Dating: October 2007 Archives

So I was on a date with this guy once. We had been dating for a little while and I really liked him. We even had had sex a few times before, it was always great. At that time we hadn't seen each other in a few weeks. I missed him. I missed being around him but I was also horny as hell. We set up a date for the upcoming Friday night. Earlier that week as we talked on the phone and texted back and forth I was dropping pretty obvious hints that I was trying to get some on the night of our date. I basically said everything short of 'I wanna fuck you on Friday night.' I wasn't getting any objections to anything so I assumed all systems were go.

On Friday I assumed my "pre-I'm-getting-me-some-tonight-rituals" of masturbating only once (because as you've already read I masturbate at least twice a day, read that post here) early in the morning as to give my guys enough time to regenerate for the evening's activities, my Kegel exercises (if you don't know about them I suggest you Google them) because nobody likes it when you pop the cork and the champagne doesn't shoot out, I cleaned up the house, changed the sheets, I made sure my Glade Plug Ins Scented Oil Light Show was full because nothing is sexier than walking into a home that smells good. I think I even went to the gym that day. I was ready. I was a lean, mean, fucking machine. All that was left to do was to pick out an outfit, something that looked good but could be ripped off at a moments notice.

So Friday evening comes and we went out to a really nice dinner. Then we went to a club. Things were getting hot and heavy on the dance floor. There was some bumping and grinding, neck sucking, kissing, my dick was hard, everything was lovely. In the club the music was loud so I texted him saying something like "Let's get outta here and go back to my place." He was cool with it. I was excited. I was finally gonna get me some and from him, this guy who I really liked. As much as I sound like a horny dog right now I really did have feelings for this guy. As always, other sexual opportunities presented themselves but he was the one I really wanted.

All during the train ride home there was all this sexual tension. I just wanted to have him right there on the subway train. Obviously we're gay, so I couldn't even kiss the dude without having to fight somebody. Society... two dudes can't tongue each other down on a subway train without a bitch having something to say. Lemme stop, 'cuz gay or not gay I've never really been into PDA anyway.

We get back to my place, lights dim, smelling good, all this sexual tension bubbling over. We start kissing, the clothes somehow come off and we fall into bed. We suck, we lick, we grind, I eat, he's moaning, I eat, he's moaning, I grind, hes' moaning, I suck his neck, he's moaning, I eat, he's moaning, I tease him with the head of my dick, he's moaning, I reach for the nightstand drawer, he stops.

"I don't wanna have sex tonight?"

"Huh?"

"I don't wanna have sex tonight?"

"What?"

There's was no blood left in my brain at that point so I couldn't really reason past one word questions yet. I was starting to sound like 'Lil Jon.

"I don't wanna have sex tonight?"

"Why?"

"Because I don't feel good."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah."

One of the worse things to happen to a man, especially a gay man, especially a gay man who is a top is to be left with the horrible, terrible, proverbial, blue balls. For a man to get his hopes up, touching, kissing, cuddling, rubbing, listening, paying for dinner, all for that moment when his throbbing hard dick can finally get the satisfaction that his body has been craving all night, all week, all month, all however long it was since the last time he got some, only to be denied at last second is, is, it's just fucked up! I can sit here and look back on all the dates I've made, and all the plans I've made, and all dinners I've paid for, and all the boring ass conversations I've had to sit through, and all the boring ass places I've been dragged to all in the hopes of tappin' that ass. Even with all this work put in whether I will really get some has always remained an uncertainty.

Well this is a new day people! You wanna talk? You want communication? Well dammit, let's talk, I'm ready to communicate. So I've decided rather than assuming, wishing, hoping and praying that I get some I'm just gonna come straight out and ask. I know it's new, it's radical, it's different. Most of our actions in a dating situation usually hinge on assumption, subtle suggestion and inference but lately I've been testing out a more straight forward approach.

The time came for me and this same dude to go out again and before I started doing extra Kegels and push ups and shit I figured that I needed to know what I was, or rather wasn't getting into, so I could govern myself accordingly. As you know I've never done this with someone I've dated before. A few nights before our next date I send a text:

"I've never been this direct before but fuck it... Ayyo, can we have sex Friday night?"

"Yeah that's pretty direct. What happened to ur mack game? Ur supposed to make me want to have sex with you, not ask for it. lol"

You see that. That's that inference, assumption bullshit. I can't make him "want" anything. We're both grown. Either he wants to or he doesn't... for the most part. I'm usually pretty convincing but even with that there ain't that much "mack game" in the world. I laid down much mack game on the last date and you see where that got me. I wasn't taking any chances this time.

"U already wanna have sex with me. I just need to know if it's really gonna happen or not."

"Yeah."

"Thanks :) You see how easy that was... lol"

"Lol yeah yeah"

"There's so many things I wanna do to you..."

"U gonna let me ride u?"

"Hell yeah..."

"Aight cool, can't wait. ;)"

You see how simple that was. Nice and straightforward. Now we have no crazy mismatched expectations from the date. We can go out, have a good time and know we're getting some at the end of the night. Even if he said that he didn't wanna have sex with me I could still govern myself accordingly, like I said. I wouldn't expect anything. The real horror of blue balls is not so much a physical, I'm just horny thing. It's the dashing of expectations and the feeling of rejection that makes it so tragic.

On a more serious note repeated episodes like that, especially in the context of a relationship can lead to the rejected partner (top or bottom) harboring deep resentment toward the other. It can also have damaging effects on that partner's self esteem. Remember, gay or not we're all men and a good portion of a man's self esteem is wrapped up in his sexual prowess. Now I'm not suggesting for a second that anyone does anything that they don't want to do but whenever you don't want to at least take the time to explain why so the other person understands where you're coming from.

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Playing In The Background...
"Put Me Down"
by Donnell Jones
from the album "Life Goes On"
and
Sean Paul
"(When U Gonna) Give It Up To Me" feat. Keyshia Cole
from the album "The Step Up Original Movie Sountrack"
==========

Now y'all know I was going through it last Tuesday when I wrote this post. But that next day and the days following that even into this weekend and this new week beginning I feel great. I'm learning to relax, let go of expectations and just live, more importantly, live for me. I've been doing a lot for myself in the past week and have been putting dating and expectations of happiness and living out the rest of my days with "the one" on the back burner. The coolest thing about it is that it's not even a big dramatic change this time. I promised myself that I wouldn't run after another guy, I slipped up for a second and now I'm back. Like I said in the last dating update post "no angry phone calls, no declarative emails, no proclamations via text message" I'm just relaxing and letting things come to me now.

