Posts Tagged Pride Weekend
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.
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.
The next morning, I woke up early to work out with CK in his rooftop gym. It was our first time up there, and we were finally going to workout together, or at least we both thought so. It turned out, we had different ideas of working out. While CK was on his cleanse, I too was trying to lose weight. That was only going to happen for me if I did cardio workouts. Lifting wasn’t going to help me shed any pounds, and that was the priority over bulking up. He wasn’t willing to join me for cardio, and I wasn’t willing to lift, so we worked out at the same time on opposite ends of the gym. When he finished, I was nearly done my three-mile run, sweating profusely from head to toe. I wanted to take off my shirt and use it as a sweat rag, but I wasn’t sure if that was P.C. in his gym, and there were others working out as well. When I finished, we rode the elevator back down to his place so we could shower and get ready for work.
As per usual, we showered together. This had become a regular thing for us. We rarely showered alone anymore. We weren’t always making out or having sex in there: It just seemed a better use of both our time to shower together. We were beginning to work out a system between us. Our routine was falling into place.
The one thing I slightly resented when sleeping over at his apartment was the lack of breakfast. It was getting expensive for me to continuously purchase breakfast every time I slept there. I made sure to provide him with the necessary items for breakfast, but we hadn’t seemed to get to that stage at CK’s apartment. I wasn’t going to make a stink about that. One thing at a time. I was happy he finally had all his boxes unpacked and a bed to be honest. Breakfast could be dealt with down the road.
We got ready and were out the door. We’d also managed to figure out we could commute together to work. Originally, he was walking to a different subway than I was, but after further investigation, I learned we could both catch the necessary subways from the same station, and it would be the same distance for CK. Every morning we walked together and said goodbye with a kiss on the platform. It was a simple routine, but I was already thoroughly enjoying our morning walk to work together.
That night, CK had to work late. I went home and went to free outdoor yoga on the pier in Hoboken with my roommate instead of CK. We were spending the night apart. He had to be at work early the following morning for a pitch. When I got home from yoga, I made dinner, watched TV and fell asleep in my bed alone after chatting with CK about his day.
I woke up early the next morning feeling lost. The man I loved wasn’t there. It was shocking how much of a difference it made having him in my bed. I didn’t sleep nearly as well as I did when he was present. It was like I was an infant all over again missing my mother’s heartbeat. I needed to feel him close to me to get a good night’s sleep. I forced myself to get out of bed and motivated myself for a nice morning run along the Hudson. I stopped to take pictures for Instagram of the city where I knew my boyfriend was still soundly sleeping.
I ran back home, finished getting ready and stopped by the allergist for my shot before heading to work. I was really committing to getting in shape and losing weight, so that afternoon, I took lunch at the gym. I wanted a six-pack again, and I wanted shoulders, arms and pecs I could be proud of again. When I finished, I was in a spectacular mood. I shot CK a text to remind him how much I love him. I was also horny from the endorphins running through my veins. I started to sext him, telling him all the things I wished I could do to him in the gym shower.
Warning: The following may be too graphic for some. That’s always been a fantasy of mine, however, I never had any desire to do it with complete strangers. In an ideal world, CK and I would go to the same gym. We’d walk in together, but not acknowledge each other while we were in the gym working out. When he was finished, he would head into to the lockers to shower. He’d strip down in front of me, not acknowledging my existence before strutting to the shower of his choice. I would follow just behind and slip into his shower stall and close the curtain behind me. We’d have sex under the hot water without causing too much commotion to attract attention from others. After finishing inside him, I would rinse off and leave the shower like nothing happened. He would finished washing up and recovering from our tryst while I got dressed and headed home like nothing happened to start making dinner. He would follow a few minutes behind, and the first time we would acknowledge each other would be at the door where I’d welcome him home from a hard day’s work at the office with a big kiss. We’d eat our dinner with big smiles knowing we have an epic sex-life. Some day…
So in shorter terms, I described this situation to him over text. When I first began, he thought I meant to text someone else. He must have thought I was cheating on him with someone at the gym. I assured him the texts were for him and reminded him how the conversation begane explaining that this was my fantasy. I also pointed out the irony of the situation and detailed how he was the one who sexted the wrong person, not me (just like the first day we started chatting and he wanted me to come over for sex).
That night, I had plans to see Porgy and Bess with my coworker, so I didn’t see him again. I think he felt a bit left out, but I’d been coworkers with this girl for over five years, and the two of us had never hung out outside work together. I also had to head to our Chelsea office to work early in the morning. I took the opportunity of being off the radar a bit to hit the gym again that afternoon, this time for a run on the treadmill. I began thinking about CK and I in the gym once again, but it would remain a fantasy.
When I finished work, I went to my volleyball game, came home to shower and made my way into the city to spend the night in CK’s bed. We’d spent a decent amount of time apart considering we’d been spending every waking minute together outside our workdays. I was thrilled to see him and even more ecstatic I was sleeping with him that night. After a late-night romp, we dozed off in each other’s arms. When we woke in the morning, we hit the gym once again. Alas, we worked out on opposites sides of the gym once again.
When we finished, we continued our routine of getting ready for work and were out the door. That night, after work, I ran home and grabbed my things for the weekend. We had a big weekend coming up, and I had to pack for many different options. It was EXTREMELY frustrating because I wasn’t sure what we’d be doing, I wasn’t going to be home again until Sunday at the earliest, and it was Pride Weekend. I asked CK for help on what to pack, and he was of no use. The fight was quickly escalating over the phone, and my frustration level was at its peak. I wasn’t used to going to gay events and circuit parties, and I was feeling a lot of pressure. This was a burden I’d been carrying around for weeks, and the moment of truth was arriving. This was going to be my first full Pride Weekend, and I had no idea what I was about to get myself into. I was scared sh*tless!…