Posts Tagged sick

Connecting the Dots

Just because I said I wasn’t going to hit up Grindr constantly in search of sex from strangers didn’t mean I couldn’t satisfy myself with guys I’d already been with. This way they wouldn’t be strangers.

The last time I visited the bar manager in Hoboken, I had a great time. He had an amazing body, and we both really enjoyed each other. Wednesday, when I woke, he happened to be around. There had been a few days I suggested we get together, but he was always heading out-of-town for something. This time, he was available. There was a small snafu. He was sick. He had a sinus infection, so he was worried he’d get me sick. I told him it would be alright. We would simply avoid kissing each other. He told me to come up to his place, and he’d break out the glory hole again.

This visit was pretty much the same drill as my last visit to his apartment. He left the door unlocked. I was to walk in, undress, and saunter up to the hole in the sheet hung in the bathroom doorway. He was waiting for me on the other side. I hopped on my motorcycle and made my way to his place. I did as I was told.

Warning: The following may be too graphic for some. I removed my shorts and inserted myself into the opening. Immediately, he grabbed hold and began to orally pleasure me. It felt amazing. I wasn’t fully into the glory-hole thing, but it was making it a little more exciting. It wasn’t long before I pulled the curtain back once again. We started kissing each other all over each other’s bodies and swapping back to him on his knees. He was wearing his hat, which I’d already knocked on the floor so I could grab hold of his long flowing hair and his boots. It was an incredibly sexy look for him, and he knew it. I couldn’t keep my hands off his body.

He turned around and began grinding his backside against my crotch. I was incredibly turned on and excited. It felt so great to simply have his back pressed against my chest with one hand pulling across his chest so keep him close and the other pleasuring his impressive manhood. We continued this action until he was so excited he finished all over the bathroom floor. Everything felt amazing, and I was very close to finishing myself. However, this didn’t happen.

Once again, we moved things to the couch. He was all over me and everything felt incredible. I wanted to finish for him so badly. He was awaiting it with great anticipation ever since I first fooled around with him. We played for quite some time, and I kept losing my erection and gaining it again when I would pleasure his endowment. Throughout the whole visit, we were incredibly tempted to kiss, and came close many times, but at the last second withdrew again.

When a large period of time passed, he threw in the towel. He had to get on with his day. He was disappointed, and I was too. Not only disappointed, but also embarrassed. I wanted so much to please him. I wanted to give him exactly what he was looking for, but I came up short.

He walked into the bathroom and threw on a pair of sweatpants. As he walked, I could see his manhood swinging back-and-forth. It was such a turn-on. This is one thing that will always get my engines revving! He loved walking around with his package easily visible as well. It was something he was proud of, making it all the more sexy. I walked up to him and grabbed hold of it. I wish this was something I could do on the street. It would be so hot!

As I got dressed, I made a point to look around a bit. When I last left his place, I suspected he lived with his partner. I indeed confirmed my suspicion when I noticed there was only one bedroom. I also tried to casually scope out the pictures on the wall. The apartment was not decorated like two random roommates living together. It was definitely the residence of a loving couple. I felt a pang of guilt. This guy seemed like a good guy. I was disappointed in him for cheating on his lover. I didn’t know the dynamic between the two, but I never liked seeing infidelity. I wasn’t passing judgment, but I was putting myself in his mate’s shoes. I was a partnered man’s affair. Now I knew why we never had full penetration.

I said goodbye and made my way home. This would be the last time I would see him. I wouldn’t be the last time I chatted with him. He happened to sign on to Grindr about a week later. I was checking to see if I received any new messages and messaged him just to say hi. He was in Miami. I asked him if his man came with him, and he told me he was at home. Without knowing it, he slipped up and confirmed to me he had a man in his life. I pointed out to him how I caught him in a slip-up. When he originally mentioned the guy, he told me it was his roommate. He acknowledged his lie, and I told him we were cool. I had no hard feelings. It was his life, not mine. I then realized he was probably on Grindr down in Miami looking for a new piece of tail. I told him to enjoy himself, and with that, I said goodbye to him for probably the last time.

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Late Night Quickie

Sunday night in LA, I took quite a blow to my heart. I tried to prepare myself for the inevitable goodbye, but I didn’t get to say goodbye. I’d driven all over LA trying to connect with The Navigator, but he wasn’t responding.

I faced facts and drove to the airport. I had no idea what else to do with my time, so I just drove to the car rental lot and returned my car. I figured I could at least use some time at the airport to blog a bit. I sat int he airport diner and ate my dinner alone.

My flight home was awful. First off, it was a redeye. I was set to land at 6:00am Monday morning. I had to go to work later that day so I tried my best to sleep on the plane. It was also awful because I was crammed in a widow seat towards the back of the plane. My airline status with United got me nowhere. I barely fit in my seat, and I wasn’t able to stretch out and walk around because the two men next to me were sleeping the entire flight.

