Posts Tagged satisfied

Running with Scissors

Another Fourth of July, and another night of disappointment. I’d gone to bed that night contemplating my relationship. Was I strong enough to continue to deal with this? I looked to the future and ran numerous scenarios in my head. I asked myself, “Is this worth it? Should I get off this train now before it’s a complete train-wreck?”

When we woke in the morning, we discussed what happened the night before. CK apologized. He told me he didn’t know I was so black and white on the issue. That’s when I laid it all out for him. It was not okay nor would it ever be okay. We’d had this discussion before, and I wasn’t going to continue to have it anymore. I made it clear: I wasn’t going to stand by on the issue. He had a choice to make. He took that to heart and told me he would do whatever it takes. “I love you with all my heart, and I will do anything to keep you in my life,” he added.

It appeared we were finally on the same page, and we both went to work. I had a half day at the office, so when I finished, I went home and hit up the gym. I was finally getting back into the swing of things. I’d injured my shoulder lifting in the gym months prior, so it was difficult to motivate myself to continue going when I wasn’t able to lift to my full potential. When I hopped in the pool, I was able to get back into shape with low impact on my shoulder. This was my way to finally get back in shape while my shoulder healed.

When I finished at the gym, I went home and packed a bag to head back into the city. CK, Hip and I were all going to see Scissor Sisters in concert that night. After the argument getting ready for Matinee, I asked CK ahead of time to help me come up with an outfit to wear. I didn’t want this to turn into another fight. It worked out much better this time because I was able to pack my bag with confidence. I wasn’t nearly as self-conscious as I was last time. When I was ready, I hopped on my motorcycle and made my way to Hell’s Kitchen.

When I arrived, CK and Hip were prepping a pitcher with drinks to head to the roof to share a cocktail. They both seemed a little loopy, like they’d been drinking for quite some time. We grabbed the pitcher and made our way upstairs to watch the sunset. Within a half hour, we polished off the entire pitcher. When we ran out, we made our way back downstairs. I was in a drinking mood, so Hip and I ran out to get more libations while CK hopped in the shower. We came back and mixed up another pitcher. I sat on the bed with Hip watching while CK tried on about twenty outfits and permutations of accessories.

As I watched CK while we listened to music, something about him didn’t quite to add up. He wasn’t being himself. I grew suspicious and my attention was hypersensitive. I was noticing everything. Hip put on Cedric Gervais’ Molly. The song continued asking me if I can help her find “Molly,” and I began to wonder if the two of them had already found her. When Hip handed CK something small, and he placed it in a box on his nightstand, I grew even more suspicious. Who knows what it was, but everything wasn’t adding up in my mind. Nothing I saw was concrete. But, I still couldn’t shake the notion something was up. I felt it in my gut. Were promises being broken already?

We continued getting ready for a few hours. This was all new to me. I never went to concerts and got ready with friends. I was just taking it all in. That’s when CK insisted I change my clothes. He wanted me to join in. I told him I was already wearing my outfit, but he wasn’t satisfied. He insisted I try on his jeans instead of my own. He felt they were more suitable, and I was embarrassed. This is exactly what I was trying to avoid. I protested, but he continued to insist I at least try on his jeans. When I couldn’t get them past my thighs I pulled them off and put a stop to the whole conversation. I was already on edge with my suspicions. I insisted I was going to continue to be myself. I had my own individuality, and I didn’t need to compromise that for him. “Are you embarrassed by me? I’m not just some Ken doll you can play dress up with,” I protested. I got dressed again and made my way to the living room. He successfully put me in a bad mood, and I was really tempted to tell him to go without me. I wasn’t looking forward to this concert at all.

I sat in the living room while they continued to get ready in the bedroom. Time was passing quickly, and it was getting later and later. I was continuing to refill my glass while I waited. I figured if I was in a bad mood, at least I could get a little drunk to put me in the proper state of intoxication for a concert. When they finally decided on an outfit and realized it was past time to go, they couldn’t locate the tickets.

