NEVER Say Never...

"I'll NEVER have sex with a man..."
"I'll NEVER have sex with a man without a condom..."
"I'll NEVER suck dick..."
"I'll NEVER cry over a dude..."
"I'll NEVER have a one night stand..."
"I'll NEVER fuck somebody I'm not attracted to..."
"I'll NEVER have a threesome..."
"I'll NEVER have a foursome..."
"I'll NEVER catch an STD..."
"I'll NEVER catch that STD again..."
"I'll NEVER cheat on my boyfriend..."
"I'll NEVER be stupid for a guy..."
"I'll NEVER sleep with someone who has a boyfriend..."
"I'll NEVER start drinking..."
"I'll NEVER let myself get drunk..."

These are fifteen things I said I'd never do. Yet over the past four and a half years I've done them all, repeatedly. Yesterday I added a sixteenth thing to that list. I'll NEVER use alcohol to try escape from reality... that is until yesterday.

Christmas is rapidly approaching, it'll be here before we know it, it's Tuesday. For some reason we all seem to believe that our lives aren't complete unless we are romantically involved around the holidays. I, as much as I'd like to say I don't, would be lying my ass off if I didn't say I believed it as well, at least somewhat. I have a "cuddle-buddy" now and what we share is great, great in the moments that we share it. But in the morning I'm still alone. I mean we're not in a relationship and I totally understand that that's what being cuddle-buddies is all about. I'm starting to like him a little though but he's made it crystal clear that he's not in the market for a relationship, due to some past trauma. That's the story of my life. I like a guy, he would probably like me if his ex didn't mess him up so bad. If I had a dime for every time I heard that one I'd be typing this blog post from a top floor penthouse further downtown instead of in the messy bed of my studio apartment. I'd also been out meeting people this month, the last two numbers I got at a parties turned out to be from guys who already had boyfriends. Of course I didn't find out until I texted them days later. Like, why would you flirt with me and give me your number if you have a boyfriend? Maybe I'm just reading too much into it and seeing what I wanna see. How pitiful? What the hell is wrong with me? I hate that I'm that way, always with that glimmer of hope shit. I'll talk about that in further detail in a later post.

"But my love for myself is lacking a little bit
I can admit that I'm working on it
Staying faithful...
Just like you, sometimes I get down
Sometimes I just wanna cry
Sometimes I get so depressed
Just like me, tryna be complete
Just understand we're all just a work in progress..."
-Mary J. Blige
from the song "Work In Progress (Growing Pains)"

Besides my love life being miserable, pitiful, sad, and totally fucked up, a pain I've learned to accept, one that I numb with strawberry shortcake, shopping, high-end consumer electronics, work and now liquor, lately I've learned to like the feeling of being tipsy, but even that contingency plan started to unravel yesterday. Thursday night I woke up after 7pm. I can't believe I wasted the whole fucking day sleeping. I have so much to do and that's time I can't get back. I needed to finish everything before I go back to my "real" job at the hotel on Sunday and I've already wasted a fuckin' day. And this is yet another day I haven't gone to the gym. I haven't been to the gym in almost two months and it's starting to show, my body is a mess. I'm losing all my definition, my wifebeaters are fitting funny and I've all but lost the little bit of chest I had. My arms aren't tight anymore, my abs are becoming undecipherable. I look a mess. If I go out to another party and see another thin boy who's body is better than mine I'm... Fuck, I don't know what I'll do.

I turn over to my right nightstand to realize that my Blackberry died, the one that I just got November 21st, the day before Thanksgiving. It won't charge. I was back and forth on the phone arguing with the wireless company and the insurance company. While to normal people this would be no big deal I've always had this weird hatred of calling big companies 800 numbers and dealing with those automated systems. It annoys me to no end and I hate having to argue, having to fight for my rights as a customer. Why can't people just give you what the fuck you motherfuckin' paid for without all this fuckin' complication? They sure don't make things this complicated when they're taking the fuckin' money off my debit card every month. All of the arguing to no avail because I had to wait for an insurance adjuster to call me sometime tomorrow to further verify my claim. WHAT THE FUCK?!!! This was the last thing I needed in my life right now. I went off on those insurance company people, still to no avail. Now I had to figure out how to get the hundreds of important contacts I had in this phone out before the battery dies (no, they weren't saved to the SIM card). I had to do this immediately.

