Posts Tagged New year’s Day

Breakfast 2.0

I continued my walk of shame north on Seventh Avenue. I was still dressed for a night out from New Year’s Eve the night before. I didn’t care if anyone judged me. I was in my own world. No one else existed that morning. I was utterly alone in a city of millions.

I continued to try to reach Boston through text and by phone, but no dice. Since I was going to be near his apartment, I thought I would reach out to Broadway. At the very least, I could kill time with a visit until Boston finally decided to get back to me. I called him, and he picked up after a few rings. I asked him what he was up to and told him I wanted to swing by for a visit. He was still in bed and said he needed a few minutes, but he told me to come by. I told him I was walking from the 20s, so there was no rush for him to get out of bed.

When I arrived, I walked right up to his apartment. It was like old times — A blast from the past. It’d been months since I’d been there, but it felt like yesterday. I knocked on the door, and he greeted me. I came in and sat while he finished getting ready for the day. We sat on the couch, and he asked how my New Years was. “Tell me stories. You always have good stories to tell me,” he added. I told him what I did the night before. I gave him the cliff notes because I didn’t want to belabor the point. The wound was still fresh and bleeding. He shrugged it off and suggested we go to the diner for breakfast. I kinda loved that about him. He knew how I felt about it, so he did his best to brush it under the rug.

I agreed to go to breakfast, but I told him I’d already eaten. I would keep him company, and we could catch up. It’d been since the summer since I’d seen him.

Breakfast was nice. He told me about the party he went to the night before and all the guys he was pursuing. As usual, he was very passive about it. “I dunno if I really want to see him again…” he’d say. He’d find something completely superficial to judge the guy about so he wouldn’t have to put in the effort.

Since Smiles’ birthday gathering, we gained a mutual friend. We learned this from Facebook. The guy who I palled around for the night had been at the party Broadway went to the night before. They interacted, but it wasn’t a positive interaction. Broadway was remotely interested in this guy, but apparently he gave him the cold shoulder. This really turned him off, but I assured him my birthday buddy was a really great guy. If I’d been single that night, I probably would have asked him for his number. Broadway wasn’t sold.

Ironically enough, Smiles and I were almost at this party. It wasn’t until Smiles learned of the over-priced charge to enter that he decided we were just going to the house party. It was crazy to realize Broadway, Smiles and I were all swimming in the same circles in New York City. Apparently the gay community was pretty tight, even in a big city. It put it all into perspective. It also made me realize the picture of myself I painted when I let a stranger suck on my neck and face in front of the guy I was dating.

I wasn’t feeling very talkative, so I did a lot of question asking and listening. When Broadway finished his breakfast, he asked for the check. He wasn’t feeling well, so he wanted to go back to bed. I checked my phone, and Boston still hadn’t gotten back to me. I guess I wouldn’t see him before he left the city.

I walked Broadway back to his apartment and said goodbye. Something I learned from him was it is okay to kiss an ex on the lips when you see them. When I first came out, I was fascinated by how often gay men kissed each other. This was completely foreign to me and not something I was comfortable with. Even if I travel in a big gay pack, I don’t think I would be kissing my gay male friends. But, I felt comfortable kissing a man who I had kissed over a hundred times. So we exchanged a kiss and a hearty hug before I made my way to Port Authority to snag a bus back to Hoboken.

While I walked to the bus, I texted Smiles: “Since I have the day off tomorrow, can we do something fun?” I was hoping I could do some damage control and get us back on a happy track.

It wasn’t long before I received a simple text in response: “I have to work tomorrow.” I was already picturing a Monday afternoon with me sinking deep into the couch by myself in front of the TV. I was very disappointed, but it’s not like I had anything to say. I was the one who royally messed up here. I was going to have to deal with the consequences.

Later that evening, I talked to Boston on Facebook. I told him what I did and how things played out. We didn’t talk long, but promised to come back to the topic when he had more time.

I had time all day to assess the situation. Why wasn’t Smiles mad? I realized I wasn’t happy about this. It hurt even more. It showed me quite clearly how little I meant to him. I didn’t see any way to recover from this. I was pretty sure our relationship was over. And, since I’m pretty much a high schooler in the gay dating world, I hopped back on adam4adam.com and Grindr that night to see what was out there. I wasn’t throwing my line into the sea, but I could at least swim around and see what kind of fish were out there…

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The Fog Lifts

New Year’s Day, Smiles woke me in the morning. I was in a complete fog. I immediately began wracking my brain to remember how the night ended. I knew we had sex, and once again, I could only remember a tiny flash of the intimate moment we shared the night before but no more than a flash. I could remember being p*ssed at Smiles on the walk home for walking five paces in front of me. And, I could remember smoking on the balcony.

I had now realized I completely wiped my phone, so anyone who texted the night before would certainly not be receiving a response from me.

Smiles was up and about walking around the apartment. I searched the room for my briefs, but couldn’t locate them. He came in the room and retrieved them for me from deep within the sheets. I had a massive headache, so he gave me some pain killers and water. It was sweet of him to take care of me in my still inebriated/hungover state. I asked Smiles about leaving the party, and he recounted the details for me. It was clear he wasn’t thrilled about it, but he also wasn’t holding it against me. The he uttered, “And I haven’t even gotten to the fun part yet!” he added.