I managed to sleep for two hours, but woke up after that. I had no feeling in my ring and pinky finger of my left had. Apparently I slept on it funny. When a fair amount of time passed, and I never regained feeling, I became worried. Maybe I had a blood clot or maybe I’d done some nerve damage. I tried to think about other things and distract myself, but I really started to get worried. I took out my laptop and did some more blogging, but even that was a challenge with two numb fingers. I was really starting to worry, but the feeling didn’t return the rest of the flight. (Four weeks and a doctor appointment later, and I finally regained feeling — I had a nerve impingement — Cubital Tunnel Syndrome).

I was exhausted all day at work Monday. I’d only gotten a few hours sleep on the plane and about one hour in my own bed before work. When I got home after work, I was still horny from my rambunctious trip. I was on Grindr, and a cute guy from the city wanted to come over for some fun. I didn’t turn him down since he was hot and said he’d wear his jockstrap.

When he arrived, I realized he was a redhead. He also had a slight Hispanic accent. He was also quite a presence clocking in at 6’4″. He was not born in America, but had been here a majority of his life. He was decent on the eyes, but nothing you’d run to your friends about. When he arrived we went straight to my room. He slowly got undressed and comfortable until we were both laying on the bed, me in my boxer briefs and him in a jockstrap.

Warning: The following may be too graphic for some. I found the jockstrap very sexy. I’ve always been attracted to the athlete types and find locker rooms to be one of the sexiest places. They just turn me on. Always have.The jockstrap really gave him the leg up in my book. He was looking for a hot top, and I agreed to fill the position, literally. I broke out the condoms and lube, and we have a good time. Sometimes it was a little weird and awkward, but sex is never perfect! He really seemed to be enjoying himself. I did as well, but I could already tell this guy was going to linger. He was a gentle spirit. This would be no wham bam thank you man. I was going to have to sit through some pillow talk.

He started talking about his grandmother and how she is sick. He was flying home the following day to see her before she passed away. It wasn’t looking good. I started to feel bad for him, but then my emotions became distracted when he mentioned things like sleeping with her in her hospital bed. He looked like he was ready to cry, but all I could think about was this strange layout in a hospital room. I understood he was close to her, as she was responsible for raising him, but some of the things he was saying with his accent seemed very strange to me. There was obviously a cultural divide.

After we chatted some more, and he asked if he could use my shower. Now he was really pushing it! I obliged the request, but after that, he was gone.

He showered and toweled off. He began to get ready to go home. He talked about getting together again when he got back. He mentioned how heartless a lot of the other guys he’d hung out with were, and how sweet I was. He said how much he liked me. He wanted this to be an ongoing thing of friends with benefits. He told me his real name and that the name he gave me, Keith, was completely made up. Someone was a little paranoid. I felt like I found a stray puppy who wanted to follow me home. There would never be a next time, but I told him to hit me up when he got back from visiting his grandmother. After about three weeks, he did of course text, and I of course did not respond.

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Late Night Check-In

Sunday morning, I woke up alone. It’d been a few days since I saw Smiles. I wished he’d been with me that night, but he was at a party in the city — God knows what he was up to.

I was feeling a little down. I wasn’t happy with how things were looking between us. Every time I seriously doubted his investment in our relationship, he would do something to show he still cared, but shortly after, I’d step back and wonder if it was worth it.

I had a few errands to run that I put off the day before — Mainly getting food for the week at the grocery store. I wanted to be as efficient as possible, so I took the motorcycle out to run my errands. When I finished, I came home and crashed on the couch with my laptop and a few movies.

I stayed there until the sun went down. I got up only to get food and use the facilities. I wasn’t in a funk, but I was feeling rather lonely.

Shockingly, Smiles called me late that night. It was around 10:30, and he was making his was back from the final party. It was in Connecticut, and he decided to take the Mustang out. He was just making his way back to the garage when he called. It was sweet of him. He wanted to hear all about my weekend and wanted to tell me a little about the party. I was still a little sour grapes having to hear about a party I wasn’t invited to. I knew if the shoe was on the other foot, I wouldn’t have thought twice about inviting him. I would have wanted to spend the time with him.

He also told me he was beginning to get sick. It was no wonder considering he was up until 4:00am three nights straight. He’s no spring chicken and he certainly can’t party and hang. I told him my concern, especially since it wasn’t that long ago he had surgery. Suggested a few remedies to help him feel better.

However, I still found it sweet of him to call just to chat. I was very pleasant and cordial, but I was also in the middle of a movie. When the conversation hit a lull, I told him I was going to get back to the movie I was watching. It was something he’d done when I’d called him before, so I didn’t feel guilty. I started to get the feeling he called because he was lonely and bored on his way home. He’d probably made all his business and friendly calls for the night on the drive, and he thought to circle back with me before the weekend was over. I was annoyed at the thought, and I didn’t want that to come across on the phone.

He detailed for me the long journey home ahead of him. All I could think in the back of my head was, “Well… You could have had company if you’d just asked.” He was making me feel like a complete “woman.” I hate feeling like that. It wasn’t that I was being emotional, but I felt clingy and like I was chasing him — Not a good feeling.

We said goodbye. I went back to my movie, and he made his way to the subway to head home.

When he got home, he sent me a text to let me know he made it home. Here is a clear indication something is wrong in your relationship — When you get that message, and you think to yourself, “Who cares?”