When I saw Pubby last Sunday he said that he wanted to meet up on Thursday. I agreed but I wasn't gonna put much on it. If I got a chance to spend time with him, I'd be nice but if I didn't I'd live. Given his track record, I didn't expect much. He texted me Thursday morning:

P: "Morning sweetheart"

A: "What's good, sexy?"

P: "Not much.. in class :("

A: "Awww I just woke up."

P: "Lucky you.. It is freezing and raining outside"

A: "Really, I woke up in the middle of the nite 2 close my windows last nite it was dumb cold"

P: "Yes, and I'm severely underdressed :("

A: "U didn't watch the weather report babe?  Maybe it will get better, maybe it's just a morning thing."

P: "Nah I Was running late"

A little bit later I was online checking my various email, Facebook and MySpace accounts I get a message on MySpace from, you guessed it, the Pubster:

P: "Hello sir :)"

A: "Whaddup babe,
I'm about to run out to the gym real quik and get me a haircut so I can be back in time to get the house ready 4 ur arrival.
((muah))"

P: "So as you may have anticipated.. I'm not gonna come up after all :( I just can't fathom going home on the train at midnight wearing what im wearing and feeling how I'm sure I'll be feeling..."

A: "Aight, Well I guess no need to rush back then, feel better babe. We'll get up some other time. Just him me up n lemme know :)"

P: "I'll hit u when I get home so we can chat... we can have a phone date! :D"

A: "LOL aight babe. ;)"

P: "For real tho I miss u.. wanna see u and hang out.."

Now if this had been last week, I woulda really been tight after having him cancel on me last minute like that. But ever since I wrote and read and reread and reread that blog post from last week and saw the fool I was becoming along with the fact that Pubby started looking different to me anyway ever since that day he snapped on me, it just became real easy to be indifferent about the whole thing. I shocked my damn self. And what was that last line about? Did I read that shit correctly?

Shortly after Pubby canceled on me, CancelCancel hit me up asking me whether I wanted to go out to BBQ's with him that night (they're doing the relay thing again). Now if this were last week I would have jumped at the chance to go out with CancelCancel, especially after Pubby just canceled on me, so in that case the night wouldn't be totally wasted right? Wrong. Why the fuck is a night with me and just me in my house, surrounded by all the lovely shit that I worked so hard to pay for a wasted night? That's bullshit. See, I'm tryna change the way I think. I was already gonna not go to my ab class at the gym that night in order to spend time with Pubby and Lord knows as much as I love me some ribs, BBQ's wasn't gonna do nothin' for my midsection. So I declined his offer, got my haircut, went to my ab class, did some lifting, came home and baked me some low fat buffalo wings and watched "Family Guy". Oh yeah and that phone date Pubby mentioned, it never happened, it's not as though I expected it to anyway.

Friday afternoon I took some more pics with Nathan "Seven" Scott out in Jersey (look out for more collabos between us in the future). After that I came back into the city and stopped by Verlaine, on the Lower East Side to have a drink with a really good friend from school that I hadn't seen in years. The cranberry vodka there is great, it hardly tasted like liquor and it was only four bucks. I scarfed that thing down like it was kool-aid. If I could have stayed there longer I know I woulda been fucked up, like my birthday party, fucked up (read that blog post here), but I had to meet DJ (DJ Baker of the Doo Dirty-Radio Show) who I've said is like my new big brother, at an open mic thingy up in Harlem. He wasn't the only person I was meeting there.

There's this guy who heard my appearance on DJ's radio show. He came to the blog and then he hit me up on MySpace, we messaged back and forth on there, we exchanged numbers and decided to meet up at this event last Friday night. You'd think I meet get hit on via internet by a lot of people, doing this blog but surprisingly I don't. Dont get me wrong, I get my fair share but I wouldn't call it excessive. Anyway back to the guy, he was cool, he's not on nickname status yet, we'll see where it goes. We all, me, him, his friend, and DJ ended up back at my house having a roundtable discussion about relationships into the wee hours of the morning. We were supposed to go to Shelter that night but the time got away from us and we decided against it.

Saturday, I met up with DJ again downtown to be a part of a taped roundtable discussion for to be included in a future radio show. On my way down there I was on the phone with Pubby and he was telling me about all of this dramatic shit that happened at Shelter the night before. I was so thankful that I didn't end up going to Shelter. The last thing I needed to do was to be around more drama, especially after the party I went to last week. While he was on the phone telling the story and just talking about, well, you know, ummm, Pubby stuff, like fashion, clothes, money, parties, being a part of the upper level of the caste system that is the New York black gay scene (which not to sound overly critical, can be a little superficial and somewhat monotonous at times, that is the scene and him talking about it) I mean, hey, I'm gay too and even I have my moments, we all do, but damn! I get tired of hearing about that stuff sometimes. Anyway, I noticed myself drifting in and out of the conversation as though I'd heard it all before and it never was that interesting to begin with. As much as I was trying to hold on he started to notice. He actually stopped a few times to ask me what was wrong with me and to tell me that I seemed disinterested.  Being the person I am I quickly and vehemently denied such accusations as not to sound the least bit shady. Before I would have been so enthralled listening to him go on about these things but I'm not so much anymore.

Actually I think that this is what it is. When I first met Pubby I knew full well that he was a scenester. He's a pretty boy. He looks good and he knows it. He knows people and people know him on the scene. He's used to going out and getting into the clubs for free, he's a snob, and will not associate or interact with with certain people because of it. He's into going out, drinking, partying, socializing, shopping and just living fabulously. I'm the total opposite, I'm not into the scene, I hardly drink or go out, and am pretty much unknown outside of my circle of friends and I'm totally fine with that. I know that it seems as though I'm painting this horrible picture of him and that we're total opposites and in a lot of ways we are and  a lot of our views are different. There are many times during our conversations when I will find myself holding my tongue as not to argue with him. But when we're alone together he's different. He sheds a lot of that public persona and can be a really sweet guy once you get him by himself. Because we haven't been alone together in a little while I haven't really had any tender unmasked moments with him and all I'm getting in our casual encounters lately is the public persona.