He was going to leave it at that. I told him he couldn’t do that to me. He had to tell me what else I did. He asked if I really wanted to know, and I insisted. This is the “fun” part:

Apparently, the advances made by the guy on the balcony didn’t end there. Clearly he was persistent, and clearly I was vulnerable and well intoxicated. Smiles recounted a scene for me that drained all the blood from my face. “[The guy who sang my praises to Smiles] came up to me and asked me if you were okay. When I told him you were fine, he replied, ‘Are you sure? Because he’s making out with someone else on the couch.” I nearly passed out. I couldn’t believe it. Was I really capable of that? Could I really do that to another person after witnessing N do that to me? Was I that heartless?

I racked my brain trying to remember any bit of a make-out session on the couch. A vague image came to mind of this man kissing all over my neck. I remember asking him to stop, but also couldn’t remember putting up a strong fight. I’m not sure if my mind was making this up or if it was reality. Either way, my actions were deplorable.

I froze. I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know what to say. I couldn’t believe he was still speaking to me. I couldn’t believe he still had sex with me that night after that. I was mortified. What was going on? My head was spinning!

“What did you do? Did you come over and stop it?” I asked. He shook his head no.

“[Smiles], I don’t know how to apologize for that. I can’t believe I did that! I can’t believe your still speaking to me right now. I can’t believe you didn’t leave me there. I don’t have words for how sorry I am. I don’t remember any of that. At all!” I plead.

“It’s okay. You were drunk. It was New Year’s Eve. Don’t worry about it,” he said.

Don’t worry about it!? I made out with another guy in front of you, and you tell me don’t worry about it?! Should I be happy you’re not that upset about it, or should I be even more hurt that you’re not phased by it. “I still don’t know what to say. I can’t believe I did that,” I added. He just looked back at me with a face that said, “Yeah. You did that.” I wanted to slither away into darkness and forget the world.

We continued to get ready for brunch and walked out the door. As we walked, all I could think about was how disrespectful I was to the man I’d grown so fondly of. Sure we had our moments where I questioned our relationship, but what I did was unforgivable. I would not have been able to forgive myself for what I did. When N did it to me, it signaled the end of our relationship.

I did this in front of his friends — Many of which I told I was dating Smiles. I made myself look like a complete whore, and I made Smiles look like a fool. The man who was singing my praises was the man who witnessed my greatest downfall. This was one of the worst things I’ve ever done in my life, and there was no making up for it and no undoing it.

I continued to tell Smiles how bad I felt about the whole thing. He was trying to make conversation and ignore the subject, but it was all my mind could fixate on. “It’s fine. Stop worrying about it,” he kept saying. We ate breakfast and talked about a few things I can’t recall because my mind was completely elsewhere. I was crushed. I almost had to leave the restaurant, Extra Virgin — His favorite restaurant, so I could go outside and cry.

It was a gorgeous day, and Smiles told me he wanted to go for a bike ride. He asked what I had planned for the day. I couldn’t think. I had no plans. I was hoping to spend the day with Smiles, but clearly that wasn’t an option. I decided I was going to try to meet Boston before he left the city, even if it was at the bus stop. I had to tell him what I did. I knew he wouldn’t look favorably on me, but I also knew he wouldn’t judge me. I left Smiles with a kiss as he walked south, and I turned and walked north. I decided to walk off my disgrace.

As I pounded the pavement from 11th street to 43rd, I tried reaching Boston. He wasn’t answering the nearly twenty-five calls I made to him. I needed him. I needed someone to talk to. I decided to hit up my roommate and see what she was doing. Maybe we could curl up on the couch and watch a movie to help make the day pass by. I talked to her for a bit, but she had plans. I couldn’t bring myself to tell here what I did. I was too ashamed. I would tell her later.

I decided to call Smiles during my walk. I wanted to make sure he knew how broken up I was about it if we were to survive this. I reiterated how bad I felt and how wrong I was as I tried to choke back tears and a vocal quiver. “Listen. It’s okay. It’s in the past. It was New Year’s Eve. You were drunk. That was 2011. This is 2012. Don’t worry about it. It’s alright,” he assured me. I think he realized how upset this made me, and that was all I could do. My fate was in his hands…

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To Kiss or Be Kissed

Goodbye 2011 and all the hardship that came with it. 2011 was a tough year, and I was ready to kiss it bon voyage.

New Year’s Eve had arrived, and so did Boston. He came to New York City to celebrate with some friends. They were staying at a hotel in Hell’s Kitchen and going to a bar to ring in the new year. We’d been in close contact about meeting up while he was visiting for some time.

We made plans to meet that night before I met Smiles for dinner, however these plans would be broken. As the night’s close grew nearer, Boston realized he wouldn’t have time, so we agreed to try to meet on New Year’s Day.

