Is Anything Really Forever

You know how people become different when they start dating? Sure you do. And I’m sure you’re also that person that says you’ll never change or suddenly become an “us” instead of an “I”. Your identity will never become so fused with that of another  person that you’ll be obsolete without them. I’m that guy, and I thought my best friend was as well.

If you know me, and if you do and you’re reading this let’s agree to never speak about it, then you know that I publicly have little to no feelings. Nothing really bothers me deeply and if it does it goes away quickly or gets bottled up – like any sane person would do. But this one thing has been bothering me for the past 7 months or so, ever since my forever-alone bestie was suddenly no longer forever alone, but madly in love with someone who I’m not really allowed to hang out with.

She always told me how she hates when people suddenly lose themselves in relationships and shirk all other interpersonal responsibilities, but here we are months later and suddenly with the most superficial relationship ever. I hate it, but I can’t confront her about it, because last time I tried, she turned it all on me and made the Villain. It speaks volumes that this came as no surprise.

I feel like this whole blog is me complaining. Woe is me, right? Anyway, I won’t complain too much more in this post. I guess I was just wondering if this is normal. Do you get rid of your friends when your new boyfriend is too insecure to let you hang out with your gay best friend? Or is it okay that, when you’re suddenly in a happy relationship, you leave everyone else behind to fend for themselves?

 

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Ennui

No that’s not an error. This post is about ennui, about Weltschmerz. That feeling of boredom with life and the world and your situation, the one that you can’t shake and that doesn’t seem to stem from anywhere specific.

Before you ask, no, I’m not depressed, I’m not even sad. I’m just a little disheartened maybe. Perhaps it’s just a world weariness from being caught up in the same kind of thing over and over. Just scroll back and you’ll see that not only is the same thing happening to me – or am I just doing the same thing over and over? -, but I’m sure I’ve written about having a similar kind of feeling before. Let me just apologise again right now, before you’ve read the whole thing – I promised more of an anecdote this time round, but nothing’s really happened since this morning, maybe I’ll intersperse this post with some real life examples, maybe not, I don’t plan these things, the words come as they please.

I’ve been listening to the new Lorde album today and it’s possible that her influence, paired with my unwillingness to study for this week’s exams has me feeling a particular sense of meh. It’s also possible that I’ve been feeling this way for a while, but that it’s been masked by other things while I mired in a weird state of being after my latest experience with feelings for a boy. I mean who really knows what brings these things to the forefront?

So, what do I do about feeling trapped in a world that is currently just not exciting? The only change I’ve made so far is writing two blog posts in one day for the first time in probably years, and to log out of Instagram. I do think social media probably plays a big role in my, and many other people’s, feeling of ennui. There’s this instant satisfaction that we have come to expect, and I think posting a picture and having hundreds of people seeing you and validating you may not be that healthy. For one thing, it’s just not real. I’ve definitely commented on this before, but that hasn’t stopped me from posting pictures, Boomerangs and meeting boys off of Grindr. I deleted that today as well,  by the way, but before you congratulate me, let’s see how long I last before I need the validarion of strangers again. Having said that, as much as a like on a post on here makes me feel good, that’s not what my blog is for – this is a pretty anonymous platform for me to vent in a semi-intellectual space, Instagram and Grindr are all about physicality and superficial ideals that I don’t necessarily fulfill, but that the gay community above all others kind of forces upon me and everyone else.

Did I lose my point somewhere in the jumble about social media, or does that jumble of seemingly irrelevant commentary just mirror what’s happening online and in our collective millennial psyche? I am a proud millennial by the way, I am in no way writing about how incorrectly we’re living our lives or how we seem to be screwing up everything the generations before us built up, go read something that still prints physical copies if that’s what you’re looking for.

Maybe I just need a break from spaces where I can see that people are doing more exciting things than I am – not just celebrities and heiresses but people I used to know. Isn’t it utterly annoying to see what people are up to when you haven’t spoken to them in years or maybe even ever, but you know everything about them?

Maybe I just need to transition fully from being a teenager to an adult. This is difficult, I’m still studying at 24. I’ve never had a real job or any responsibility and my parents still pay for everything, even though I’ve moved out of their house. Do you ever find yourself thinking about what you want your future-self to be like only to realise that many of these future-self goals are actually completely possible right now?