After I finished recording the show with DJ, Pubby and I decided to meet up while I was still Downtown. We were walking up the street and my cell phone rang. It was someone whom I've had several phone conversations with and may have been meeting up with later that night after me and Pubby parted ways. It was Saturday night and in true Pubby style he was going out to two or three parties. Me and the caller had a brief conversation as I was not trying to be rude to my present company. As soon as I hung up the phone Pubby said rather angrily:

P: "Do not talk to one of your dates while you're with me! That's disrespectful! I would not do that to you so don't do it to me!"

A: "How did you know it was a date?"
I said with a devilish smirk on my face.

P: "Don't insult my intelligence Adam! If it was not a date you would have said 'it's not a date'"

Silence. We walked up the street in total silence for the next 45 seconds. I'm not sure what the fuck just happened here. Am I in the fuckin' Twilight Zone or some shit? As amused as I could have been at Pubby's slight showing of jealously I was confused. Isn't this what he wanted, no strings, no commitments, just chillin'? Now he's goin' off on me about other dudes. Is it just as simple as I can just do whatever as long as he doesn't know about it? What I don't get is that he coulda had me, all of me, all to himself a few weeks ago and he didn't want that, he wanted to be "free." So now he's free and I'm free and I just got my head bitten off. But, it's all good, I'm not stressing it, honestly, the tinge of jealousy was cool, at least I know his ass is alive.

We ended up at a fast food restaurant where we had a really, really good convo. We laughed and talked about ourselves, our families, gay issues, politics, and other more genuine things. He even shared something with me that he never shared with anything else. As we conversed and I looked into his eyes I remembered why I started to like him so much in the first place. We continued our conversation as walked to the train station together and waited on the platform. We were going in the same direction but on two different trains. He asked me whether I was going out that night. I told him no, because I had to work in the morning. I also reiterated to him that going out wasn't my thing, it was his thing and that he knows that I like to chill at home. To that he said:

P: "Yeah so you can have your hoes come to the house."

A: "I won't even dignify that statement with a response."

He smiled as my train pulled into the station. I embraced him while slipping in a seductive peck on his neck. I hadn't kissed him on his beautiful pink lips in so long. He said that's he'd call me later that night. I smiled and stepped ontp the train knowing better than to expect my phone to ring that night.

Oh what a difference two days make.

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Playing in The Background...
"If I Could"
by Dru Hill
from the album "Dru World Order"
==========

==========
I realized that I haven't given y'all a dating update in a while so I thought I'd catch everyone up. New people I suggest you read this and this first.
Get ready 'cuz this is gonna be a long one.

Enjoy.
==========

These past two weeks were busy, yet fruitful, yet very trying ones for me. The coolest thing about posting the story of my life on a blog is that I get to see all of my bullshit in black and white. The even cooler thing about posting the story of my life on a blog as popular as this one is that everyone else gets to see all of my bullshit in black and white and will call me on it if I happen to fall back into it. It's like I've got hundreds of little internet angels watching over me. Like I said before it's so easy to rationalize your bullshit when it only lives in your mind. To put it on paper/internet makes it a tangible, legible thing that you then have no choice but to deal with.

Bad relationship habits, like acne and diabetes are just about impossible to cure. The key is to stay on top of them, giving them daily treatment in order to keep them under control. This treatment becomes a new habit which will eventually cancel out the old habits. Once you realize what your bad habits are, doing things not to trigger them becomes a part of your daily routine just like combing your hair or brushing your teeth, thus creating a new habit. As we have seen from my relationship pattern (read the post about that here) that I tend to like a guy and then start doing way too much, running after him if you will. Then when I don't feel like my efforts are being reciprocated properly I get hurt and out of that hurt I just up and dump the person and replace that person with the next person. Wash. Rinse. Repeat. I'm trying my best to avoid that by constantly reminding myself to relax, not rush things, and not take things so personally.

Being a Leo I can be an impetuous and somewhat emotional person. Unfortunately at times I'll let my emotions solely dictate my actions. I'll say or email something that I didn't put as much thought into as a should have, reacting to how I feel and once it's said or the send button is pressed there's no taking it back. My future PR person is gonna be working overtime dealing with me. That's why I usually try to give myself 36-48 hours before I write about an experience on this blog. I try to let all of my emotions run their course before I sit down to write so I'm able to tell the story in the most objective way possible.

Well we left off with CancelCancel and I not dating anymore (read about that in this post). Which brought me down to just dating Pubby. In the last few weeks Pubby and I have gotten closer, scratch that, I've gotten closer to him. But on the Friday before last I guess I got a little too close. I asked him something about where he'd been the night before and why he wasn't answering his phone. I realize that we aren't all that yet and we're both dating different people and maybe I was overstepping my bounds a little but when I call I'm used to used to him answering. I just wanted to know what was up. Maybe he was going through something I could have helped him with? I was actually a little worried about him, this was strange behavior.

So I asked him and he gave me the ol' "Sometimes I just don't feel like talking." line. If I had a quarter for every time I heard that one. Could somebody please tell me what the fuck that shit means? If you like somebody and you say you care about them and they call you why would not offer them the courtesy of at least answering the phone and saying "It's not a good time. I'll call you back later."? Maybe I'm just too nice but you'd think that be the thing to do. Then he proceeds to reiterate the fact that we're not "together" and I have no right to ask him any questions. He snapped at me. This nigga really just snapped at me, like what the fuck!?! So being totally over the whole situation we got off the phone. He called me back a while later and I didn't answer the phone. I was mad at him for snapping at me. I realized that I was letting myself get way too into him and that I would have to make a conscious effort to start being a little more indifferent toward him, thus the poem. Whenever I'm going through something that's when I'm inspired to write poetry and usually my poems take about five to thirty minutes to write. It's like I get this burst of creative energy and I have to write down exactly how I feel at that moment before I lose it. A few hours later he apologized to me via a long text message:

"I do apologize if I came off rather abrupt. Nothing I do is meant to hurt your feelings or is done out of spite. I can be a very blunt person and for the most part I tend to shoot from the hip. It takes a certain type of person to deal with my particular brand of brashness. No offense to you but I need to be me right now... Maybe you should rethink whether this is the type of situation u can honestly deal with. Because like I said u r an amazing guy and the last thing I would want to do is hurt you."