Instead, I killed time spying on my neighbors across the street with my roommate before venturing into the city for the night. It appeared we’d discovered two ‘mos living over there after some close examination. However, their blinds have been drawn now for quite some time, hindering further “study.”

Smiles and I had been texting about our plan for the evening. We were going to grab dinner somewhere along the way to the party on the Lower East Side, but when he tried to make a reservation for the restaurant downstairs, he realized the difficulty that may pose. Instead he proposed to make beef stroganoff for the two of us at his apartment. I wasn’t thrilled with the idea because I was looking forward to a romantic dinner for two, but it would have to suffice. (Now you can begin to see why I hate New Years).

After we finished eating, we took a cab to the apartment. Smiles spent a good portion of it on the phone with his mother. I’d already made all my new year’s calls on the walk to Smiles’ apartment from the PATH. I didn’t want to be on my phone the rest of the night trying to call people so I got it out of the way before starting our night together. I thought what he was doing was rude. When he hung up, you could cut the tension in the cab with a knife. Neither of us had anything to talk about. The night was not off to a good start.

We arrived at the party and were greeted by a very nice gentleman who was not the host. He was one of the guys Smiles had gone to Six Flags months earlier (whom he didn’t remember without a reminder). A trip I wasn’t invited on and still bitter about. When the host emerged from the shower, Smiles volunteered to run to the corner store to get necessary supplies. Apparently he wasn’t the best of hosts (or so said Smiles). He asked if I wanted to join him or stay and made sure I was okay with staying.

I took the opportunity to get to know the guy who greeted us while I waited for Smiles to return and more guests to arrive. More people joined us in waves, and it was a pleasure to meet them all. I sat on the couch talking to one in particular for some time. He seemed like a really great guy. Later in the night, I would learn from Smiles that this guy told him how great I was after learning we were together. “He had nothing but glowing praises for you,” Smiles divulged.

A majority of the night, Smiles wasn’t paying attention to me. He was far more concerned with standing in as host. He made sure everyone had a full drink at all times, including me. I had to tell him to cool it because I was getting too drunk too fast. I don’t think he realized I was also filling my own drinks besides what he brought me. I was making plenty of conversation with a lot of the other guys at the party in the meantime. Ironically enough, we were talking about dating. I was giving some of the younger guys my “fatherly advice” from my experiences, which is absurd considering I’m out less than two years. I did all this without mentioning my blog once, no matter how much I wanted to direct them to it. Smiles was still unaware I was writing OneGayAtATime.

When the ball was about to drop, the whole crowd gathered around the TV in the host’s bedroom. Smiles asked if I wanted to pile in, but I told him my lack of interest in watching the ball drop. We huddled by the door as Smiles snapped pictures of the group from the doorway. When 2012 arrived, he turned to me and laid a nice kiss on me. When he pulled back, he went in a second time. It was one of his better kisses and it was sweet, but I’m not sure it could make up for the lack of attention I received all night. It was like we were at the same party, but we certainly weren’t together.

As I talked to the other guys, I felt like I was revealing a big secret that Smiles and I were dating. No one knew, and it was as if I was letting the cat out of the bag. I felt uncomfortable about that.

The music came up and the furniture was pushed aside. The living room was now a dance floor. Smiles and I have never gone out dancing together, so I was relishing the opportunity to have a little fun with him. I started dancing with him, and he started laughing at me. It wasn’t completely insulting, but it was also a slightly belittling. I think I was making him uncomfortable (and I am not a bad dancer by any means!).

When I went to refill my drink, Smiles was in the middle of the group dancing up a storm just as I’d seen him bust a move in Central Park. I was hurt. He didn’t want to dance with me, but he did want to dance with everyone else. When I looked down, my cup had only ice in it. So I made the conscious decision to drink away my sorrows. Johnny Walker Black and I huddled in the kitchen and had a good time together.

When someone asked if I wanted to go smoke on the balcony, I jumped at the opportunity. When I got out there, there was a small group including the guy who told Smiles how great I was.

This is where the night gets foggy. There was a guy who was late to the party who was fawning all over me from that point on. He told me I was gorgeous and paid me more compliments than I can remember. I vaguely remember pointing out to him that I was dating Smiles, but that didn’t stop him. He kept laying it on thick.

From that night, the next thing I remember was walking home behind him p*ssed because I was chasing after him. We weren’t walking together. I was walking about ten paces behind him.

Smiles woke me in the morning. I was naked, so I knew we had sex, and I had an uncomfortable moist feeling between my cheeks, so I knew I was the bottom. I thought back and could remember flashes of sex from the night before, but I couldn’t remember anything about leaving the party.

After I searched for my underwear and my dignity, neither of which I could find without assistance, I picked up my phone to check messages. Apparently in my drunken stupor, I wiped out my phone trying to get into it too many times with a failed password. It was back to factory settings.

I told Smiles, and he recounted the walk home. It involved me arguing profusely that we were headed in the wrong direction (Isn’t that ironic). It involved me tapping a French woman on the shoulder and welcoming her to the country. And it involved Smiles being annoyed by my antics.

“And I haven’t even gotten to the fun part yet!” he added.

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