Things needed to change. I didn’t like what I was becoming or what was happening. Change was inevitable…

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Waking Up Drunk

When I woke up in the morning, I had little recollection of the night before, even leaving the bar. I could only remember a flash of about ten seconds of sex, and I actually remembered enjoying it. It was a scary feeling.

As the morning progressed, I didn’t let on that I blacked out the night before. I was hoping Smiles would divulge enough details for me to start piecing things together. I had so much to drink, I was still drunk when I woke that morning.

He hopped out of bed and went into the bathroom. I took the opportunity to lean off the bed to retrieve my boxers and put them on.

I went to the bathroom and cleaned myself up as best I could. I tried to fix my hair, but it was no use. I made a comment to Smiles about this, and he noted it was because I showered the night before. I showered the night before? I did not remember that AT ALL!

I wanted nothing more than to brush my teeth. Of course, Smiles didn’t have an extra toothbrush. I squirted toothpaste on my finger and brushed my teeth Survivor style. This was turning out to be a pretty sh*tty morning. I asked Smiles if I could borrow a t-shirt instead of my button-down from the night before.

Smiles detailed what he wanted to do with his day. He had a lot of boxes in his apartment he wanted to get into storage. He was able to procure a storage unit across the street from his apartment. It was necessary to transport his belongings from a storage unit in Harlem. I volunteered to help him since I had no plans for the day and was looking forward to spending more time with him. I had no idea how big a mistake that would be.

We began our journey at Starbucks. He ordered his favorite “salty pretzel drink,” and I ordered a coffee, a brownie, and pound cake. I was starving. We quickly snagged a cab to stay on schedule and sped up the FDR Drive. The cab wasn’t able to drive all the way to the storage facility because the New York City Marathon route was between us and the facility. We arrived at the storage unit just before his appointment only to find that the storage shuttle he booked was unable to make it to the facility. The trek uptown was for not.

We walked to the nearest subway stop downtown, and hopped aboard. At this point, my hangover was kicking in hardcore. I was feeling very sick. With every subway stop, I climbed deeper and deeper into the misery hole. Smiles was trying to talk to me, and I was giving him “um hm’s.” When we were about three stops from getting off, I started to feel extremely nauseous. I was not going to vomit in front of Smiles and in front of everyone else on the subway. I was going to make it, even if I had to run to a trash can on the street. I used all my being to keep it down and not give it up. Smiles could see I was not doing well, and suggested we hit up a bodega for a bottle of water. The minute I entered the fresh air, I felt infinitely better, but I still wasn’t 100%. I downed a bottle of water and soldiered on.

We walked around a bit and did some window shopping before stopping to grab lunch at Lucky Strike. I ordered a sandwich, but I wasn’t able to eat it. Smiles was very sweet all day long trying to take care of me. He gave many suggestions for ailments, but many of them involved liquor. No matter how small the amount, the mere thought was triggering my gag reflex. I asked the bartender to box up my lunch so I could eat it later in the day when I was feeling better. He provided me with some relief by offering peppermint essential oil to rub on my temples and under my nose. Surprisingly, it worked quite well.

We walked back to Smiles’ apartment so I could gather my things to head home. It was clear I was no longer a human being. I was a mere shell of a man. I kissed Smiles goodbye and walked north to the Christopher Street PATH station.

I went home and curled up on the couch and watched TV while I contemplated my recent life choices. After about an hour I was able to eat my croque-monsieur, and it was delicious. Hopefully my day would end better than it started.

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Movie, No Booty

If having to work on a Sunday isn’t bad enough, following a night of heavy drinking only makes things worse. My coworkers noticed my less than human state and offered to get me things to ease my pain, but I explained I just wanted to finish work and go back to bed.

The day was long and arduous. Many of my coworkers were dragging their feet, and it was all I could do to light a fire under their asses. I was trying to be as time efficient as possible, but it was no use unless everyone else was onboard.

When I didn’t think my day could get any worse, my mother called to tell me my grandfather passed away. I was expecting the news, but I had no idea when the call would come. He had very advanced cancer, so it was only a matter of time. I know he was more than ready to go, at times basically asking the hospital to give him the “black pill,” but no one likes to see a loved one go.

I soldiered on through my day not mentioning it to anyone until I was about to leave. I needed to tell my boss I would out at the end of the week to go home for the funeral. He was very sympathetic and supportive.

Really, after such a long day at the office, I wanted nothing more than to see Smiles. He could make me happy, no matter what physical state I was in. I hadn’t seen him since Friday night, and I didn’t get to spend the night in his apartment. I was itching for more time with him.

When I was nearing the end of my workday, I texted Smiles to ask him if he wanted to grab dinner. After some time passed, he responded apologizing, “Ah shoot! Just seeing this now. I ordered pizza and I’m starring at the mess I have to clean up here.” I was a little disappointed, but I wasn’t giving up that easily.

“Mind a little company for an hour or so? Not going to be around this week really…” I texted. We had a very big pitch coming up that week, and I knew I would be working late most nights. This was my last stitch effort to see him for a while. He replied, “Come eat this pizza and hang out. It’s not like the mess is going to get any worse.”

This was my first time venturing to his apartment. I knew the general neighborhood, but not the exact location. After work, I took a cab to his apartment. I was very excited to see him and happy I was finally getting the invite to his place, even if I had to invite myself.