I'm sorry but a good portion of that was total motherfucking bullshit. Why do people feel that they can use being "blunt" and "shooting from the hip" as an excuse not to be nice? That's total fucking bullshit and a total cop out. If someone is nice to you you are nice to them, period. It was good for him to have apologized but he ruined it by then trying to make excuses for his behavior. If you're sorry, you're sorry, period. Making excuses for it made the whole apology half-assed. I was now really over it. I replied.

"It's whatever. Ima let u do u, Ima do me and we'll see eachother when we see eachother, no pressure and u don't have to worry about me being all up under  you tryna find out where u are or why u didn't call. We'll talk when we talk... we'll see eachother when we see eachother. I fully see what it is now and I'm not gon stress it."

For some reason this text message was not getting through to him. I tried three times that Friday night and he still never got it. The time my fucking balls finally drop, the fucking message doesn't go through. Ain't that some bullshit? Waking up that next morning, Saturday I was still mad at him though and was mustering up the courage to remain indifferent. I like him and all that but the hot/cold thing wasn't cool. I didn't deserve that shit. So he texted me that morning, the same day I taped my appearance on Da Doo-Dirty Radio Show and I tried my best to keep things as dry as possible.

P: "Morning sweetheart."

A: "Good morning."

P: "What u up to?"

A: "Writing in my blog."

P: "Cool."

A: "Did you ever get that text?"

P: "No."

I sent him another text paraphrasing the original one I sent. I don't think he got that either so I called him and told him how I felt. He was cool with it. Why wouldn't he be, it was what he wanted. It's not as though what I want is important or anything. About three hours later I receive this text:

CC: "Hey Adam,
It's Cancel Cancel. I just wanted to let you know I got a job. (He was looking for a new job last time we talked) Thanks for all of your encouraging words and hopefully we can be friends again."

A: "Yeah why not, we can be friends. I actually miss ur goofy ass. lol"

CC: "Yeah man I miss you too. I'm really sorry for not showing u the same amount of attention you showed me. I guess I don't know how to let my guard down."

This shit is crazy. Are these dudes relay racing or some shit? It's like as soon as I'm mad at one here comes the other. Do they call each other and plan this shit? Anyway, I'm nice, you know I forgave him. Even after I went all off on him in this post. I even saw him this past Friday. Now are things back to the way they used to be? Hell fuckin' no! As easy as it would be for me to say "Awww that's nice, I forgive you." and forget everything and walk off into the sunset, I'm not. I like him but homeboy still has some shit to prove to me. So I'm kicking off my Timbs, putting my feet up on the dashboard and letting him drive things for a while. It's different for me but I'm doing it. Like I said in the post I'm making sure his ass shows me some damn effort. With that we'll see if he's really serious or not. But I do have to say he's been doing pretty good lately. He's been calling and texting more, stopping by my job to see me or even leaving with me sometimes. We work close to each other and get off at the same time. I'm not getting all caught up but we'll see.

Back to Pubby. We texted each other a little bit that day but I was still doing my best to be indifferent. For most people it's so easy not to care and not to pour out affection but for me it's really hard. I must been doing a decent job though because he texted me two days later, that next Monday:

P: "R u mad at me?"

A: "Nah I'm not mad at u. You've probably noticed that I've been somewhat indifferent w u lately. It's just that I have feelings 4 u. And u don't feel the same for me. And as much as I would like to tell u how much I miss u or how much I wanna hold u in my arms again or how your smile makes me melt. I can't, what's the point? It's hard but I'm making a conscious effort no to do or say too much. I'm just tryna give you space."

P: "I respect that. I respect your feelings. I have no choice but to. I really have no idea what to say."

So I pour my heart out like a damn fool and he has nothing to say... figures. I don't know what the fuck is wrong with me and why I like this dude so damn much! That text was an emotional outburst that did not get approval by my mind before going out. Remember what I said about that send button? I don't know why I told him all that. I really regret that shit now. Why the fuck couldn't that pussy-ass text message get stalled in the atmosphere. Even the fuckin' cell phone company is working against me. Even after sending that message at that moment I didn't see Pubby the same way anymore. The lustre was gone, the magic faded. At that moment he became just like every other guy who has trampled over my heart in the past.

From that day the text messages were few and further between. We did have plans to meet up on Friday evening (that's this past Friday, four days ago, I know it's hard but keep up) though because I needed to pick up something from him. I also had my date with Cancel Cancel later that night so I told him that I would need to make things kinda early because I had something to do later. When I saw Pubby that Friday evening. I didn't feel quite the same way about him anymore, sure I still had some feelings for him and he was attractive, shit he was fine, but I made sure to come with extra tight security around my heart that day. I was so guarded that I didn't even hug him when I saw him. He didn't even look the same to me. He even said to me "Oh, I don't get no hug." I hugged him but I made a conscious effort to get down to business and keep it there. He really hurt me more than he realized and I was not trying to get sucked in again.

His friend Alex, came to pick him up from where we were. I needed to get to an ATM so he asked his friend if he could drive me there. That was awfully considerate, but I wasn't gonna think anything of it. When I left the ATM I walked back to the car and was preparing to say my thank you's and goodbyes, go home and get ready for my date with Cancel Cancel and my photo shoot the next day. Then Pubby asked his friend whether he could drive me to the train I needed to take. Okay, now this is weird. Pubby has been so aloof, cold and antiseptic all week. Why is he being so warm now? But whatever, I took the ride. right before I exited Alex's car Pubby said "Have fun on your date tonight." How the fuck did he know I had a date? And what's it to him? And why would he care? As nice as it would be for him to actually show that he was alive and be a bit jealous I knew better than to think that. I have my stupid moments but I'm not that stupid. He ain't been caring that much.

So I had my date with CancelCancel. It was cool, like I said, he seemed to be showing some improvement lately but I'm not tryna get caught up in that. I was already over men that day, all men. We chilled, it was cool. But I didn't think much of it. It was what it was and if it happens again, good, if not, good. Whatever. Like I said, he's in the driver's seat now so we'll see how serious he is.