I made an effort to look for the tickets with them. CK insisted he left them in a specific spot, but they were no longer there. I remembered seeing them in that spot, so it was obvious someone moved them. After being accused of moving them numerous times by CK, only to respond declaring my innocence, I decided to stop looking. I sat back and watched the frenzy. This was not my problem. I never touched the tickets, let alone having them in my possession. I didn’t even want to go to the concert at this point. First CK was insensitive about my attire, and then he insinuated I lost the tickets he misplaced.

As time passed, CK got more and more agitated to the point he started throwing things around his bedroom. His accusations became more and more pinpointed on Hip and I. He was taking no responsibility for misplacing the tickets that were in his possession. As his frustration level rose, so too did mine. I wasn’t going to stand there and take his verbal abuse when I was 100% sure of my innocence. It was clear he was intoxicated, and I wanted nothing to do with this situation. It was time for me to go home. I began to gather my things to leave when the situation got physical.

When he started to get aggressive, Hip intervened at my request because I wasn’t going to get into a shoving match. I had my fill. I wasn’t going to fight with an irrational man. I was just going to leave.

As I made my way to the door while CK got in my face and shouted hurtful things at me, Hip separated us, pulled me aside and managed to convince me to stay, but after all that, I was done. Against my better judgment, I stayed. I sat on the couch and waited for someone to find the tickets. I was in for a miserable night. Regardless of what was to come, I chalked the night up to a complete failure…

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Tying Up Loose Ends

It was happening. I was falling for this great guy who managed to find me on Grindr. Who would have thought? I was still quite unsure how he felt about me, but I still had no luck finding a single fault in him.

I was prepared to take things slow with Clark Kent. I saw no need to rush things. Dating all these men in NYC helped me relax and enjoy things in real time. I didn’t need to think about what was coming next. I only needed to think about what was happening now. I was enjoying his company immensely.

That being said, I needed to tie up some loose ends. I had no desire to see any other guys while seeing CK. He was great, and he kept my attention. I didn’t want to wander and philander. I wanted him and him alone.

The first loose end to tie up was Southern Drawl. It took me two weeks to realize he wasn’t right for me. He’d gone home to the South to visit family, and it offered me a necessary reprieve from him. He sent me a few pictures from down there and a few texts. I responded in turn, but they were very short. When he asked how my day was going, I responded with what I’d done that day. “Well thanks for the play by play. Enjoy the rest of your week. Let me know if you wanna hang out again when I get back,” he responded. I wasn’t going to take that lying down. “Whoa! Where’s the hostility coming from?”

He apologized and explained he didn’t mean it that way. “How bout enjoy the rest of your week, and I look forward to hanging with you sometime when I get back 🙂 xoxo,” he added. I told him we only knew each other a short period of time and warned him not to get ahead of himself. I was using this turn of events to drive a rift between us.

He texted: “Well, that was a joke, but point taken. Wow! So I’ll go back to your statement from a few months ago. Ball is in your court. Otherwise, you won’t be hearing from me.” I reminded him to recall who picked that ball up again in the end. Then came the clincher: “Well, I guess I dropped it cause I’m being drunk and stupid again. Oh well. That ‘let’s not get ahead of ourselves’ $hit just irked me. So Grindr away, do your thing and hit me up if you want to hang out sometime. No hard feelings if not. I’ve learned my lesson about guys in the city and was a dumba$$ to think you could be different. But that’s my fault, not yours.”

I had my out. I wasn’t going to let him talk to me like that. I wasn’t going to try to foster a relationship with someone who made such accusations. We’d known each other two weeks, and I was already getting drunken rants. This wasn’t a good sign of what was to come.

In my book, he was done. I deserved an apology, and until I got one, I wasn’t going to communicate with him. I was going to give him a day to apologize. Just when I was about to inform him he’d killed any chance with me, he texted, “Had a rough night last night. Whiskey on the river. Bad combo.” This was an excuse, not an apology — Unacceptable. Two days later, I responded, “Still waiting for an apology. You were way out of line, and I did nothing to deserve your assumptions!”

He apologized profusely and cited more reasons why he’d been so harsh. “You’re an incredible guy, but if you never want to hang out again, I get it. But, for the record, I did miss talking to you and stuff this week,” he texted. He still seemed to be making excuses for himself. I didn’t respond. A day later, he said, “So, I guess that’s it then, huh?”