My future self has to be healthier, nicer and happier. Healthier? I buy my own groceries and cook my own food. I have a gym membership and can make my own decisions about what I order at restaurants. I still make the wrong choices and excuses to not go to gym. Nicer? I make snarky remarks and speak in sarcastic comments, mostly not intended to do harm or be hurtful, but I’m well aware that with just a bit of effort I could be nicer. When in my future exactly am I planning to start trying? Happier? Like I mentioned, I’m not unhappy, I’m just not reaching my goals in life and that makes me anxious.

Making an active decision to be all the things you want to be is probably the best thing to do. Maybe I should read one of those self empowerment books that I always pull faces at the thought of, or maybe I should just make an effort and change small things one at a time until I’m satisfied. Or maybe, in true twenty-something fashion, I’m doomed to feel ennui regardless of what U do, until I’m older and wiser.

 

Internalizing

I feel like the subject of my most recent post has just been in my face and in my thoughts ever since I wrote it. It’s inescapable and it comes up when I see my couple-friends and even when I don’t, by way of social media in its many forms.

I saw them again this weekend, obviously, we’re good friends. After pre-gaming we went to a local hangout, where we ran into the fuckboy again. I mean, it’s not that unexpected or even as much of an issue as it would have been some time ago. We’re civil, and as I told his bestie while super drunk, and most likely completely against her will, that’s all we need. There was a bit more to this story, but that’s not what this post is about.

Honestly, I’m not completely sure what this post is all about. Half the couple just mentioned to me that they were unaware of my feelings for and concerning fuckboy. I was told that I internalize. Now that made me wonder if that’s what I do. I post on here about my complete emotional instability all the time, or at least occasionally. But do I actually speak to the people in my life about what’s going on with me? I guess not.

I’m a very open person. People know a lot about me, they know what happens in my life but they very rarely know how I feel about the things that they know bout. Then it freaks me out when someone assesses me as internalizing or as sensitive or really any adjective that describes a part of me that I didn’t actively share with them. Maybe that’s why I share so much? To overload news cycle, take attention away from what I’d rather not dwell on. It’s been known to work in certain recent political campaigns both locally and abroad.

Look at me pretending that I know anything about the human psyche. Two weeks of psychiatry hasn’t really equipped me to even deal with my own issues. Dear reader, thanks for sticking around through my absolutely ridiculous self-reflection, I promise the next one will be an anecdote with some more flesh.

Peer Review: Yes or No?

I’ve always considered myself to be open to new things. I’m quite adventurous when it comes to certain things, but last night I had to draw the line.

So essentially the thing that I stopped, or rather hope that I stopped, wasn’t going to be adventurous for me, but instead would have been a heart’breaking situation. I’m sure you’re thinking: “Good on you for stopping it then, well done”. And I agree, I’m glad I stopped it. What I’m not crazy about is the fact that I felt the need to.

Long story short, there was this fuckboy that I developed feelings for, like strong ones in a short period of time and it ended a couple of months ago. Said fuckboy was introduced to me by two friends of mine, a couple. This couple is in an open relationship of sorts and we’ve experimented with each other – all for science of course.

Remember the fuckboy? Well he’s rather gorgeous and as much as my feelings for him have waned, I do still have a weird little place for him in my heart. Ew, if anyone ever asks, I don’t have one of those and feelings are for losers, kay? Anyway, I saw fuckboy for the first time in about three months last night, along with my science partners and other friends. Of course, as soon as this beautiful man arrives, my subjects of investigation wander off with him. He’s mighty fine, they’re mighty into research and I got mighty jealous and maybe a little bit sad.  I went off to find another friend to see if my feelings were justified, she of course, being as amazing as she is, said they were and told me to speak to the instigator of all forays into science.

I spoke to him and it was uncomfortable. Picture telling someone just how much you were hurt by their friend, for the sole purpose of asking them to not sleep with him, but at the same time telling them to tell you immediately if it were to happen, just so you can torture yourself over it for months to come if it ever did happen. He did tell me that he’d respect my wishes, even though he thought stuff like that doesn’t bother me – he clearly has never read any of my posts.

Well, I guess we’ll see what happens. At least cards are all on the table, but hopefully fuckboy wont be.

 

To Fuckboy or not to Fuckboy …

The title really does say it all, but I guess I’ll fill up this post with some more meat. Punny.

Recently I got involved with a guy who I knew was a fuckboy from the get go. We banged on the first night after both having made out with multiple other guys in front of each other. So maybe I’m not painting myself in the best light here either. Just thinking back to that night and actually every encounter we had after that, it’s shocking that I was ever under the impression that we could be a couple.