Saturday I had the photo shoot and it turned out great. You'll see the pictures here probably by the weekend. Pubby had been excited talking all week about this party he was going to that night. And he said that maybe we'd see each other Sunday, that is if he wasn't tired after a whole weekend of partying. A week ago I probably would have been all hyped to see him on Sunday but at this point I was numb and slowly starting to get over him anyway so I didn't really care one way or another and I didn't bother asking him about it again. If we saw each other we did, if we didn't we didn't. I mean our seeing each other was based on a condition, whether he was tired from partying all weekend. As usual Adam is on the back burner, Adam is not a priority even though I go out of my way for everyone else.

I texted Pubby and asked him for the info on that party he was talking about. He made it sound like it was gonna be so much fun so I thought maybe I should go. It was my friend Kevin's birthday that night. I met him and the rest of our people at a restaurant right after my photo shoot. They were going to the party as well. They went straight from the restaurant. I decided to go home and change clothes first. I was planning to arrive at the fashionably late time of 2:30. When I got home I was dead tired. Something told me that I should not go to that party. I already don't like parties and clubs as it is. Against my better judgement I went anyway. One of these days I'ma start listening to my better judgement. 

As soon as I get to the party and step out of the cab, who the fuck do I see but Chuck (I mention him in this post). Chuck is my ex-best friend who is still mad at me because I cut him off abruptly two years ago for being a shady bastard. I even went so far as to apologize to him via email back in July in an effort to move forward and he still is shady toward me. Every time I see his ass in a club or whatever he goes out of his way to speak to all of my friends and not speak to me. I'm like dude, grow the fuck up, it's not that serious, it was like two years ago. I'm not a shady person and to see him and have to be shady is so much work and I really wasn't into it that night. That was the first sign that I shoulda got my ass in a cab and went back home. And then in the party I see this other kid who threatened (yes threated cuz his ass ain't never do nothin') to fight me last year over some dumb shit. And then to top it off, some kid who I chilled with one night and never called me again (I never called him either) came up to me at the party talking to me like we're best friends and shit. I'm looking at him like who the fuck are you? And why the fuck are you talking to me? This was so not where I needed to be.

Pubby was supposed to meet me at the party. I saw Alex but I didn't see him. I was gonna text him and ask him where he was but then I thought 'Fuck that! I'm not looking for him.' I've done enough as far as he was concerned. I finally got callous and dammit I was staying that way! On the bright side I did see a few people I hadn't seen in a while. I stayed at that party a little over an hour. When my best friend Russell said he was ready to go I popped the fuck up like popcorn. I love my friends and it was nice to be with them, especially because it was Kevin's birthday that night, but I could have done without this.

When I got home that night my mind was going a million miles an hour. What the fuck was wrong with me? Why was I so stupid? I was angry. I couldn't sleep and I wrote Pubby a somewhat angry email to his cell phone telling him that I just didn't wanna deal with him anymore. I figure if I just remove myself from him then maybe I'll get my brain back. He was no good for me. I know I deserve someone who will treat me better, or at least treat me like I fuckin' exist. So I wrote it, hit the send button and went to sleep.

The next morning, Sunday morning I was out shopping and I got a call from a strange number. It's Pubby, calling me from his job. He proceeds to tell me that he lost his cell phone last night and that he didn't end up getting to that party until like an hour after I left. That also means that he did not receive the email I wrote him. What the fuck? Why is it that every time I grow some fuckin' chest hair and tell this dude how the fuck I feel something always happens? But you know what fuck that! I'm telling him how I feel right fuckin' now. So I told him that I feel like I need to be away from him for the time being so I could get over him and get my fuckin' mind back because he obviously is not into me like that. He proceeded to tell me that what I was doing was selfish and immature. He's then tells me how much he cares about me and how he doesn't want me to do this. And I'm standing there in a state of shock trying to figure out when he started caring about me so much. All the hardness I worked so hard to build up inside melted away, I crumbled. I reneged on my resolution. I even left the store I was at to go have dinner with him. We talked in a very friendly-like, platonic way about why my relationships never work. He told me that with all the wisdom I have and all the good advice I give to people I never seem to follow it for myself. Oh yeah, that day he found his phone, and my angry email.

For some reason I'm drawn to him and it can't possibly be healthy. Even after our dinner I wanted to do was kiss him and hold him in my arms again. What the fuck is wrong with me? That night, inspired by our conversation I poured my heart into this poem and emailed it to him. I also sent him another email. Both of which never got to his phone Sunday night. We talked on Monday, yesterday morning and he told me that he wanted to read what I had written. I tried all day yesterday, it wouldn't work. After I got home from the gym last night and after having gone through that horrible altercation with the police. I texted Pubby. He called me. I asked him if he had gotten the emails I wrote. You know, the ones where I poured my heart out, again. He said yes. There was silence. I asked him what he thought. He said he had nothing to say... figures.

So if there was anyone out there who thought that I thought that I was perfect, you're wrong. I'm very far from it. After reading this over and cringing at my actions I've just realized that my problem is that I don't fully realize my worth. I deserve so much more and so much better than the situations I put myself in. Not to sound the least bit conceited but I have dudes throwing themselves at me every day, I have people telling me Adam you're great, your writing is great, you're so handsome, you're a great guy, you're so sexy, you're all this, you're all that. The problem is that sometimes deep down inside I don't see it. I see it at times but then again I don't see it. How can I save the whole world and be a mess myself? One of these days I'm gonna realize that everything I need I already have inside of me and not to react out of a fear of being alone. I'm not totally hopeless though, some days are better than others and I'm a hell of a lot stronger than I used to be. Reading my life on this blog definitely helps. There's no way I can rationalize this stupidity. I'm forced to get off my ass and do something about it.