"Living up to everyone's expectations
condemned me to a world of damnation.
I gotta clear these voices from my head
All these opinionated noises..."
-Mary J. Blige
from the song "Destiny"

All of this was going down as I was supposed be working on a website project that I fell asleep on, one of two that I'm already behind on and had already received 50% deposits for. As great an opportunity these projects are and as much as they would look good in my portfolio sometimes I wish I could afford to just give the money back and run away. But I need the money and I hate breaking my promises even more than I want to run away so there I was. I sat up on my bed in a daze, bewildered, not knowing where to start, the voices in my mind talking over each other arguing over which thing I should do next.

Then another voice spoke up and reminded me that I hadn't written anything for Enrique Cruz's Gay Sex Report blog, the blog I'm an associate writer of in almost two weeks. I saw him last Saturday and promised him that I'd put something up on Sunday. I saw him last night at Shorty Roc's birthday party and thankfully he didn't mention it, but I just knew I was gonna put something up today and I haven't, shit! He doesn't pressure me about it, he's actually a real sweetheart, that actually puts even more pressure on me. I didn't wanna disappoint someone who has been so cool to me. But frankly, I haven't been in a mood to lightheartedly banter about sex lately. My heart is anything but light right now.

Then I remembered that I had a meeting scheduled with my cuddle-buddy that night. Fuck! I was supposed to have everything finished by now but I fucking fell asleep, what the fuck? Shit! Dammit! I had to deal with all of this, so I called him and canceled, the slight disappointment and annoyance in his voice sucker punched me in the gut but there was nothing to do. I wanted to see him too. We hadn't seen each other since last weekend and I missed him all week. But I had to handle this and I was way too angry and annoyed to be good company to anyone tonight. So I took out a composition notebook and attempted to write down every number in my dying phone. As I opened the notebook I thought, 'fuck it, I won't let this keep my down'. So I called my cuddle-buddy back, uncanceled our appointment, threw on something and made my way to his place.

"How do you feel when the one you love
Doesn't, doesn't seem real?
Do you run, or do you try to heal
The hurt inside..."
-Mary J. Blige
from the song "In The Meantime"

Those hours that I laid next to him all of my troubles seemed to melt away. It felt so good to have him in my arms and kiss his lips and caress his face. I only wish it were real. He woke up and left for work Friday morning leaving me in bed in his dimly lit apartment. As I rolled out of his bed I gathered my things and thought of how I was going to attack this, yet another day. I got back home to face my laptop, dirty apartment, messy-ass bed, and a million tasks still undone but I was still on the high of being with him last night so it didn't seem so bad anymore. After turning on my laptop to begin tackling this pile of work I see my cuddle-buddy online. Before asking him out to the movies this weekend via IM I insinuate that maybe last night could lead to something more. I was quickly shut down and brought back to Earth. It's not his fault though. I knew what I was getting into with him. Any pain I feel as a result of our interaction is all my fault. At the same time that fine-ass dude I thought I made a connection with on Wednesday night just texted me and told me that he has a boyfriend. THEN WHY THE FUCK WOULD YOU FLIRT WITH ME AND GIVE ME YOUR MOTHER FUCKIN' NUMBER THEN? Breathe Adam, breathe.

As my high wore off my apartment seemed to get smaller and dirtier, my bed and life messier. Then I received an IM from Nathan. Fuck! We're supposed to record more of the mini-series today. I'm so not up to this shit. I wanted to cancel but I realized that Nathan is busy and I didn't wanna waste his time and shit, I'm a professional, the show must go on. People expect a show every Thursday and I'll be damned if they don't get it, especially over this shit. Fuck that. I gotta find a way to pull it together and get shit done. After getting a retarded-ass call from my boss at my real job on my day off and arguing with the insurance company again I pulled myself together and left the house. Last night was only the placebo and it helped me escape from the shambles that is my life for a few hours, today I need the real thing.