I was kind of head over heels for this boy, he is gorgeous and charming, but most of them are. He didn’t treat me particularly well, but maybe that’s kind of what was great about it – he wasn’t trying very hard. He wasn’t clingy or annoyed that I didn’t text all the time. Jokes, I actually did most of the initiation when it came to texting or doing things, I think he invited me to do things maybe three times. One of those times was a dinner at his house where I met two of his siblings and then spent the night, something he later said was too ‘real’ and felt too much like I was his boyfriend. He did however introduce me to his friends as his ‘boy’ the previous evening at a party. Damn, this boy really is a classic fuckboy hey.

Anyway, I’ve fallen into this FB trap before, funnily enough with a boy that made out with the most recent one only a week or two after we met, while we were out together. I make absolutely great decisions.

Some friends have decided that maybe, just maybe I might be an FB myself, which honestly I didn’t enjoy at first. I struggled with the concept at the same time that I had to struggle with just being “broken up with” by the boy mentioned above.

It took about two weeks to really get over this boy – we only hooked up for a month – but by the end of the two weeks I had also accepted being called a fuckboy myself, not because I actually think I exhibit the classic qualities, but because I think maybe we all have a little of FB in us.  And is that such a massive issue? I’ve treated boys like this one treated me, and thought nothing of it. It’s only now that I actually developed feelings and had my heart semi crushed that I realise it’s absolute bullshit. That being said though, we’re all probably just a bit broken from a previous experience or what the general gay community seems to value above all else, sex. How do we build real relationships or even casual ones when we don’t really know what’s socially okay?

The question remains, to fuckboy or not? To get with one and risk actually developing feelings even though you know it’ll end in tears, or even to be one when you risk just destroying your relationships and gaining a reputation that’s difficult to shake. There is no real answer here, and you should know by now that I never really have one, I pose questions to the world at large hoping that I’ll learn something from my own writing and maybe learn to not be the worst, by spotting the worst in myself through my experiences with others. Deep.

Non-Scene

I’ve spent my entire gay life as a non-scener, someone that doesn’t go to gay bars, clubs, pride parades and the like regularly. I’ve often wondered what it would be like to be one of those sceners, what it would be like to hang with my fellow gay guys and just be comfortable in my own skin and my own community. Somehow, every time I come close, it blows up in my face and I’m left feeling meh.

There’s something that happens to me when I’m in a room with a bunch of gay guys. I feel small and, as my ex boyfriend so eloquently described me, underwhelming. I’m not a gym bunny or a bear or a rich older man or a teenager that everyone is scrambling to get drunk and in bed. I’m kind of nothing in the gay world right now. I’m a student with a pretty normal, average body, alright hair and nothing else of particular note. I mean I’m pretty tall, but even that seems to not be in at the moment.

Have I passed my prime, or will the attention come back if I just change everything about myself? Or should I just wait until I graduate and can tell people I’m a doctor? That seems a bit pretentious but maybe worth a try and then worth the wait.

The essence of this post is really something that I think every gay man -and probably some of you others but this blog is aimed at gay men – experiences, maybe more often that we’d like to admit to anyone, even ourselves. We feel inadequate. We feel like we’re never attractive enough, fit enough, rich enough, stylish enough, extra enough, or too extra, too fat, too skinny, too boring, too tall, too short and the list just goes on, doesn’t it? I wish I could complain about this and be super unique and could cry about how no one understands. the reality is that it bothers so many people that reading this is probably boring, you’ve seen this all before, just like I have.

I find it incredibly protective to my self worth and image to just be a non-scener. Let’s just stay away from our triggers and become hermits that stay home and have pizza while watching series and smoking cigarettes and drinking wine. More than anything, let’s avoid going to gay venues and running into specific people that make us feel shitty. Fuck those guys.

 

A Guy

Hello… It’s me.

I haven’t written in so long that I haven’t even had the chance to make that horrible, now outdated, reference. There it is anyway. You’re welcome.

I’m that guy and I hate it.

I met a guy on Tinder about two days after a friend of mine told me that he liked this guy. Let’s call my friend Red and the Tinder guy, well let’s call him Tinder Guy.

So Red tells me over coffee that he met a guy on Tinder that he likes, but that doesn’t like him back. Or maybe that’s not true – they work at the same company so maybe they met there but somehow Tinder came up in the conversation? I’m not sure. Anyway it’s also not true that the guy doesn’t like him – he likes Red but isn’t physically attracted to him I guess. It’s complicated, but the tone of their texts seems pretty flirty to me.

So at first Red doesn’t want to show me the guy in question or tell me anything about him because apparently I’m his type. He then eventually shows me Tinder Guy’s picture and damn, he’s pretty fine. I resolve to not actively seek out this man – that would go against the rules of friendship and I’m not that person. I’m a grownup now after all.