His apartment was not what I expected other than the mess he was describing. He was in the process of moving and office worth of things into a storage unit. I didn’t care about any of that. I just wanted to cuddle up next to him in bed.

He offered me pizza, but I explained I already ate. He suggested we watch a movie, and I agreed. We went into his bedroom and chatted while he picked a movie. I told him about my grandfather, and he lent me his sympathetic ear. We’d already talked about how he was ready to go when we discussed religion at his birthday lunch, so he was already quite versed in the situation.

In the meantime, he selected All Good Things while I snuggled up next to him. I have a thing with constantly petting guys I date. I don’t know why, but I just crave the physical connection. I was constantly stroking him gently with my finger tips throughout the movie, switching my hand positions periodically. It was all I could do to refrain from jumping his bones. It wasn’t the most romantic movie of the year, but I’d already seen it and had sex on the brain. It’d been a while since we last had sex, and I wanted more.

Sadly, that wouldn’t happen once again. When the movie ended, it was 11:00pm. He gently hinted at my departure, even going to the bathroom to brush his teeth. Yet another sexless night. I was really beginning to wonder why he didn’t want to have sex with me. I wondered if it was my issues coming between us or if he wasn’t attracted to me. He never gave me any compliments about my body even thought I made a point of complimenting his. Maybe he just didn’t find me attractive.

Regardless, I gave him a kiss goodnight and walked all the way back to the PATH station to head back to Hoboken. The whole walk, thoughts flew through my head like lightning. I was hurt and worried. Hard to admit, but I almost wanted to cry.

That wouldn’t be the worst part of my night however. In the middle of the night I was woken by violent stomach cramps. I ran to the bathroom and destroyed my toilet. At times, I had to debate which end was more priority to face the toilet. I got almost no sleep and had a full day of work ahead of me. There was no way I could take a sick day.

In the morning I was greeted with a text from Smiles: “Maybe a stomach flu? Up all night with cramps and still hurting 😦 .” I finally nailed the source. I caught some bug from him. “I shared your pain! Still sharing… Was trying to figure out what I could have eaten yesterday… And I have to work all day today… 😦 ,” I responded. To which he replied, “This is the worst!”

Karma was coming back at me something fierce. I don’t know who I p*ssed off royally to deserve such a bad weekend, but the only thing keeping me going was it couldn’t get any worse than it already was.

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Every One But the One I Want

Friday arrived, and I was starting to nail down plans with Smiles for the night. He had things to do all day, so we planned to grab dinner and then head to his friend’s birthday party.

This meant I had time to kill after work. My good friend A asked me to grab happy hour drinks with her. She recently moved our of Hoboken into the city with her boyfriend, so I was already seeing a lot less of her. We were due for a catch-up.

She picked a place in the Flatiron District that’s known for their happy hour. We cozied up to a spot at the bar and chatted about our new situations. It had been a while since I caught her up on the status between Smiles and I. I took her for a ride on the roller-coaster ride of emotions I’d been through. She gave me advice on how I should proceed and things I should watch out for. After five years, she knows me quite well and can predict a lot about me, so I’ve come to listen intently to what she says.

She also took the time to talk about the new challenges she faced moving in with her boyfriend. I tried to give her my two cents for what it was worth. My biggest advice to her was to pick her battles. On the things she could let go, she should, but on the things she really cared about, she should make a stink. That way, he would realize with more poignancy when he was doing things that got under her skin.

In the middle of our conversation, Smiles called to discuss dinner. He chose a place about two blocks from where we were drinking, and we agreed to meet in a half hour. When the time came, and A and I had our fill of cocktails, we walked to the restaurant Smiles chose. I coerced her into coming along to meet him since none of my friends had the opportunity yet.

I introduced them to each other, and Smiles invited her to join us for dinner. A had plans to meet her boyfriend for dinner, and I could tell she was looking for a quick exit, so she agreed to sit with us for a few minutes. She was already running late. I appreciated her making the extra effort, and gave her the out she needed. I told her to get on her way.

After she left, the conversation with Smiles was slightly forced and awkward. I was having a hard time breaking through and there were periods of silence. I learned he was feeling very sick and his stomach was bothering him. He had issues with his appendix, and it was inflamed and bothering him again.

Now, I was worried. I genuinely cared for him and my paternal instincts kicked in. I was worried for his safety and said, “Don’t be a hero on me here. If you aren’t feeling well, we can go at any time. Don’t soldier on on my account.”

“Thank you for your concern, but I’ll be fine,” he replied.

The rest of the meal was pleasant, but quiet. I reached my hand under the table to rub his knee to try to make a better connection while we chatted. That, and I was still worried about his condition.

When we finished dinner and desert, we had some time to kill. Smiles walked around the neighborhood looking for a massage parlor (legit, not sexual) in which to kill time before the birthday party. We couldn’t find one still open to take advantage of, so we hopped in a cab and made our way to the party.

When we arrived at the party, I was slightly overwhelmed by the crowd. I’d never been to a party so heavily skewed male in my life. I learned the birthday boy was gay, which answered a lot of questions for me.

