On the night of July 3rd, CK and I slept at his apartment. I had a beach bag packed to head to Fire Island the following day. I insisted if we were going to trek all the way out there, we needed to leave early in the morning to get a full day of it. We also decided to make an effort to come back to the city in time to view the fireworks from his rooftop. We made plans with one of my old roommates and his girlfriend. They were going to join us on his roof since he had such spectacular views of the Hudson River.
When we woke, the weather didn’t look like it was going to be the most cooperative. We checked the report, and there was a threat of thunderstorms all day long. We both agreed to nix the idea of going to the beach and decided to stay local instead. We lounged around his apartment all morning, watching TV and eating a light breakfast, all the while waiting for the rain. When lunch time rolled around, I was anxious to get out of the apartment. It still hadn’t rained, and it was shaping up to be a pretty beautiful day. While we both agreed we could have gone to the beach, we also agreed not going was nice too.
Recently, I broached the subject with him of spending habits. I realized I was spending a lot more money, especially going out to dinner. I proposed a plan to try to cook more and go out less. I didn’t want to keep spending money frivolously, and thought he was probably in the same boat. The topic was well received, and we agreed to make and effort to spend less money.
As we walked to lunch, we made a plan to grab something small and cheap. We ran a few of CK’s errands before finding a spot to grab lunch — Uncle Nick’s, a Greek restaurant in HK. This was not part of the plan. Everything was a bit more expensive than a $5 sandwich. CK reminded me of our frugal conversation, and pointed out this place was not part of the plan. However, since all the portions were larger, I pointed out that this could serve as our dinner as well. We could take the leftovers home and eat them before the fireworks. It would work out nicely since we ate such a late lunch.
This worked out perfectly. We did swing by the grocery store to grab a few snacks for his rooftop to supplement our lunch/dinner. We grabbed chips, humus, cookies and supplies to make sangria. Before digging into making sangria, we decided to check out the scene on the roof. We wanted to know what we were getting ourselves into. CK lived in a large apartment building, and the roof certainly wasn’t going to hold all the residents, especially if they were bringing guests like me. Much to our surprise, it was still fairly sparse, but we knew that wouldn’t last long.
We quickly went downstairs to gather our things so we could lay claim to a prime fireworks viewing spot. As we made sangria, I reached out to two friends who were to be joining us, but they weren’t going to be able to make it. Looked like it was just going to be the two of us. That, and his roommate and the harem of friends he gathered for the night.
We made it back upstairs in time to lay out a blanket and enjoy a drink as the sun set. I was enjoying some quality time with my man before the crowd showed up. After some time, he had to run back downstairs. Of course, he disappeared for quite some time. I was sitting there alone trying to fend for our spot as more and more people arrived. Slowly but surely, his roommate and his friends started showing up. Of course, they assumed we were holding a spot for them, so I was surrounded by them on the blanket — Still no CK. This was not how I wanted to spend the night.
Finally, he came back. By then, the roof was fairly full. Shortly after, the fireworks began. Well, at least I think the fireworks began. CK’s roommate assured us the building had a prime view of the fireworks. He informed us he’d watched them from the roof the year before. LIES! All lies! We couldn’t see the fireworks at all. Immediately, there was both a mass movement forward toward the river to get a better view and a mass exodus out of the building to head to the river. CK and I tried to maneuver the roof to gain a better vantage point. When I turned around, he wasn’t following me.
In the chaos, I wasn’t able to find him again. I looked all over, standing on planters to see over the crowd. I tried calling him, but he wasn’t answering. I assumed he went downstairs, and to be honest, I was pissed. I assumed he abandoned me in an attempt to better view the fireworks. The elevators were overrun with people. I descended the twenty-five floors until I reached the ground floor. Because I didn’t have a building access card, I was a bit trapped. My only option was to walk back up to the top floor. I tried calling and calling, but still, CK was not picking up. When I got back to the roof, I managed to find CK. I explained what happened, and he explained how he was unable to find me. I was disappointed because the romantic night I was hoping for had gone to sh*t. This would be yet another fourth of disappointment. We had a fun day together, and I really enjoyed it. But, I wanted romantic fireworks with my man for our first Fourth of July together.
When the crowd thinned out, we managed to find a decent vantage point. Of course, we got b*tched out by a girl, who after investigation we learned was not a resident of the building. Although our night wasn’t quite as romantic as it could have been, another couple was having an incredibly romantic night. A man was proposing to his girlfriend via a presentation on his iPad. It was very touching and made me realize the night was a success just being with CK. I needed to stop thinking about the perfect picture I had in my head and just go with it.
When the fireworks ended, we made our way down to his apartment. The alcohol was flowing, among other things, and all his “roommates” were already home causing a raucous. When we moved into CK’s bedroom to escape the party a bit, it slowly but surely moved into the room as well. I wasn’t thrilled. Slowly but surely, they piled in, one by one. I inched my way further and further up the bed until I was sufficiently pressed against the wall to make room for more “roommates.”
That’s when it happened. I was so incredibly disappointed. CK and I discussed in detail how uncomfortable certain situations made me, and he breached that comfort level quite drastically. I wanted to be anywhere but there. I wanted to go home. I completely shut down. He made me so incredibly minuscule by ignoring the entire lengthy conversation we’d shared about this very subject. I wasn’t exactly being forthcoming about what made me so upset. The fact that he was so clueless about why I was so upset only made it worse. He actually thought I had cheated on him and didn’t know how to tell him. He couldn’t have been further off base.