Two days later I match with Tinder Guy. I must have swiped right before Red told me anything. Before I even have a chance to think about it, he sends me a message. So we chat a bit, he asks for my number and we text on another popular messaging app.

Problem. I’m enjoying the conversation.

So I told Red that we’re chatting and he says it’s all good since nothing was going to happen with them anyway. I know this is bullshit though, since I know Red and I know how I would feel. At the same time I also feel like I can pursue this very attractive and rather charming (in texts at least) guy since there was never a romantic connection between him and Red. This does feel like a bit of a dilemma, but we haven’t even met for coffee, so I still need to see where this goes before I question my morality and the possibility of me being an absolutely shitty friend.

Like I said, we haven’t met. We’ve been chatting for maybe two weeks and I’m writing my reproduction block exams on Monday and Tuesday, so the timing has not been ideal for a first date. First date? Do we even date in 2016? I’ve been single for about two years, so I’m unsure how this works. I have been out with guys though, it has not been a completely dry two years, don’t feel sorry for me now.

Anyway, the idea of a first date is freaking me out a little. I’m already nervous about it even though we are yet to formally decide on a time and place.What will I wear, will I be embarrassing, do I remember how to be charming, have I ever known how to be charming?

All these thoughts and more.

Confession Time

Here I go again, into territories that are not so uncharted. I spoke previously about an ex that I was thinking of seeing again, but I swiftly and skillfully avoided reconnecting. After considering all the variables at play, I realised that I just wasn’t up for a first date with someone that I had had at least twenty dates with before.

I’m happy with my decision to let it slide. Instagram is still around, so I get to see his ever more attractive face from the comfort of my own home, without having to worry about the inevitable repeat of whatever went wrong in 2013.

I’ve been minding my own business and enjoying my break from varsity these last two weeks – no boys, not in any serious way at least. There has been some flirting with guys whose numbers I already posses, and I visited an old acquaintance two weekends ago. Other than that, just me, series and Stephen King, and friends and family of course.

Last night I got a text from a guy that I hadn’t seen in months. He told me he was bored and I suggested we go out. He said he didn’t want to, which I found odd after a text out of the blue, simply claiming to be home and bored, but whatever. I was going to let it go and continue my movie binge watching, when I got an even weirder text from him. He led with “Confession Time” and proceeded to tell me that he used to like me a little. I mean, I knew he used to like me since we went out once or twice when I also thought that I used to like him.

I’m not sure why we saw each other so few times. Actually, as I typed that last thought, I remembered. He was still hung up on someone and I was still hung up on someone else. Sometimes I wonder if I still am…

He’s two years younger than me, which isn’t usually something I’d go for, but he’s attractive. Portuguese, dark, great hair. The age thing is a bit of a problem, because he says things and sometimes maybe does things that are a bit young. Is that really an issue though? Can’t that just be fun? I’m thinking that maybe it bothered me more than it should have.

Something else that kind of irritated the crap out of me was that he would wear shorts and sneakers, Nike of course, when we went out. That’s all good and well for a daytime thing, but not when we go to drinks and a movie at night and to a nice cocktail place.

The last thing that really annoyed me about him was that my best friend didn’t like him. She met him once, for like 20 minutes, but how could I date someone that doesn’t get along with a friend. Not only would I get constant shit from this friend, but the boy could never come out with us. Even if I was the only one to know about the dislike, it would be awkward – I would have to watch fake pleasantness and, in the slightly paraphrased words of Nicki Minaj “phony bitches would  front they chum-chummy”.

Why even write about some kid who messaged me out of the blue for a quick, random and slightly awkward chat? Well, because I’m seeing him tonight. We’re going to see the movie that I was meant to go and see with the re-return from the first part of this post.

I’m unsure if he told me that he used to like me to find out if I ever liked him, which I didn’t admit to last night, or if he wanted to know if we could possibly still happen. Otherwise he may have just felt like telling me for no particular reason – simply to put it out there and let me know that those feelings are in the past.

It doesn’t matter all that much since I have no idea if I have any feelings for him somewhere hidden within. But, having said that, what if I do? I should not have agreed to and encouraged the idea of the movie tonight, but it’s the last installment in the Hunger Games franchise and I really want to see it.

So I’ve essentially set myself up for an awkward evening where neither one of us is going to know if it’s meant to end in a kiss, a hug or a business-like salute from me and a very confused wave from him.