I was done with him. I told him from the start I don’t play these games. It seemed to be his mode of operation. I simply replied, “I think we should try friends for a bit. I get that you were drunk, but drunk minds speak a sober heart…” He asked if we could talk and tried calling me. I texted back telling him I was still at work, which was the truth. He started playing the martyr and going off on me. I told him to stop being so melodramatic. When I left work to grab dinner before returning to the office, I called him.

We talked for about a half hour. I explained to him all the things he did and how they were wrong. He didn’t even realize all the things he was doing. I pointed out how he was unloading all his baggage on me and how unfair that was. I did nothing to deserve that. I proposed we take a big step back and work on a legitimate friendship first. In reality, I was pretty much done with him. I was purely being polite. He was a decent guy, but he was a little broken.

He wasn’t satisfied with this and wanted to redeem himself, but I gave him an ultimatum. I said we could either be friends, or we could be nothing. That was his choice. It all depended on his future actions toward me.

As time progressed, and I was too busy to hang out with him when he asked me to, he began getting very snippy with me. I suggested a happy hour drink, but that went south fast. His sarcasm came out in full force until I said, “On second thought, maybe that was a bad idea.” I pointed out to him how combative he was toward me and said obviously this wasn’t going to work out between us. I gave him my work address so he could mail me back the sunglasses he borrowed from me. I didn’t even want to have to go through seeing him again. He’d gotten on my last nerve.

He told me how hurt he was by the whole thing, but I pointed out to him it was all of his own doing. He never treated me with trust and respect before he even had any reason to doubt me. I wasn’t going to take any more of his crap. I’d already dealt with enough. He couldn’t understand how his going off on a drunken tirade toward me was such a deal breaker. “It just doesn’t add up,” he said.

He was clearly hurting. I know this because he typed it out in black and white. “I’m miserable right now,” the text read.

He told me to delete him from my phone and he planned to delete me from his. In another instance, he said, “And for the record, I’m truly upset. You’re one of the good ones. And I’m a piece of $hit to write off apparently.” He wasn’t going to guilt me into liking him again. It was OVER!

That left two other loose ends to tie up. I had been meaning to text the Jersey City athlete for some time. He seemed like a really nice guy, and we got along great, but he was no CK. I needed to be fair to him and let him know what’s up. I texted him and said, “Hey dude. I def owe you a text and an explanation… I had a great time with you that one night, but at the same time, I’d also just met someone. I want to let you know I think you’re a great guy, but things have progressed. And, I want to give this a shot. I hope you understand and don’t take it personally! And I apologize since this message is long overdue!” He responded quickly, saying, I completely understand. I’m in a similar situation myself actually. When it rains, it pours, right?” I was happy to hear he was cool with things. I added, “LOL. Yes. Glad to hear. Maybe we can hang out again sometime and build a friendship?…” He responded, “I’d like that.”

After that, we chatted a few times on Facebook. I asked him how things were going with his new man, but learned the guy simply stopped responding to him. Turns out it was one of my neighbors. We still haven’t found time to hang out as friends, but I’m sure it will happen sometime. I need to have a gay friend nearby these days…

Middle Eastern and I hadn’t seen each other in quite some time. He’d text periodically to see how I was doing, but we made no plans to see each other. I was still a little put off from the time he told me he’d come over and never did.

At one point, he asked if we could hang out again. I told him that would definitely work. I was not opposed to hanging out, but that would be all that transpired between us. No more sex. No more intimacy. We’d purely be friends. It wouldn’t be easy, because we did have a great deal of fun in bed, but I had faith I could do it.

The time came for me to tell him I’d met someone else. “So anything new?” he texted one day. “Actually, yes. I’ve recently started dating someone. Been trying to figure out a way to bring it up… I hope you understand,” I responded. Immediately, he shot back, “Well, I’m definitely happy for you :). And I’m glad you told me. Kinda stung a little, not gonna lie about that.”

I felt really bad. I did like him a great deal, and I didn’t want to hurt him. There was no easy way to tell him, so honesty would be the only way to go. “Sorry! Hence my hesitation. You’re a great guy, and I hope we can be friends!! You kinda disappeared on me. Seemed like you met someone else. I put myself out there and met someone…” I added. He expressed how he was really happy for me and pointed out it just wasn’t meant to be. I told him he deserved someone young and fun and told him I really meant it about being friends. “Maybe. When I get over you. Of course I wanna be friends with you. We discussed grabbing a drink sometime, but that still had yet to happen. Some day we’ll find the time to hang out and become good friends.

