#GayMenAreTrash

I’m sad today, and my two avid readers may know that I like to wallow in my sadness for a bit. This is likely because I enjoy coming back out of the sadness and into the light – there’s no better feeling. That probably says a lot about me, but right now I’m not keen to listen to what it has to say about me.

This week I went to my friend’s book launch and I was intending to write about how inspiring it was and how beautiful she is as a strong, young author, brave enough to openly write about all the pain and heartbreak she’s been through. Instead, on Thursday, minding my own business, I found out that the guy I’d been seeing made out with one of my friends last weekend while I was in bed, getting some sleep on before my shift in the paediatric ward the next morning.

The Saturday Dr Body came over and told me my friend had quite the night at the gay club the previous night. I asked him about the hot gossip. Anyone I would know? No, just some boys I didn’t know. He must have forgotten that they swapped saliva – he admitted to it very quickly and was very sorry when I asked him about it after a lunch where a friend asked me if I was okay with it. No. I was not. We may not have been exclusive, but friends are off limits early in a new relationship aren’t they? And lying to my face is ALWAYS a no go.

So Friday early evening a friend came over to console me with snacks and wine. After I told him the story, he proceeded to actually breaking my heart. He too, had made out with Dr Body. On my birthday. On my couch. While I was sleeping off the celebrations.  In. My. Own. House.

And also kept it from me. For over a month.

Now, this isn’t good for my self-esteem. And it’s not good for us as a community. There is no trust. Only tears and anger. Only lies and filth.

Would You Hold It Against Me?

Thankfully, I think, the answer is often yes. When I want their bodies, they’re sometimes willing to hold them against me. But now I’m wondering, is that all there is?

I’m whining about something which I think will probably make a lot of gays say “so what?”. For many around me the casual hookup is the dream. I mean, I’m not knocking it, I’ve enjoyed my fair share of them and regularly accept the rush it affords as one of life’s ultimate experiences.

Why then, does it bother me sometimes when the hookup is as far as it goes? I’ll tell you – it’s when there was an expectation.

I went on a lovely date last weekend with arguably one of the most attractive men I’ve ever met. I mean god damn, this boy is everyone’s type. The date was good, albeit a bit awkward because we share an ex and now a friendship group as well, and then there’s the fact that I’m socially inept and not equipped to be left alone with someone that looks so damn fine. Anyway, I won’t bore anyone with the details, but it lasted many hours and spanned over three locations. The next evening he invited me over for dinner after I left my long ass shift at the hospital and I got to experience even more of his gorgeous self than the previous day. Then as if out of nowhere, it kinda fizzled…

I barely heard from him Tuesday through Friday afternoon. He was hosting our weekly Drag Race viewing on Friday evening so I mean I had to see him there. I arrived, we all drank and ate and collectively yelled at the TV when Shangela was snubbed. We drank some more and then went to a local club – more on the horrible straight homophobia at our prestige gay venue that night in a later post – and then things got interesting.

He kissed me a few times in front of all our friends, I only initiated some of the make-outs, bought me a drink and I ended up spending the night in his bed. It was a really nice time. I left his place yesterday morning and haven’t heard from him since. It’s been a week, and I’m reading too much into this and it shouldn’t bother me this much already, but it does.

It does because I can read people pretty well, and I think there’s some crazy sexual chemistry between us, but I think that may be all there is. And also because going on dates and a purely physical relationship are not things that go together in my book. I keep them separate exactly because I know that my little romantic heart can’t deal with them at the same time.

This is also too close on the heals of last year’s two big emotional blows, both of which I’ve written about already.

Now, at the same time that I’m kinda sad that it’s turning out this way, I have two other feelings about it. He’s so hot. So hot that I’m kind of just filled with pride that he was even willing to have me stay over. The other thought is that I simply can’t be in a relationship – I just don’t know how to do it anymore and I’m absolutely terrified of them now.

Anyway, I didn’t know where this post was going to end when I started, but this seems as good a place as any. Here’s to hoping I become better at “humaning” asap.

In The Zone

I don’t want to write about this, because inevitably someone will read it and put two and two together. Chances are if we’re friends I’ve already told you about this and you’ll know exactly what and who this is about within minutes.

The title is not an intentional Britney reference, the zone I’m in is if the less fun variety – the friend zone.

So, like most of my writing over the past few years, this post is about a boy. Yeah, another one – I meet many, none of them remain important for very long.

This boy has been in my life for a few months now and when we first met we went on two dates – he told me after the second one ended with my spending the night, that we weren’t gonna happen. He quoted timing, which is probably a bullshit story, but I was chilled with it because he was younger than me and not out to the world, something that has become somewhat of a deal breaker over the years after many experiences of having to keep things secret. Anyway, needless to say, conversation died out for a couple of weeks.

After some time, he texted me and we met for coffee. It was casual and we became friendly. Now he’s been to my place a number of times, sometimes he’ll even spend the night. He’s met a bunch of my friends.  He met my ‘open relationship’ friends and that’s when it really occurred to me – I would be super jealous if they hooked up with him. Fuck.

He’s still not really out and he’s obviously still younger than I am. This seems to be more of a background thing to me recently though. I may have caught some feels – just like a teeny bit – and they’re annoying me.

Now the age old dilemma stares me in the face. Do I say something and risk rejection (probably one of my biggest fears) or do I just continue as if nothing has changed? I’m being silly and I’m well aware of that, but I really don’t know how to be a grown up in these situations. I’m only 24 and I like to pretend I’ll still a teenager and nothing I do has consequences.

 I’m leaving town for seven weeks, starting two weeks from now. I’m kind of hoping it all sorts itself out before I get back.