I woke up this morning and went to work today not sad, not mad, but different, I'm free. No angry phone calls, no declarative emails, no proclamations via text message. I'm not going out of my way anymore. I'm gonna just be, I'm just gonna live. I'm actually so glad to be alive. I could have very well had my life taken from me last night. If I were dead would any of this have mattered? Maybe someone would cry and then life would go on. My life is my responsibility. I have things to do and moves to make. I have goals to meet. That's why I spent my whole day writing this. This blog has given me more than most people have ever given me my entire life and the joy of my life right now is to share my experiences with each and every one of you, whoever will read, that hopefully someone can learn from my mistakes. That someone who has fallen off doesn't get totally discouraged. It happens to the best of us. So let's get back up on that saddle and ride again. Some of us will hobble, some will gallop, some of us will crawl but eventually we'll make it. Old habits die hard and the best way to kill them is to replace them with a new habit. Loving myself and realizing my worth is becoming my new habit.

=========
Playing In The Background...
"Walk Away"
by Christina Aguilera
from the album "Stripped"
and
"For A Lifetime"
by Teedra Moses
from the album "Complex Simplicity"
==========

"...When, you think you're in love,
You only see what you wanna see.
And all I see is me for you and you for me..."
-Mary J. Blige
from the song "Be Happy"

Desperate times call for desperate measures, especially when you become desperate. Love and feelings can cloud your better judgment so much that you become temporarily insane. In your right mind you know that to keep loving and caring and pining over someone who doesn't give a damn about you or feel with the intensity you do is crazy. But when we're infatuated with someone logic as simple as that is hard to grasp. It's especially difficult because in the beginning he used to care and be so loving and attentive and you still cling to those memories, but that's all they are, memories. He may have been great in the past but it doesn't change the fact that he's hurting you today. The longer you stay around him the worse you become, the more damage is done to your psyche. By this time his actions have proven that he's not that interested in you anymore and in staying around him no longer is he hurting you, but because you now know better you are are allowing yourself to be hurt, in a nutshell, hurting yourself.

In another form of insanity we can manufacture feelings and inferences from someone that weren't ever really there. Then we vilify that person for not reacting accordingly to the feelings and inferences that we manufactured. Again, staying a situation such as this only causes us to hurt ourselves once again. The other person serves only as the unknowing catalyst. I've learned that the only thing to do for your own sanity is not to get caught up in casting blame and playing victim but to remove yourself from situations like these by any means necessary. 

I remember this guy I dated a few years ago, one of my first boyfriends, we'll call him Andrew. It was another of my world famous whirlwind love affairs, as I've had more twisters in my life than Kansas. We met online, of course. I thought he was attractive, of course. He was tall, and lightskinned, about six feet, the same height as me. I talked to him on the phone for about five minutes before I invited him over. It was in December I believe, it was snowing outside and we were both bored, we figured 'why the hell not?' He came over and we ended up talking for about four and a half hours until suddenly I kissed him and our clothes just fell off. I didn't fuck him that day but we messed around rather heavily.

So we liked each other and started dating. We'd be on the phone all the time, day and night. He would always come over to my house and chill even though I was still living with my parents who I guess assumed that I was straight. We kinda had a "don't ask, don't tell" policy. He felt uncomfortable bringing dudes to his house because like me his family didn't know he was gay but unlike me he was severely uncomfortable with his homosexuality outside of intimate times with me. I shoulda known his ass was gonna be trouble then.

When he would come over we would only mess around a little bit as I felt uncomfortable going all the way at my parent's house. It's not as though I hadn't done it before but by that time my sister had moved back home so I never had the crib to myself and I had no lock on my door. What was weird though was that even though he knew the deal he would still pressure me about sex. That is the first and only time I've ever had a bottom, wait scratch that, a bottom that I actually wanted to have sex with, pressure me, the top, for sex, usually it's the other way around. Shit, now that I'm a grown up and I have my own place I wish that shit would happen again. Alas, it usually doesn't. Don't get me wrong though, I get it, but it's never that easy, I have to spit a little bit of "G" first.

One night though he wore me down. He spent the night at my house. I slept in my bed, he slept on the floor. Somehow around 3am I ended up on the floor with him. He was down there on his hands and knees, spread wide, back arched, ass tooted up it the air ready for me to hit it. After a few unsuccessful attempts we just gave up. He was too tight and I was just not fitting in and I'm sure the fact that I was nervous that we could get caught any second didn't help either. I really did wanna fuck him that night though. About a week or so later I got us a hotel room and I tore that ass up, twice.

Anyway, soon after our evening of coital bliss things started going downhill. He didn't seem to be interested in anything beyond sex. It was the age old story of I started getting attached to him, he started pulling away, he started canceling dates and started becoming harder and harder to find. We played this passive-aggressive game of ambivalence for a few weeks until things finally came to a head.

Sunday, February, 13th, 2005 I was in the car with my father. He was driving me to work that night and I called Andrew. Seeing that I was in the car with my father I made our conversation, well at least my side of it, rather ambiguous. Honestly I think my Dad knew I was gay but I was just playing along. In the midst of our convo I asked Andrew if he was coming to see me the next day. I was off from work and of course it was Valentine's Day (our conversation being ambiguous I didn't actually say the "V" word). This nigga was on the other line on some "What's so special about tomorrow?" actin'-real-dumb-ass-bullshit and I couldn't even react to it the way I wanted to because I was in the car with my father at the time. Now that I think about it I guess spending Valentine's Day with me would be admitting to himself that he really was gay as though sucking my dick and letting me fuck him weren't enough.

We got off the phone and I was furious. I couldn't even concentrate on my work when I got to work I was so mad. So I left the front desk, went in to the bathroom and called him back. Voicemail. I hung up. The bastard didn't even answer his phone. I was so tired of his bullshit. I didn't understand why he was treating me the way he did. What did I do but try to be nice and accommodating? I paced the bathroom floor. looked in the mirror and got my words together for the voicemail I was about to leave. So I proceeded to cuss his ass out and break things off via voicemail.

I felt good about what I did, fierce and independent. I filled my mind with a veritable parade of insults against him. I ain't gon' let no nigga hold me down! Fuck him! I don't need him! He ain't shit! He wasn't all that anyway! I am faggot, hear me roar! After the parade was over and the crowds went home and the ticker tape was all cleaned up, I got real with myself. I knew I had only thought about this breakup for about five minutes before I did it and that it was basically a knee jerk reaction to our conversation in the car. A part of me wanted to take the message back, I mean what if he didn't answer the phone because he was in the shower or talking to his mom, maybe we coulda talked this out, but it's too late, I did it now. I knew I wasn't over him but I was tired of him treating me so badly. So as an insurance measure just in case my will power faltered, 'cuz I know if I heard his voice I'd crumble and be right back with him, I figured I would just find a way to cut off all communication from him. I being desperate took a desperate measure and  erased his number out of my phone and I changed my cell number.