 

 

White Noise

Last weekend I was contacted by a previous regular hookup of mine. It had been a while since I had ventured into the land of subtle lighting with anyone, so I agreed to go to his place on the Sunday evening.

Usually I would go over and we’d exchange some meaningless chatter for a few minutes, less than 30 minutes I’d say, but this time was different. This boy, he happens to be two years older than I am and taller than me but I’ll refer to him as a boy ok?, leads me to his bedroom and we both lie down. Instead of chatter he looks at me and starts telling me about the guy he had recently broken up with. I had no idea he had been seeing someone so I was shocked and didn’t have a heartfelt response ready – anyway, I had something else on my mind and was never planning on being his emotional support that night.

I felt like the right thing to do was humour him and let him tell me some things that he needed to get off his chest. It couldn’t go on for more than a few minutes, right? Wrong. He told me that he had been seeing this guy for a year and a half – this was worrying, I hadn’t even known this boy, my hookup, for that long. Of course I felt like I had to bring this up. He assured me that he only saw me when he and his long term boy were on the rocks every now and again. Is that even okay? Shouldn’t I have been informed of the situation? A simple ‘Hey, so my boyfriend and I are taking a break, you cool with that?’ isn’t too much to ask is it? This especially bothers me since I do not want to wedge myself into these things. I try to stay out of typical gay community drama as much as possible – well, unless I stand to gain something that’s really worth the drama.

So after this lovely shocker, I’m actually ready to leave and not turn back as I walk off into the moonlight. Instead, I’m kind of trapped because I’ve only been in there for about 5 minutes and my apparent new best friend wasn’t showing signs that he had any plans to either stop talking about his love life or to undress any time soon.

The chat ended up lasting about three hours, no jokes. He told me that he was in love with this guy, but he’s my age, so probably too young to understand love and that screwed it all up. I was indignant at that, but couldn’t argue about the naivety of the very early twenties. Let’s call the guy I went to see A, just to rule out some ambiguity. So A tells me that he is planning on moving into an apartment block closer to campus, I think that might have happened since I saw him actually. Not only does he ask me to help him move??? but he also mentions that his ex used to stay in this block. I assured him that all would be well since the ex had moved out, but I was also clearly very busy so I couldn’t help him move.

I don’t even really know what to say here. Clearly it’s a bad idea to move into the same building your ex used to stay in. A went to visit this ex there countless times and the ex’s brother still lives there. Lying about it working out fine was the only way for me to actually get around this topic. Telling him I couldn’t help him move… I don’t think I need to justify that.

I won’t mention specifics about the rest of this long rant that I had to sit through, I think I made my point.

What I do want to mention is how awkward it is to go over with one thing in mind and instead being told how the love of his life is no longer there. I mean, we still got around to hooking up, but what on earth is the world coming to?

 

 

Slim Pickings

It happened. I passed my prime, and I spoiled it.

So not much was happening on the dating front – the re-return had inevitably gone stale, even though he texted me again first, and the extended play, well he was always out of my league.

So tonight, it’s now two-thirty am, we went to Babylon, the very same gay club that I’ve mentioned before. The night started off slowly, the place was pretty empty, but it got full by midnight. My friends kept urging me to hook up with someone, and I kept saying there was no one that caught my eye. Lies. There were many potentials, but none of them seemed interested at all. I’m shy when it comes to club hookups, and I’m also not really keen on the whole one night stand idea, but come on, usually at least one or two guys try to hit on me.

I’m 22, which means the sweet spot for a gay social life has passed me by – the sweet spot being from 16 to 21. Our fresh faced younger “straight” friend, who I’ve always suspected, got free drinks and guys wanting him to leave with him. He’s 21, but with his perfect face and care-free demeanor he could pass for 17.

I’ve always known that gay years don’t exactly correspond with the normal passing of time, and I knew that if I wanted to settle down, I’d have to do it sooner rather than later, but hell, I never knew being 22, and by some accounts a catch, would translate as me leaving the party alone every night for the rest of time. I mean sure. I can still hook up on Grindr, or Tinder or whatever, but even those desperate guys seem content to only speak to me for one day and then forget about it.

I even skipped the traditional McD’s after a night out and am planning to run until I puke tomorrow, because I’m terrified of not even being attractive and young enough for a casual night of, well, you know.

I’m currently convinced that all those forever alone memes were created not only for me, but for all the old and decrepit gays out there that are older than 21.

Is this the end of my sex life and the end of my search for someone to spend my life with? It might sound melodramatic, but I looked banging tonight, and no one seemed to care.