And just like that, all loose ends were tied up. It wasn’t easy, but it was over. Now, I could concentrate all my efforts on the new man in my life — Clark Kent. The man who cut the roster down to one.

We tried to make plans to see each other during the week, but it never seemed to work out. Instead, we’d have to wait until the weekend to see each other again. It wasn’t easy, but it would have to do. I didn’t want to do anything to scare him off. I was too infatuated to lose him already. I would be patient. I would wait for things to happen naturally. I would finally do things right, and hopefully, by putting everything I’d learned from all the men I dated, I would find true love.

P.S. I still don’t have my sunglasses…

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Southern Hospitality

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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Is This Going to Become a Trend?

Once again I had a Friday off from work, and once again I found my libido taking over my ability to reason. I woke up that morning feeling frisky, and of course I pulled up Grindr to see who was around.

I went through a lot of guys and even started acting like all the other guys I hate on Grindr. I was skipping the pleasantries and getting right to the point. I knew I needed to find a guy who was simply looking for one thing. I didn’t want a guy who would linger or keep calling. I just wanted my libido satisfied.

I finally found a guy who seemed to be interested. He was a black man who had an amazing body. When I gave him my proposition, he surprisingly responded with a reasonable response. He didn’t normally seek out hookups, but he understood the periodic need to satiate the animal within. He wasn’t completely comfortable with just coming to my apartment and jumping into bed. He wanted to meet me in person first. I learned we both went to NYSC, so we agreed to meet at the gym and take things from there.

I get no service when I’m at the gym since it’s completely underground. I texted him just before entering “the cave” telling him what I was wearing and that I’d arrived. I worked out for nearly an hour, and he hadn’t made an appearance. I assumed he stood me up. I actually walked upstairs until I got service to exchange a few texts with him. He was on his way. I informed him I was nearly done my workout. I guess my libido was slowly fading with the endorphins of working out.

I was doing my last circuit of abs before I was ready to head out when I finally saw him emerge from the locker room. He came right over to the mat. I smiled as he approached, and he laid down next to me. He started doing sit-ups at a rapid pace — So much so that his shirt began to lift and expose his abs and the tiny shorts that barely covered him, exposing a majority of his jock strap. It certainly wasn’t anything I’d attend the gym wearing, but I could tell he was a bit of an exhibitionist.

The whole time, I waited for him to get my attention and say something, but he never did. After a few sets, he got up and walked away. I assumed he wasn’t interested. Apparently, I’d just been rejected without a word. It was quite a blow to the ego. Maybe I needed to stay at the gym a little longer.

I made my way into the locker room to change when I discovered him getting undressed right next to my locker. He was standing there in his jock strap putting his clothes into his locker when he stepped back and removed the jock as well. He was quite the “gifted” man. Of course I was sneaking a peek every chance I got. It’d been a while since I’d seen someone so “gifted” in person. It was very difficult to hide my own excitement in my gym shorts. I needed to leave before I got really excited and someone took notice.

He grabbed a towel and made his way towards the showers. It was just the tease I needed to get my engine revving again. Looks like it was going to be the computer and me when I got home.

As I left, I texted him declaring my disappointment at his lack of interest. He responded back almost immediately, “Did you leave?” I explained to him I was done my workout and thought he wasn’t interested, so I was heading home. He told me he was definitely interested, and he just didn’t want to interrupt my rhythm. He told me he’d be over in a short bit.

When he arrived, we sat on my bed chatting a bit. He was a freelance journalist over in New Jersey covering the Whitney Houston funeral. He seemed like a really intelligent down-to-earth guy. It made the hookup a little more relaxed and less transactional.

Warning: The following may be too graphic for some. Things started to get hot and heavy, and we both found ourselves naked enjoying each other’s embrace. After a short while, I took out a condom and some lube while he relaxed on his back. We were going at it for a little while when I accidentally slipped out of him. I wasn’t the only thing to fall out however. I sincerely hope my face didn’t show what was going through my mind at the time. This wasn’t as bad as the guy in San Francisco, but it certainly wasn’t pleasant. There was a pea-sized nugget laying on my sheets at the base of his behind. If this was going to keep happening, I was going to learn to be celibate.