I just wanted to leave, but I knew there was no way I would be able to make it home before the sun rose in the sky with all the crowds. Luckily, everyone began to file out of the room naturally. I laid there with my back to CK crying myself to sleep. He tried to comfort me and made excuses, but it was no use. The damage was done. He knew how I felt about this, and he selfishly did what he wanted anyway. This was not how someone treats you when they love you.
My head was spinning. Because I was worried I would have to let him go, the tears streamed more and more. I’d reached the last straw. I wasn’t ready to talk about it that night because I wanted a clear head when we talked about it for the last time. That night, we’d have to go to bed with tension in the air.
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I nailed down plans to meet Connecticut Cutie after work that Tuesday night. He told me he’d be in my neighborhood, so it would work out well.
He ended up running late from dinner with friends, so I stayed in the office and did a little blogging until he was ready. When I go the call that he was on the corner, I went down to meet him.
My favorite date spot in the city lately has been The Breslin, so I suggested we go there. It’s a short walk from my office, and we had great flirtatious conversation on the walk there. He joked about going to a psychologist for mother issues, and I made more than a few Oedipal comments in jest. I told him I don’t go to a therapist nor need one because I have free therapy sessions all the time. I use my friends for that service. I’m sure they all just love to hear all about my problems and issues, but hell. What are friends for?
We also talked about our days at work. I had a very easy day involving a lot of personal work with just a little professional work.
When we got to The Breslin, it was very crowded. I couldn’t believe how many people were there on a Tuesday night. We had a hard time finding a seat, so he ordered drinks at the bar while I tried to hold some ground in the corner. I was standing next to some of the most obnoxious men I’d ever met. You could tell they were a real “boys’ club” type, making lewd comments. I knew it was only a matter of time before I heard the f@ggot term thrown out. I decided to move away from the group before they p*ssed me off more.
I ordered my usual dark and stormy, and he followed my lead. He’d never had it before, and I told him it was a good winter drink. He tasted it, and was happy with his selection.
FInally a table opened up, so we jumped on it. Space was limited, so we sat with our legs intertwined. This was good body language once again and made it easy for a little leg touching. Our conversation was going very well. We were both telling stories and laughing a lot. I told him about how much I get into Halloween and started showing him pictures from Facebook. He was shocked because he never got into the holiday. It was always something haphazard and last-minute for him.
Throughout the course of the night, there was a lot of leg touching. It was nice because we could flirt in this way without making a spectacle of ourselves. The only people who had a view of this were the bartenders, and I didn’t care if they noticed. It was mutual. As much as I was rubbing his legs, he was rubbing mine.
When he needed to use the facilities, I told him how to get there. I joked about the long journey he’d have to make through the basement of the hotel. He looked at me like I was insane. I equated it to backlot Disney. When he returned, he detailed his journey through the underground labyrinth he encountered. He detailed the myriad of characters he passed on his journey and joked about how strenuous it was. I liked his sense of humor. It was all something I would say. We were meshing well.
However, I was still having a hard time getting past the flamboyance. I had a feeling he was holding back some as well. I liked the guy quite a bit, but I also wanted a real man, not a man who acted in a feminine manner. The distance thing was still in the back of my mind. The vetting process was far from over. I’d have to continue to see where things went and evaluate if it was worth the extra effort.
I hadn’t eaten any dinner, so I ordered some fries from the bar. We joked about working out and my being fat as of late. I know I’m far from fat, but there is a certain level that is fat for me. I don’t like it, and it makes me want to eat better and work out more.
After three dark and stormies, when I brought it to his attention, he realized he needed to make his way to the train. If he missed it, he’d have to wait another hour for the next. I told him I’d walk him half way — Basically back to my office. He needed to stop at the bank along the way, but we also really needed to hustle. When we got to my office, I told him I’d walk him one more avenue before heading home. When we got to Fifth Avenue, we embraced on the corner. We started kissing, and this quickly turned into a bit of a makeout session. He was a great kisser, so I didn’t mind one bit. I was starting to worry he’d miss his train. We’d already joked about how his parents extended his curfew for the evening. I knew they’d be royally p*ssed if he made them pick him up at midnight.
It was comical as we both acknowledged the other’s hardon as we pulled back. We were both really enjoying each other’s company. I said goodbye, and he sped off to Grand Central Station.
I made my way home, and made it a point to text him and tell him how much I enjoyed myself that evening. I learned he did in fact make the train and would get home at a decent hour. He responded, and I could tell he was really into me. I needed to make a decision fast, or I would risk really hurting him. But, I still wasn’t sure. I had a lot to think about. I would be traveling to Chicago for work, so this would allow me time apart and time to think about what I really want.
We talked about possibly getting together over the weekend, possibly in Hoboken. I knew once that happened, things were going to escalate fast. I already knew he had a great body from his revealing pictures on a4a. I knew he had a healthy sex drive, so that wouldn’t be an issue. I just needed to decide if the flamboyance thing was something I could get over — Something I could either look past or fully embrace. It wasn’t my style, but after all, I was constantly expanding my horizons…
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