We found a comfortable spot to plant ourselves and each grabbed a drink and something to nosh on. We made a friend and chatted with him a bit. He was an extremely jacked and cut black man who is an interior decorator. It was interesting hearing him talk about his occupation, all while looking at someone who looked like a personal trainer.

After some time, this man turned to us and said, “Oh. Are you two together?”

Both their eyes focused on me. The pressure was on. I didn’t know what answer Smiles was looking for, but I saw this as an opportunity to gauge his reaction. I tilted my head slightly to the side nodding and said, “Yeah.”

Our new friend called attention to and questioned my head tilt heavily. I pointed out we didn’t know each other all that long. I still look back and wonder if Smiles was actually looking for me to say yes. I still wonder if he was being distant because he thought I wasn’t fully invested in our budding relationship. Of course I wanted to say yes, we were dating, but I didn’t know where his head was at the time. I didn’t want to scare him off by being overzealous.

We were nearing the time to head out for the night, but I needed to use the facilities first. That was particularly a challenge because the bathroom was being used by a few to sign a birthday book photo album. Finally, I gave up and assumed I could go when I got back to Smiles’ apartment.

We went downstairs and hopped in a shared cab with one of the female guests from the party. As we progressed, I learned I would not be going back to Smiles’ apartment. My destination was the PATH to go home. I was slightly shocked and annoyed. It was a Friday night. Why wasn’t I being invited back to his place. I know I’d never been there before, but this was a bit ridiculous. It was around midnight, and I was dreading my trek back to Hoboken.

He hopped out of the cab with me. We said goodbye on the street with a quick kiss, and I was on my way home. I’m not gonna lie. I was hurt. I felt rejected. There was only so much rejection I could take.

As I walked, I pulled out my phone. I called Boston, but of course, he was still ignoring my calls. I left him yet another voicemail. I also called my new friend to see what he’s been up to. No answer either. Finally, I texted the Principal. It’d been a while since we chatted, so I thought I’d given him enough space. We began texting, but I told him I’d have to continue the conversation on the other side of the river.

While waiting for the PATH, I nearly p*ssed my pants. The train going into the city dropped off a tranny who felt the need to flirtatiously wave at me and say hi. When it finally arrived, I leaned my back against the wall and closed me eyes to concentrate on something other than my bladder. Two women were in front of me on the crowded train, and around a turn, one fell into me. They started arguing with each other and engaged me in conversation. Though not stated outright, I learned they were a lesbian couple, and they were hot. We had a long conversation, and when we arrived at the Hoboken stop, they invited me to come hang out with them. They had no idea my preferences fall in the men category, and they were inviting me back to their place. I used my bladder as an excuse and said goodbye. It was early enough, but I  was not in the mood to play.

While speed walking home, a very large black girl grabbed my arm, pulled me towards her, and shouted, “TAKE ME HOME WITH YOU!” I ripped my arm free and continued to walk home, all the while texting with the Principal. I was flirting slightly, but not to the point of crossing the line with him. I missed talking to him and our flirtations. I really did like the guy, but the distance was still killer.

When I got home, I relieved myself and hopped into bed. I was disappointed I was there alone, but I opened up a whole new can of worms with the Principal. He still wasn’t over me, and I just scratched open that scab again. I even went as far as to pull up Grindr again for the first time in over a month.

It was just my luck. The one I wanted to be spending my night with just sent me on my way, while everyone I didn’t want anything to do with seemed interested in me.

Furthermore, I wouldn’t be seeing Smiles the following day. Originally I was planning to go to a horse race in New Jersey and invited him to join. When the day was approaching I was no longer interested in going and sold my ticket. I was hoping to spend the day with Smiles, but I learned he was going to Six Flags with friends — without me. I understand he has a life of his own, and I don’t have to spend every waking moment with him. But at this stage in our relationship, I wanted to spend more and more time with him. I certainly would have invited him on a fun trip such as the one he was going on. Apparently, he didn’t feel as strongly for me. A clearer picture was being painted for me. Maybe he just wasn’t that into me.

I realized things weren’t going as smooth as I would have liked, so I set myself on entertaining other ideas…

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Pillow Talk

After my first date with Pillow, I was very excited to see him again. However, I would have to wait a week. When the day finally arrived, I was very excited. I tried my best all day to get my work done to ensure a timely exit. After the debacle of picking restaurants last time, I put the burden on him to choose where we would go. We talked a few times during the day about him stressing to pick a location. We finally planned to grab dinner at Dos Caminos at 7:30.

At 7:30 on the dot, I got a text from him saying, “Hey. I need to reschedule for tonight. My sinuses are acting up, and I’m not feeling all that great. I just need to relax and hit the bed. So sorry for the late notice, but just not up for drinks or dinner tonight.” Needless to say, I was very disappointed, but also slightly annoyed. I sat around work with nothing to do for two hours. I could have gone home or made other plans. I responded with the only thing I knew to say, “Ok. Feel better!” I have to admit, I was very suspect of the last-minute cancellation. It seemed odd. If he wasn’t feeling well, I imagine he didn’t feel well all day long, not just that evening. But I didn’t want my imagination to run away since I have a habit of letting that happen. He mentioned hitting me up the following day to figure out a time to reschedule. Later that night, he suggested Friday for lunch, so I was reassured he wasn’t just blowing me off completely.