I quickly improvised and suggested we continue our activities in the shower. We had some fun in there until we returned to the bed. I did my best to avoid the nugget while we both tried to finish ourselves off. Finally, I climaxed (I’m amazed I was able to with everything going on around me).

He informed me it would be a long time before he was able to finish himself. Apparently, he had similar issues to my own. I was happy in the realization my symptoms were finally lessening, and I was able to relax and finish more readily.

He got dressed, and I said goodbye to him. About ten minutes later, after immediately throwing my sheets into the washing machine, I received a text from him. He’d left a bracelet behind — And it was very important to him.

DAMNIT! I was going to have to see him again. I told him I’d bring it into the city sometime, but he suggested he would collect it over the weekend the next time we were both heading to the gym.

In the end, we needed to plan an evening for him to swing by and pick it up, but this time I told him, “No sex.” He stopped by for all of thirty seconds while I handed it to him through the door, never to be seen again.

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Back to Reality

Christmas day had passed. My time home was coming to an end. I was happy to be home, but I was also anxious to get back to normal life.

The morning after Christmas, my father and I decided to do a little shopping to see if we could land any special deals to kill time. I would also finally be in cell phone service, so I could text Smiles and wish him a safe flight. When I got into service, I got an influx of text and picture messages. He’d sent me quite a few, keeping me updated on what he was up to. I really was missing him and quite anxious to get back to see him. I proposed we do dinner at my apartment since he had to postpone it before the holidays. He texted back in agreement. I was finally going to get to make us the standing rib roast. I told him I missed him, and he responded, “I miss you too! 🙂 “ I could have melted into a puddle right there. This was so unlike him to express his emotions like this, but I was eating it up!

The day after Christmas is always spent with my father’s side of the family. We all gather together for a nice potluck meal that rotates from house to house year to year.  This side of the family has also shrunk significantly. My grandparents have been gone since I was quite young. My father’s brother is in rough shape these days from his battles with diabetes. His sister died a few years ago and her husband is in a nursing home. I rarely see their daughter, my cousin since she moved away and got married. That left one sister whose husband also passed away a few years ago. But as that generation was shrinking, another was growing in leaps in bounds. The living sister has 5 children, all of which are married and have become baby making machines. They now outnumber the four of us five to one.

The gathering is always a lively one with many children running about. Christmas is one of the two times I spend with this side of the family each year (the other being an annual family reunion). We also have an annual tradition of a “Yankee gift swap” or “white elephant sale” depending where you come from. The tradition has lost a lot of its allure as my cousins have adopted a new tradition of buying crap at Wal-Mart and Big Lots the day after Christmas for half price.

My sister and I had to work the Tuesday after Christmas, so around 5:00 we hopped in the car and made our way back to Hoboken. When I got back to my apartment and unloaded all my presents from home, I picked up the phone and called Smiles. Sadly, it went straight to voicemail. I was hoping to relax after a long car ride with some time talking to him, but alas, that wouldn’t be the case.

My roommate arrived home, and we swapped all our holiday stories. We plopped down on the couch and started to catch up on the programs we saved on the DVR. After some time, Smiles called. I think if you were in New Jersey when the phone rang, you may have seen a beacon of light in the sky that was my smile.

He told me about his trip home and the ordeal he went through. When he got back to the city, he’d gone out with one of his female friends for dinner. He devised a new plan to work out of her apartment going forward so he would be more productive than he was working out of his apartment. He felt if he had a place to go to every day that wasn’t in line of sight of his bed, he would get more done. I told him I thought it was a great idea. Even though they wouldn’t be coworkers, they could keep each other on task. Either that, or it would be a complete disaster, and they would be a constant distraction for each other.

I told him about my time home, my family and how the gift swap has become a sham. He laughed and told me about the rest of his time home with the family.

It wasn’t a long phone conversation, as our phone calls never are, but it certainly satisfied my hunger for Smiles. It would satiate me until I got to see him the following night when he came over for dinner.

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