiny guy, and the other a soft-spoken, burly bear. I was very curious who was the top and who was the bottom, but I dared not ask.
Apparently, I was going to fully embrace the essence of pride. The plan was for us to canvas Hell’s Kitchen, handing out flyers to passersby while we made a ruckus to draw attention. We were outfitted with t-shirts, buttons, hats, large signs, water guns, flyers and more. I took a t-shirt and followed everyone else’s lead, customizing my shirt by ripping and tearing it. I felt very self-conscious, but I tried to embrace it. There was no getting out of this, so I needed to make the best of it. I took a large stack of flyers and started handing them out to every guy we passed and placed them on every surface I could.
Along the way, we made a few stops at stores and made some new friends. I was actually starting to have fun with my new street brigade. The burly bear still fascinated me. This wasn’t because I had a crush on him or anything. I’m just a people watcher, and I was noticing how shy this big beefy dude was. I also learned his boyfriend was one of the dancers on the stage the night before at XL. We stopped at Tagg to say hi to some guys selling apparel on the sidewalk in front of the store. They told us they had a free open bar and invited us to take advantage. I wasn’t ready to drink yet, but I thought maybe it might loosen me up.
We continued down Ninth Avenue, handing out flyers and stopping in more stores. While in Universal Gear, CK fell in love with a pair of booty shorts. The rest of the crew was ready to keep on keeping on, but in true fashion, CK was stopping to try them on. He decided he “absolutely NEEDED” to wear them to Matinee that night. Naturally. I went outside to hang with the rest of the crew while he stood in line to pay, telling them they could move on, and we’d catch up.
Eventually, CK emerged elated, and we were on our way. Hip joined us for the last leg of our journey. We had fun together, messing around until we reached our final stop.
I am delighted to say, I actually had a good time promoting. Normally, that sort of thing is my biggest nightmare. But, by embracing the experience fully, I was able to let go and have fun; I simply stopped caring!
When we finished our promotion journey, we made our way back to CK’s apartment to get ready. Little did I know what exactly that would entail, but I knew the night was only going to get crazier and more stressful from there.
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For weeks upon weeks, I stressed about Pride Weekend, and it finally arrived. CK wasn’t helping, and it exploded into an argument over the phone, culminating in a temper tantrum on my part.
We were finally able to come to an agreement, and I went back to packing a bag. Needless to say, I still wasn’t thrilled with the idea of the weekend ahead of me, but my nerves were slightly calmed after my chat with CK.
I made the voyage into the city to head to CK’s apartment. The plan was to head to XL that night. I’m not quite sure why, but none of CK’s friends were joining us that night. We had plans to hang with some of them the following day/night, but we were on our own for XL. I would have preferred to have more familiar faces around me in such an unfamiliar place, but that wouldn’t be the case. I got dressed with a little help from CK, but of course this turned into a bit of a heated discussion. Our nerves were very exposed, and he was encouraging me to expand my wardrobe comfort zone further than I was ready to. I wanted to fit in, but I still wanted to stay true to myself. I didn’t want to dress like everyone else there, however, I wanted to make sure I wouldn’t stand out.
As we walked there, I was very quiet. CK and I were holding hands as we walked the streets of Hell’s Kitchen, but all I could think about was how I could make myself feel comfortable in this foreign land. As we approached the entrance, there were gay men in every direction. I felt reasonably comfortable with my wardrobe choice and laughed to myself a little at some of the ridiculous outfits. I know this is going to come off as if I saw myself as better than them, but quite the opposite. I give them a lot of credit for feeling so comfortable in their own skin that they dress the way they do, but I could never pull it off. I would feel too uncomfortable and self-conscious, and then I’m absolutely no fun to be around. That was one of my main worries going into this weekend — I would feel uncomfortable, clam up, and I would be no fun to be with.
The cross-dressing boy checked our IDs, and we made our way inside to pay the cover charge. CK had some kind of VIP card and encouraged me to sign up for one with one of the boys holding iPads for just that thing. We paid, and I was a little shocked how expensive the cover was just to get in. Obviously, it was cheaper for CK since he was a member, but overall I was a little taken aback. I wasn’t aware of any talent performing that would justify the rate being so high.