That Friday, we went to Dos Caminos for lunch. It was a very nice lunch, and we had good conversation. It wasn’t 100% fluid, but it was getting better. He had a hard shell to crack. We talked a lot more about his home and his living situation. I learned about his cat and a bit more about his relationship with his mother. It was nice getting to know him better. When we finished, I suggested we hit up the High Line as we had spoken about before. It was a gorgeous day, so he agreed it was a perfect idea, especially since he’d never been.

We made our way across town and walked to the bottom end of the High Line. He was really enjoying it, and I was enjoying watching his pleasure. We had nice casual conversation the whole length. When we go to the bottom end, we took a break in the shade against the railing. Through our conversation, there were about fifteen moments I wanted to just grab him and kiss him. Every time there was a pause, I wanted to go for it. However, there was an audience. There was never n instance when there wasn’t a crowd of people around to sneak a private moment. I think he wanted me to kiss him as well, or at least his body language suggested it. After a while, we decided to make our way north again to the other end of the High Line.

The whole walk back, I looked for a quiet corner to sneak into — No dice. I had experienced those pillow lips once before, and I wanted more. It had been too long! I was really starting to feel comfortable with him. The nerves ended and the conversation was much easier. We both really enjoyed our time up there. From start to finish the date lasted four hours. We walked the entire High Line, and it ended at Penn Station where he would grab his train home to Pennsylvania. As I said goodbye, he grabbed my hand. I pulled him in for a kiss. And then another. And then another. All short kisses, but nice ones nonetheless.

On my walk back to the PATH, I texted him, “Soooo…. I wanted to kiss you about 15 times on the High Line today. I just don’t do well with audiences…” He responded, “Had a great day!! Um, I’m with you. I’m not totally into an audience, but I was so relaxed at the end of the High Line in the Meat Packing District. I could have stayed and talked a while longer with you. ;)” It was nice to hear we were on the same page. He was a great guy who I still needed to get to know better, but a great guy nonetheless. I was looking forward to our next date and wanted to move things along a bit.

I took the liberty of inviting him to join me at my friend’s lake the following day. He told me he needed to see what he needed to get done the next day and wanted to check out Musikfest, but he would get back to me in the morning. That night, I followed up with a late night text, “I had a really great time with you today. Hope I get to see you again tomorrow. i.e. Come to the lake in the am and then head back for Musikfest in the evening.”

The next morning I went to the lake with my friends D, K and D’s girlfriend. I spent the day on the water and went waterskiing for the first time in my life. It was fun, but I was a little disappointed I never heard from Pillow. I went on with my day and tried not to let it phase me. I was unsuccessful. That night I went out with my friends, but it was very hard to have a good time…

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Sick to My Stomach

Monday morning, I woke to the sound of my alarm clock. The night before, N entertained the idea of taking the day off or working from home, however, this morning, his tone changed. He rushed to get ready for work since he was late, as usual. While he got dressed, everything from the night before slowly bubbled up in my brain. My disposition changed as I realized the hell my relationship was in. He gave me a kiss goodbye, and I gave him a forced smile as he walked out the door. I could tell by the expression on his face he knew how I was feeling.

Besides feeling like someone ripped my heart from my chest, I was feeling even sicker than the day before. My stomach was turning. I had so much work to do that day, but I couldn’t fathom going into the office. All morning, I was back n forth to the bathroom. I also realized sitting at home all day by myself with just my thoughts for company would be THE WORST thing possible for me at the time. The distraction of work would be a good for me, but I just couldn’t do it. I didn’t know if I could make the walk to the PATH, let alone make it through the whole day, so I called in sick.

All morning, I curled up in a ball on the couch watching TV. I tried to eat a bowl of cereal, but after four bites, I felt nauseous. I really did a number on myself that weekend. I drank very heavily both Friday and Saturday well into the morning, as well as a few cocktails on Sunday, which was because I thought a little hair of the dog might help. NOPE!

After a while, I tried to fall asleep, but sadly all I could do was think about N. I started to tear up again, but refused to let myself cry. Finally, out of exhaustion, I fell asleep.

After some time, my roommate’s girlfriend came by. She was packing their things for their move to a new apartment. I needed someone to talk to, so I told her what happened. She gave me her take on the situation and offered advice. I didn’t fully agree with her on some things, but I knew she was right about most of it. It just wasn’t what I wanted to hear. I knew in my brain I needed to break up with him — the guy in which I had zero trust to be faithful to me. But, my heart was not in sync. It still wanted him — this great guy I met and integrated into my life so easily. I was torn. I knew if I just had hard proof, it would be the closure I needed to get over it and end things with him.

Nevertheless, I didn’t think our conversation was over. I didn’t have all the answers I needed, and if I was going to be treated like a second string booty call, this relationship was over. I asked him if he would be around that night since he couldn’t spend the day at home with me. He responded by telling me he completely forgot, until his roommate reminded him, he was going to her brother’s graduation party and would be spending the night. I would not see him for at least another 36 hours.