On my way out to Nathan's place I mentally compiled my what's fucked up right now checklist. Work, check; high-end consumer electronics, check; love life, check, check, check. All I was left with was strawberry shortcake and liquor. I grabbed a $20 bottle of Grey Goose vodka, cranberry juice and a slice of diner strawberry shortcake on the way to Nathan's. You want a show Nathan, well dammit I'll give you a hell of one today.

"Sometimes I wish that I could stand here and fade away
So that no one could see the tears running down my face..."
-Mary J. Blige
from the song "Fade Away"

On camera I binged on strawberry shortcake, my first meal of that day, while downing damn near the whole bottle of Grey Goose with less and less cranberry juice with each glass. I proceeded to tell Nathan about all that I'd been going through as I slipped further into drunkenness. As I babbled on and on I'm sure I divulged more than I should have as liquor is a truth serum for me. There were a few moments where I wanted to cry but I'd never let that happen, definitely not in front this camera, or in front of anyone else. By my third glass I felt myself fading away, fading away from all my problems, all my concerns, I was somewhere else.

I wish I weren't so sensitive, I wish I wasn't such a perfectionist, I wish I didn't care so much. I wish I wasn't such a whore all those years then maybe somebody would trust me. Why do I have to be such a pussy-ass girl about everything? Why can't I just roll with the punches and take it like a man? Why can't I ever like somebody that likes me too? These unanswered questions that painfully echo through my mind everyday I couldn't hear anymore now that I was drunk. The voices drowned in the sea of alcohol that tempestuously moved about my brain. It filled their lungs, they asphyxiated themselves as they struggled to rise to the surface.

When the camera was turned off I stumbled my way down the hall to Nathan's bathroom. I had to piss like a racehorse. As I fumbled to release my dick from my boxers, my longjohns and then my jeans to urinate my brain spun like a centrifuge. The very Earth I was standing on began to move violently like a rollercoaster. After I relieved myself I sat on the lid of the toilet, holding on to the sink and to my head for dear life. My body was at war with the alcohol. My internal organs crying out in pain, violently heaving, fighting against this foreign substance I've mercilessly poured into them. 

"Jesus, am I dying?"
"Lord Jesus, what have I done?"
"Have I poisoned myself?"

I asked as volcanic pressure began to build in my stomach. Suddenly warm, pungent red lava projected from my mouth narrowly missing the sink. I vomited. Looking into the sink I could still recognize the little pieces of strawberry from the cake I'd just gorged myself on and there were a few things that were processed beyond recognition. Just then I threw up again, and again, and again. The next thing I remember is laying down in a way that my feet would secure the door from being opened. I didn't want Nathan or anyone else to see me this way. I passed out face down on the bathroom floor.

"I got to laugh to keep from crying, yeah
To hide all the pain inside..."
-Mary J. Blige
from the song "The Love I Never Had"

When I awakened about an hour or two later I cleaned the sink and stumbled to the living room. Nathan asked me whether I was okay and I answered affirmatively as I clutched a pillow on the couch and I was out again. The next time I awakened it was after 8pm, Nathan's boyfriend was there handing me water and two aspirins. Realizing that I'd done more than overstayed my welcome, I may be stumbling drunk, but that's no excuse to forget my manners, I pulled myself together, left Nathan's place, convincing him that was more okay than I really was and stumbled my way into Kennedy Fried Chicken and ordered two chicken breasts, fries and a bottled water to replace all that I'd thrown up. I ravenously ate it on my way back into the city, where I went shopping and then to a party last night, where I didn't drink but I jokingly regaled friends and associates with the previous happenings of the day. I got back home at five this morning to the same small dirty apartment and messy-ass bed to realize that nothing had changed. I guess the joke's on me. Never say never.

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Playing In The Background...
"Work In Progress (Growing Pains)"
by Mary J. Blige
from the album "Growing Pains"
and
"Destiny"
by Mary J. Blige
from the album "No Nore Drama"
and
"In The Meantime"
by Mary J. Blige
from the album "No Nore Drama"
and
"Fade Away"
by Mary J. Blige
from the album "Growing Pains"
and
"The Love I Never Had"
by Mary J. Blige
from the album "Mary"
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