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.

 

 

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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.