A big red flag went up in my head. Since I had no trust in him whatsoever, I began stalking him on Grindr. Was he meeting up with a man? Grindr would tell me how far away he was. I knew his job was 6 miles from my apartment. At one point that evening, he was 10 miles away, and then it jumped to 33 miles away. Of course, my brain racked over what the pit stop was. Did he stop at a Grindr friend’s apartment on the way to the party for a quickie? Who knew? This is was I was reduced to.

I was driving myself insane, so I took my frustrations out on someone who was bothering me for some time, Gatsbie69. The week before I met N on Grindr, I met what seemed to be the perfect guy for me also on Grindr. He was 28, and his name was Tim, or so he said. We talked for hours between Grindr and AIM. He emailed me numerous pictures of him and his hot body, but something never quite added up. Long story short, we discussed our lives and interests and matched up quite well. I was excited to meet him, except he always had an excuse why he couldn’t. Over two months, I did some research and came to find how much of a fake he was. I couldn’t figure out what he was getting out of this arrangement, and in my agitated state, I ripped into him that night on AIM. He denied the accusations, but with little fervor. When I finished telling him what an awful person he is, I made sure to make a full report to Grindr for impersonating someone else.

I needed to get out of my apartment. I was driving myself crazy. I texted my friends to see what everyone were up to. I didn’t care what it was. I just needed a distraction. K finally answered. I told her how much of a wreck I was. I explained my lack of appetite during the day (K knows how much I love to eat, so she knew how out of sorts I was), so she invited me over for dinner. I jumped at the invitation. I was at her apartment in five minutes. She made lobster ravioli, and I was able to stomach four of them. So if you’re keeping track, I had four spoonfuls of cereal and four raviolis. But, I couldn’t help it. The thought of food made me nauseous. At this point, I knew it was more than just a hangover. I was causing myself so much emotional distress; it was beginning to affect my digestive system.

I was stronger than this. I didn’t do this. This is not who I am. Why was I letting one boy’s folly tear me down? It was ridiculous! But, no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t shake it.

After dinner, I laid on her couch watching TV with her. We didn’t talk, but it was just nice to be with someone and watching mindless TV. She doesn’t realize it, but she really helped me that day. I haven’t felt that depressed in a long time, and I really needed a friend to be there. Thanks K!

When N posted pictures of the party to Facebook, I knew he actually went to the party. When it started to get late, I walked home. I didn’t want to keep K up, and I knew it would probably do me good to get more sleep.

When I got back to my room, I hopped into bed. My California King never felt so empty as it did that night. I know I didn’t want N in my bed that night, but I also know I didn’t want to be alone either. The nightmarish thoughts that were my love life ran though my head until I was finally able to doze off to sleep.

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Pride Parade

The next morning, N woke up to me staring him in the face. I don’t know what I was looking at, but I was definitely looking for answers. When he opened his eyes, his expression said it all. It was as if he woke up from a bad dream, only to find it was reality. He kept blinking and closing his eyes and then looking back into mine. I’m sure he saw the pain that was there. I could tell he wanted to be anywhere else but there at that moment.

Neither of us said anything for a few moments until I broke the silence. “Can we talk about what happened last night?” He nodded in agreement and sat up in the bed. I kind of ambushed him before he even had a chance to wake up, but what could I do? It was all I could think about, and I wanted answers.

We talked about why he was so secretive about dinner with his friends. He denied being secretive and said he was completely upfront with me. When I pointed out a few discrepancies in the story, he brushed them off as details lost in confusion of planning for ten people. Then I addressed him kissing the guy. He flat out denied it still. He told me he didn’t know the guy and it was a peck on the cheek in passing. The body language between the two from what I saw would say otherwise, but I gave him the benefit of the doubt. I said, even if it was just a peck in passing, why were you talking to him in the first place? Why did you both have your phones out? Was this a guy you met before I arrived at the bar. (The man he kissed was Asian, and sure enough, that Monday, an Asian man friended him and wrote on his Facebook wall. Coincidence? Maybe. Maybe not.)

Here, he pled complete ignorance. He told me he had no idea who the guy was and couldn’t remember talking to him. He said he had a dream about talking to a bouncer about music and couldn’t remember what was reality and what was a dream since he was so drunk the night before. I knew this was bullsh*t. In my mind, I took a big step back. This was the ultimate betrayal of trust. We weren’t exclusive, but at this point, if he couldn’t be straight up with me, what did we have? Now, even more so, I felt like I was just a convenient booty call who lived across the street.

I explained how everything looks from my perspective. He stayed home the day before to primp his hair and his body, and donned sexy underwear to a gay club. What was he expecting to happen? He didn’t know I was going to meet up with him until he was already at dinner, so it wasn’t for me, and I pointed he never did that for me in the past. Was he opening the possibility of going home with another guy that night? He told me he shaved his body because he doesn’t like to take his shirt off with a hairy body and said the underwear was just a coincidence. He is a bad liar, so he stumbled over the underwear part. I had him figured out, and he didn’t know how to handle it.

Even now, after time has passed, I get emotional writing this and thinking about his mindset. I was obviously more invested in the relationship, but I had no idea the extent. The first morning he woke up in my bed, we talked about how much fun we had the night before and how compatible we were. However, he jokingly added, “Just don’t fall in love with me.” I should have heeded those words, and it’s my fault for falling for someone who was not as emotionally available.