As we made our way inside, I needed a drink bad! There were men in every direction, half without shirts on already. This wasn’t my kind of place. I liked the run-down pubs where the bartenders knew my name and they played good music. This, on the other hand, was a scene. We made our way to the bar and ordered drinks from a shirtless bartender who made me feel I needed to go to the gym immediately. I downed my first drink pretty quickly. The only way I would survive this would be with some help from some special spirits.
We made our way down to the dance-floor and started dancing and grinding with each other in front of the fog machine. I’m not sure why we didn’t relocate. At one point, I couldn’t breath, let alone see CK in front of me, and his back was pressed against my chest. Directly in front of me was a feast for the eyes. There were go-go boys dancing on the stage wearing very skimpy briefs. Some of the guys had the most gorgeous bodies with cute smiles, and it was hard to divert my attention at times. I even received a text from my old roommate asking me if I wanted to go out. I responded telling him where I was, and he jokingly responded reprimanding me for not inviting him. That’s when I responded with a picture message, to which he said, “Okay. Never mind. I’m good.”
I wasn’t the only one on his phone throughout the evening. CK was on his phone a lot when we were together, so this was nothing out of the ordinary, however, I wasn’t aware of the plans he was making over text. Minutes before he walked through the door, CK informed me the guy from his old building he used to hook up with would be joining us. Needless to say, I wasn’t happy. I can be very reasonable, but the idea of hanging out with one of CK’s old hookups didn’t thrill me. It also didn’t exactly seem on the up-and-up since he waited until he was walking through the front door to tell me he was joining us.
When he arrived, CK gave him, who we’ll call Old News, a big hug and a kiss on the cheek. He was thrilled to see him. I swallowed my pride and extended a hand to shake his. From then on, and for quite some time, CK and Old News were deep in conversation. I felt like a third wheel in my own relationship.
We began to make our way to the bar to get another round. CK and Old News walked ahead of me, and as I climbed the stairs, a guy extended his arm out to shove me out of his way as he passed me. It was so obvious my mind flashed back to my days on the basketball court in junior high. He wasn’t being subtle at all. He was also messing with the wrong guy at the wrong time. I wasn’t about to let this little sh*t get away with it. I was already on edge on so many levels. I gave him a solid shove back in the opposite direction, so much that he stumbled down a stair. When his glance came back up to meet mine, I looked at him in a way of saying, “Go ahead. Bring it! What you got?” Me being 6′ 2″ and him being about 5′ 7″, he immediately turned and walked the other way.
When I got to the bar, of course CK and Old News were ordering and didn’t quite notice I was lagging behind. I understand the need to catch up, but I felt I had no part in the conversation. After I was handed my drink, I felt so outside the conversation, I simply walked away and stood at the railing overlooking the dance-floor. It took CK quite some time to even notice I’d stepped away.
From then on, Old News was attached to us. When we went to the bathroom, he came. When we danced, the circle was opened up to him. I didn’t think we would ignore him for the rest of the night, but I felt like he always made sure to put himself between myself and CK. I was shocked and happy to say, I was actually having a great time with CK before he arrived. We were dancing shirtless and taking pictures in front of the fog machine and on stage. I finally felt comfortable in this new setting. I was no longer concerned with anyone else’s eyes on me. My only slight concern was CK’s eyes on anyone else. My whole mood went to sh*t the minute this intruder arrived. I wasn’t just dealing with being at the club anymore — I was having fun, but now I was back to being miserable again. I tried to be cordial with him, but I was not happy with his presence. He and CK hooked up at one point, and while CK assured me they were just friends, I was never quite sure Old News fully got that memo. I could tell he still had feelings for CK. He was very flirtatious, and took every opportunity to exclude me when possible.
In the middle of the night, a crazy drag queen named Ebonee Excell came out and performed. It was a welcome distraction. When the go-go boys came back out on stage, I recognized one of them from the Meet Me at the Ice Cream Truck music video.
Finally, our night was coming to an end. We were ready to head home. CK was hungry for sex, so we said our goodbyes to Old News and made our way back to CK’s bed. Old News may have garnered CK’s attention throughout the night, but in the end, I got to go home with him. He was my man! But, neither of us were quite expecting what was to come next…
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It had arrived. Although this would be my third year “participating,” I was legitimately scared. I wasn’t sure why it was so scary, but honestly, I was petrified for so many reasons.
My first interaction with Pride Weekend was a mistake. I was making my way to Governor’s Island for a polo match with my family when we found ourselves “stuck” in the parade route. The following year was the first year I was out when the weekend came around. It wasn’t pleasant as I witnessed my relationship crumble before my eyes like an out-of-body experience. I missed the parade that year, but I got a sampling of the other aspects of the festivities.