That should have worked and it did for a while but I knew his number by heart. About a month later in a moment of weakness I called him. I fucked up my own plan. So we talked, he said he missed me... bull shit! Long story short, for a few weeks we tried our hand at reconciliation. It didn't work. He was still a confused asshole who didn't love himself for the homo he was so I don't know how I ever expected him to love or care for me. I was a little stronger than I was the last time and instead for hurting over his ambivalence it was just getting on my last nerve. So I sunk to the lowest common denominator and played the revenge card. I told him that I was gonna meet him somewhere so that we could get a hotel room and have sex. That's all he wanted anyway. I had him meet me there and I never showed up. He called and I ignored it. I haven't spoken to him since.

Now you'd think after going through all of that with Andrew that I would have learned my lesson. Oh no not me. Unfortunately I was too hard headed for that.

About a year later I started talking to this guy (he's Person #2 in this past blog post, so we'll just keep that name for him). I'm gonna fast forward through a lot of the beginning part of me and Person #2 as I'm just repeating my same horrible relationship pattern that if you've been reading you kinda get by now. Remember the post about my horrible relationship pattern? Anyway, here we go.

We met on the internet, we talked on the phone, we met up in person a month later, we ended up sleeping together, I ended up developing instant feelings for him, sounding familiar? I would call him and not get him, leave him voice messages and anxiously wait for him to call me back. I remember that my mind used to be consumed with him. Whenever he would finally call or text me back I'd jump at the phone. After the first time he came to see me I was desperate for him to see me again. We didn't meet at my house. I used to work at a hotel where I got free room stays and he came by. That next week an opportunity came along where I would be alone at the hotel again and I called and asked him to come see me. I could tell he didn't mind seeing me but he never had the sense of urgency I had. It was very 'take it or leave it' with him.

Honestly, I knew when I first asked him to come he wasn't gonna make it. I could tell by his voice. This talent, per say is something I still possess today. I can tell by the way a person sounds, by their patterns of speech, whether they are really gonna attend something I invite them to whether it be a date or a social function. Call me a cynic but I have yet to be wrong. Knowing full well his ass was not coming I held on to the smallest glimmer of hope, hold up, lemme not even insult hope like that. I was basically making some shit up in my mind to give my self a false sense of whatever that he may come. He didn't show, he had some bullshit excuse I can't even remember. I remember calling him yet again that night after he didn't show up. I told him how I felt. He told me to slow down, that I was getting to attached to him, that I was too emotional. He was never mean about it though, at least he tried to spare my feelings. I should have retained some of my pride and just left him alone then.

Just when you think I've gotten to the pinnacle, the paramount, the apex of desperation there is yet more, but I couldn't see it for what it was because it came in a different form.

Even after that last phone call I continued to call Person #2. Somehow he ended up inviting me to this party, it was a birthday party for one of his friends at a club. At this time I had really limited experience with clubs and clubbing. I invited my then best friend, Chuck, who I was also going through problems with, out to the club with me for moral support. At that time I was fairly new to the gay scene and Chuck was my only friend. Anytime I went out it was with Chuck. That day I went out and bought a new outfit for the party. I was so excited that Person #2 had invited me to something and that I would be meeting some of his friends. I wanted to look good.

Even though Chuck had previously agreed to go with me due to him wanting to be with his new boyfriend that night he canceled on me at the last minute, like literally an hours before we were supposed to meet up. I called Person #2 twice and didn't get him. I called him again later and I got him, he was with his friends, we talked briefly. He didn't seem too excited at the prospect of seeing me that night. I wanted to talk to him longer but he kinda shooed me off the phone. It was bitterly cold that night and all the circumstances around me were screaming "Adam, stay your ass home you stupid bitch!" but I turned a deaf ear and decided to go out anyway.

I woke up from my disco nap at 12 midinight. I remember while putting my look together in the hallway my mother and sister commented on how good I looked and I did look good. Unfortunately I didn't feel very good. My mind and my heart were so heavy and full of doubt. As I got my look together that night it was hard to look in the mirror. I knew my black ass shouldn't have been tryna go out that night. I knew that this dude wasn't checking for me like that. I should have gone back to bed and saved my outfit for someone who cared. But holding on to good ol' my false sense of whatever I left the house at about 1am.

After walking, taking the bus and walking some more. I got to the club. I paid my money, got patted down and went in. The place was small but crowded. I found Person #2 and we talked for a few moments. It was so good to see him again, being around him caused me to light up inside. Of course, given my inexperience with the scene I knew no one there and I followed Person #2 around like a puppy dog. That is until he shook me off and left me alone. Which he should have after a while. I wasn't his man, we weren't together. Truthfully I really had no business there.

During the course of the night he introduced me to his best friend, the birthday boy. When he introduced us, the birthday boy hardly turned from where he was to shake my hand. I'll never forget the look his friend gave me. It's like he literally could see my desperation. He didn't even look at me, he looked through me. It was such a shady and terrible look that it shook me to the core. He saw me for what I was and knew that I didn't belong there. Granted, I probably read way too much into his look. He could have just been a run-in-the-mill shady ass queen but when you're already feeling insecure or invalidated you become hyper-sensitive to invalidation from others and start to see it everywhere and in everything and from everyone.

Sitting there by myself in that club watching everyone talk and laugh and socialize I never felt so alone. Sure, guys looked at me and flirted with me throughout the night but that's what guys do. I wish I felt half as good as they thought I looked. As I sat on a couch in the corner all these thoughts came racing to my mind, like why the fuck was I here? What the fuck was I doing? I don't know why I didn't just gather my last shreds of dignity and go back home. I stayed until the club let out at 4am. I waited for Person #2 on the sidewalk. He talked to me a little, the birthday boy came by and butted in our conversation as though I wasn't standing there. Person #2 told me that he would have given me a ride home but his car was full. It was a nice gesture I guess, but I didn't expect a ride from him though. I'm not sure what I expected. I just wanted to be with him. One thing about Person #2 was that even though he obviously wasn't that into me he was never really mean about it. Unfortunately that's all a desperate person like me needed to be strung along. And it's not as though he'd be stringing me along, desperate people often read deeper into things than they are and end up stringing themselves along.