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?

 

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.

 

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.

Exes and Ohs

When a relationship ends things tend to be a little awkward. If you do the breaking up then the other party inevitably hates you for a period of time, even if they still love you. That seemed like a juxtaposition, but I’m sure many people have experienced this very weird emotional position – an example that I experience all the time is my folks, they annoy the hell out of me sometimes with their old-timey views and lack of understanding of things happening around them, but of course I still love them. When I’m broken up with, or even when I break up with someone, I feel something similar to this. I just can’t really go back to the person after I cool down and say sorry, I love you. But can you, after a cool-down period, go back and give them a a different kind of love? Can exes be friends?

Usually I’d say no. I’m fantastically good friends with some girls I dated way back when in primary school, because I have since come out, and anything in primary school can’t actually count when you’re in your twenties, right? Right. There are, however, no guys from my past that I’m actually properly friends with. I’ll see some of them out now and again, or send or receive a text from one if we need to discuss something specific. But friends? No, I still refer to them as ‘my ex’, not ‘my friend’.

This past weekend I had yet another birthday party with a theme – ‘Squares and Drapes’. If you don’t know what that theme entails, it’s from some Johnny Depp movie made in 1990. Anyway, I didn’t know what to wear and one of the very few people I knew was going to be there, was an ex. I sent him a text the morning of asking what I should wear, what I really wanted to gauge was if it was going to be an awkward evening or not. Turns out we’re fine now, almost two years after we broke up. I’m sure it helped that he’s been in a year-long relationship with someone new, even if it’s long distance. He seemed happy and we got along just fine.

The only hiccup was when I had to explain why I did not go to his birthday party a few months ago, even though quite a few of my friends ended up going. I said it was because I felt like I was the obligatory invite, the guy you invite because you feel like it’s the right thing to do – it’s the absolute worst when they actually end up coming. This explanation was mostly true. I also just didn’t feel like a room full of attractive gay guys when I’ve really been letting myself go for the last six months or so.

So that went well – we’re still not going to be in the business of inviting each other out to coffee or clubbing though. Still just ‘my ex’.

Now, some people may or may not remember Ben from at least two of my other recent posts. We vibed for like a month, that’s no time at all. I developed a semblance of feelings very quickly though, possibly just because I hadn’t had any for anyone in quite some time. Well whatever the reason for my ridiculous affections, they were there. Now it’s his birthday this coming weekend and lo and behold, he’s having a party. It’s Halloween themed – apt. Not only because it’s Halloween on Saturday (also JHB gay pride that day by the way), but because I’m terrified of going. I’ve been checking the Facebook event and many of my friends are going. So is Gaysian, from my extended play post.

The reason I’m terrified, is because we were never friends and we were never together, but we kind of broke up. We haven’t texted in weeks and it’s awkward when we run into each other, unlike the ex that I saw last week. I don’t want to go and be awkward and I don’t want to not go because then it’s obvious that I’m not going because I dread seeing him. Is it obvious?

Anyway, he invited 150 people. He’s personally told me that he dislikes some of the people on his guest-list. Am I one of those people for real this time? The one that you feel you have to invite to be polite, but secretly you really hope they don’t come.

What’s the right move here? Do I go because my friends are going, do I go because I want to show him that I’m over it, or do I not go and risk being the guy that can’t be friends with a whole group of people because of one failed relationship attempt with a member of said group?

Did I burn a bridge here? Or if I haven’t burnt one, am I risking doing just that?

Friendship Whore

I had recently been called a friendship whore, and I was appalled. In the context it simply seemed to suggest that I had a few different groups of friends, so when I attended events I could not be counted on to be someone’s pillar and keep them company for the whole evening. That actually doesn’t sound so bad does it? Having quite a few friends could sometimes be considered a good thing.

The reason it upset me, not to my core, but on a rather superficial flesh wound kind of level, was because someone I like as a friend called me a Friendship Whore. I mean, there can be no good intent when calling someone any kind of whore, unless when quoting Mean Girls, and subtly letting someone know they’re part of your crew with a playful “Boo, you whore”.

I remembered the phrase in question this morning, while considering the weekend ahead – thinking where I had to go and who I was likely to see and what we might have to talk about. Halfway through my mental preparations it popped into my head –  “You’re such a friendship whore”. I considered this accusation and its validity, especially in a context where I was actually thinking ahead about what to say to different people at social events. I know that it’s really because of social anxiety and not wanting to have to improvise if I ran into someone that I had nothing to say to, but I think maybe it could come across as some form of friendship whoring.

Just to really be sure if I could be described as such a fiend, I did a quick internet search of the term. Of course. there is a certain not so official online dictionary that has a definition for this phrase, this title, this… insult. It is described as someone who pretends to be a nice person so that they can be your friend and your trusted confident, but then turns out to really not give a damn about you. Not only that, but the victim of the charade is then so deep in this whore’s grasp that they can never be angry enough to justify breaking off the friendship.

Now I’m a bit uncomfortable. Is this a status that I actually have among people? Worst of all, the one that first brought my attention to my whoring ways is in my class, one of my peers and someone that I see regularly and will have to see for at least three more years. This is fine. What’s not fine, is if other people agree, other people who are also my peers and who also have to be in my life for years to come.

Maybe I should simply embrace the idea and allow people to fall into my black widow-esque clutches from which there is no escape and build an army of devout, if not slightly sad and hurt, patrons of whoring.

I feel like maybe this is all coming off very dramatic and woe-is-me. I’ll mention that as much as this is a worry in my life, it’s not really a worry in my life. That makes total sense right? Good.