My fear was grounded mainly in the unknown. While I am a gay man, I do not participate in the typical gay culture. I’ve never been a big fan of gay clubs and what goes on there. I come from a background of a traditional relationship. In the gay world, that is like finding a diamond in the rough. The clubs seem to be the antithesis of this. They are a hot-bed of drugs, promiscuity and raunchy behavior. I know all gay men who go to bars don’t fit into this stereotype, but this stereotype is founded in truth. While I’ve been to a handful of gay clubs, and my comfort level was rising, I still had no idea what to expect. Never before had I been to a circuit party. I was venturing into the abyss, and this caused me incredible anxiety.
While I have learned to let go of the men in my past, I still carry the scars of my relationship with them. They’ve all hurt or used me in some way, shape or form. My biggest fear in life is being alone, and this fear is fed by thoughts of cheating, which is birthed from my baggage. The idea of CK with another man broke my heart. I had clear definitions of cheating, but there were worse things floating through my imagination — Like cheating in a form I feel is unfaithful, but the offender does not.
My relationship with CK was building a great foundation, however, the cement was still wet. We were only dating two months and ten days — Very young for any relationship. In the first month, I had strong suspicions I wasn’t the only man entering his bed. Things didn’t always line up and some of the clear indications were there, however, our relationship was still just forming. I knew there would be a transition period. While he told me he was only interested in me, and I was the only man entering his bed, I was aware how we met. I was also aware of his intentions before we even met through his first major slip-up on Grindr. I couldn’t expect monogamy from the first night — That wasn’t realistic.
While I was fairly understanding and looked the other way early on, I was not going to tolerate infidelity as our relationship progressed and strengthened. For starters, my heart wouldn’t be able to handle the pain, and lastly, it wasn’t safe for my health. I needed to trust him to be faithful. Outside the heartbreak, frankly, we were having unprotected sex. We’d been tested, but there are no guarantees. I trusted him with my life, literally, and if he was sleeping with other men, he was treating my life carelessly.
I sincerely had a feeling his intentions had evolved, but I couldn’t be sure how he would react when faced with temptation. I hoped I was the only man for him. As a result, I was petrified for the life of our relationship. I’d watched my relationship with N publicly combust the previous year, and I didn’t want a repeat.
I’m sure many of you reading think I am overreacting. It’s just a party… It’s just a parade… It’s just a weekend… Well, not to me. To me, it was a litmus test for the strength of my love for CK. I didn’t want that love to be tested, and I didn’t want to have to make a decision that could end my relationship with CK. He was my Superman. He was my world. If I lost him, my world would come crumbling down.
We had plans to go to a huge party at XL Friday night, Matinée circuit party Saturday, and the parade Sunday afternoon. I was venturing into this unknown abyss with faith and hope I could persevere. The thought of CK dropping X and losing control of his inhibitions with some other guy caused me great pain and panic attacks. The idea of another man’s hand groping his package caused me panic attacks. Picturing him dancing shirtless against another shirtless man caused me panic attacks. Every time these scenarios and many others entered my brain, my heart rate would increase drastically, I would start to sweat, and I would get light-headed.
All this added up to me being petrified and frustrated. When I asked CK what clothes I should pack to bring to his apartment for the weekend, and I didn’t get any cooperation or help. It all became overwhelming. To begin with, this wasn’t something I was looking forward to, and his lack of cooperation made me lose my sh*t. “Okay Babe. I’ll talk to you in the morning. Have fun tonight!” I said on the verge of tears as I hung up the phone on him.
I think that was the wake-up call CK needed. I don’t think he fully understood how much anxiety this all created for me. I voiced my frustrations for weeks leading up to Pride Weekend. I told him I was going out of my comfort zone, but I was willing to do it as long as I got some hand-holding. I needed help to get over this. It was just another fun weekend for him, but it was a big deal to me.
After a few minutes, he called me back. We discussed things a little more rationally, and CK’s tone changed. He finally realized I was struggling and tossed out the life-preserver. Now that I knew I had him in my corner, I was a little more relaxed, however, I still wasn’t completely comfortable. It was going to be a long, stressful and exhausting weekend both physically and emotionally. I bit down then and there, and braced for impact as I packed my bag and walked out the door.
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