The NYC Pride Parade was back, and this year I was much more comfortable with my sexuality. Last year, I got trapped in the middle of the parade with my parents — my worst nightmare. I couldn’t wait to get out of there. This year, I made an effort to attend.

We all woke up late that morning and I felt sick, which threw a wrench in our plans to catch the tail end of the parade before Boston hopped back on a bus to Boston. We grabbed breakfast in Hoboken, and I became very ill, spending a fair amount of time in the restroom. I was only able to eat half my sandwich. I had a lot to drink the night before, so I chalked it up to a hangover.

Afterwards, we journeyed into the city. We walked around a bit, and then said goodbye to Boston.

N asked what I wanted to do and told me he wanted to grab drinks. He contacted some of his friends he knew were in the city. Finally, two coworkers responded, so we decided to grab drinks and lunch with them.

As we all entered the bar, older creepy men were checking N out. One of N’s coworkers pointed out we were both given the up downs. I was a little creeped out by it, but N thrived on the attention. That really turned me off. I was starting to see a side of N I had never seen before, and I didn’t like what I was seeing. At one point, I went to the bathroom. I knew I would be the topic of conversation while I was gone. When we were walking to dinner later, N pulled me aside and told me they asked if we were dating. I wanted to ask him what his response was, but I wasn’t feeling myself. No words came out. He then gave me a peck on the cheek. We were in Chelsea for Pride Weekend. This is the time he could be very affectionate and open, and the only sign of affection I received all day was a tiny peck on the cheek. The guy from the night before got more action than me.

As the day progressed, I became less and less attracted to N. The way he reacted to some of the more disturbing stories recounted at dinner really threw me for a loop. We ordered dinner, and of course, I couldn’t eat it. Between the alcohol and the emotional turmoil, I felt awful. At one point, one of N’s coworkers mouthed across the table, “Are you okay?” I told him I was just really tired from the night before.

When dinner ended, N wanted to continue drinking. It was Sunday night, and I was beat, as were his coworkers. Begrudgingly, he agreed to come back to Hoboken and back to my apartment. When we were one block from my apartment, N reached down and held my hand. It was a very romantic gesture, but too little too late. As we came in sight of his apartment, he released my hand. This romantic gesture lasted all of thirty seconds.

When we got back to my apartment, I decided it was time to tell him about my blog. It was his right to know, and I needed to know if it upset him before I continued. He was shocked to hear about it, but told me he didn’t care and wasn’t going to read it. So, to all my faithful readers, the show goes on. I also came clean about the extent of my relationship with the 40 year-old. I did this because I lied to him about the interaction, but was truthful in my blog. I wanted him to hear the truth from my mouth, not a computer screen. This upset him immensely, which I couldn’t understand. It all happened before I met him. However, he apparently had some background information about this man and was holding it against me. I tried to defend myself, but he didn’t want to hear it. It bothered me that he was so upset, but I couldn’t undo the past.

At that point, we started to watch porn. The computer was out, and I suppose we needed to break the tension. I never did this with Broadway, but I was open to the idea with N. However, he got overly excited by this. He started about how he’d love to be a porn star. Once again, I was losing the attraction to the man in front of me. This was not the guy I fell for. I still had no idea what happened to cause the switch, but something was very different with him.

All of a sudden, we were interrupted by the sound of fireworks. We completely forgot about them. We ran to the balcony to watch. In the middle of all the explosions, I burst out with, “So are we exclusive?”

The next few moments were a blur, but I do know the gist of answer was no. I could understand if we weren’t exclusive up to that point, but I couldn’t fathom not being exclusive going forward.

When he explained his lack of interest in a monogamous relationship, I asked him if he has been sleeping with any other men since he met me. He told me of one guy he hooked up with after our third or fourth date. They exchanged blowjobs, but when this other man told him he was kind of in a relationship, N decided it better to be just friends. (This is also one of the guys he and I were possibly going to meet up with earlier that day.)

I couldn’t understand his rational. If he didn’t want to be “the other man,” why was he willing to seek out another man himself. What we had was pretty great, but he was leaving the door open for himself. If something better came along, he would upgrade. When I expressed this to him, he asked, “Upgrade to what?” I immediately responded, “A better situation.” It was so simple to me, how could he not understand that? I felt so used! He explained he wasn’t seeking out other men, but that didn’t make it any better. I already couldn’t trust him, and I had a pretty strong feeling he was lying.

I felt awful. Like someone stabbed me with a knife. Before the conversation, I knew what his answer was going to be, but hearing him say no broke my heart all over again. I was a shell of a human being.

After we finished talking, we went inside and had sex, and I finally got to have my way with him — All the way this time, not just the tip. It was pretty good too, but ended quickly due to N’s lack of experience.

In my mind, things were beginning to end between us. It’s almost as if that night was our breakup sex. I was pleased to know I got it in at least once before we broke up. I don’t know why, but it felt fulfilling. That’s how I knew it was over. I lost the emotional connection to the man who days earlier I was falling in love with.

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