I walked to the train station and headed home. Some guy, obviously from the club, flirted with me and asked me my name on the train. My mind so wasn't there right then. I wasn't attracted to him and I was way too sad and tired to humor him that night. On the platform as I waited for the next train in an effort to make myself feel better I blasted Remy Ma's "Conceited" from my earphones. I mean, regardless of how I felt I still looked good, right? I applied that band-aid to my cancer and it was enough to keep me composed until I got home.

When I crept back into the house at after 5am I remember feeling so worthless. Why did I throw myself at yet another man? This time it was even worse because it really wasn't his fault. He told me what the deal was. He wasn't leading me on. He was only being nice. I led myself on. Then I thought about Andrew, and even my friend Chuck, how we used to be so close but he got some new friends and never had time for me anymore. I needed Chuck more than ever tonight. Why am I always having to run, struggle and fight to get attention from people? Why can't people just love and accept me? Why doesn't anybody want me? Why am I always breaking my back to please people and they never appreciate it? Why do I read so much into things? As all those why's ran through my mind I looked up to the ceiling of my dark bedroom a warm tear rolled down my left cheek. I snapped.

I rose from my bed and said "No." audibly. I said it out loud even though no one else was in the room. I didn't need to say it to anybody. I said it to me. I'm not crying over this shit, I refuse. I've had enough.  Fuck this! This is my life and dammit I'm gonna be happy! And if there is someone who doesn't want me then fuck them too. I remember being so angry that I had reduced myself to so little. The anger wasn't about them, granted they had their faults in it. The anger was at me because I let it happen. Here I am at home crying in the middle of the mother fuckin' night while niggas are at home catching zzzz with their fuckin' toes turned to the ceiling. Oh, I don't think so!

A more desperate time called for an even more desperate measure. I picked my cell phone and deleted every number of every friend, associate, one night stand, ex, or ever I felt was not treating me the way I deserved to be treated. Half of my address book was erased and I changed my phone number, again. I basically started all over. No best friend, no boyfriend all I had was my renewed sense of self. I was not gonna let anyone into my life who did not treat me with the utmost respect. I also stopped lying to myself about people's intentions and listening to my own instincts. Because I knew way before the breakups that Andrew and Person #2 weren't good for me but I was so busy wanting them that I didn't listen to what my instincts were telling me.

So the natural question to ask would be, well, you did that before, what is changing your number again gonna do? Absolutely nothing. What I learned from last time was that my number is not what needed to change. I needed to change my mind and the way I thought. This time the number change was just a symbol of my change of mind, instead of an instrument to bolster my will power. It made it much easier to cut off a mass of people at once. I learned that doing the best thing for me shouldn't be an exercise of will power but of brain power.

Last time I also used the fact that Andrew was an asshole as a crutch. I victimized myself. In a relationship between two able-bodied adults you can only be a victim after the first time. If a man hits you, cheats on you, etc., you are only a victim after that first time. Any time after that you know what he's capable of doing and in staying with him you have made a conscious decision to forgive him, to accept it, etc. Which is fine and hopefully he never does it again. Everybody deserves a second chance. But if he does do it again you cannot claim victim status. That's why I was so crazy over Person #2. Going into it I hadn't fully accepted my part in the Andrew situation. Yes Andrew was an a asshole but I made the decision to stay. I figured that because unlike Andrew and he was always so nice to me that it must mean that he was really into me. Therefore when he was trying unlike Andrew was to be nice and let me down slowly I didn't want to see it. I was being totally desperate in both situations, but until the second time I didn't fully own up to it. In order to get over anything in a relationship you have to keep it real with yourself and see your part in it first. Desperation is not about the lies he tells you, it's about the ones you tell yourself.

So I urge you that if you are in a desperate situation, whether the person is really hurting you or you're hurting yourself making yourself believe that feelings are there that aren't you may need to take that desperate measure and remove yourself from the situation in order find your inner strength and build your self esteem. You'll never be able to do that running after some guy all the time. Ask yourself why you feel the way you feel for a person who obviously doesn't feel the same about you. Get real with yourself and accept that you are acting foolishly and don't be afraid to recognize the signs next time around, because no matter how much we lie to ourselves there are always signs that a person is no good for us. We just choose to ignore them. A wise man once said "insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results."

Needless to say, from that day forward I started listening to my instincts. I never called Andrew, Person #2, or Chuck again and I have not changed my phone number again.

This situation is what spawned "ADAM'S RELATIONSHIP THEORY".

==========
Playing In The Background...
"Silly Bitch In Love"
by Olivia
from the album "Olivia"
and
"Feel The Same Way I Do"
by Destiny's Child
from the album "#1's"
and
"Be Happy"
by Mary J. Blige
from the album "My Life"
==========

"...If only I could let you go, why do I need you so?
It's amazing what a boy can do, I cannot stop myself.
Wish I didn't want you like I do, want you and no one else..."

"...If only I could set you free, you worked your way inside of me.
It's amazing what a boy can do, I cannot stop myself.
Wish I didn't want you like I do, want you and no one else..."

"...It's amazing what a boy can say, I cannot stop myself
Seems I love you more than yesterday, love you and no one else."
-Madonna
from the song "Amazing"

When I first head this song on Madonna's "Music" album back in 2000 it was just a song, a good song, but just a song nevertheless. I would sing along to "Amazing" bopping my head to the beat and the guitars like it was nothing. It wasn't until I got into my first of a string of unhealthy, uneven, fucked up relationships that these words really started meaning something. That's when I learned that it really is amazing what a boy can do and what's even more amazing is the dumb shit that I would do and the ridiculous lengths I would go to keep said boy.

A few years ago I had ago I had an ex, we'll call him Jack. Jack and I met online. We talked on the internet for a while then we exchanged numbers and had some really hot phone sex after which he told me that he was from Brooklyn but living in a city about 1,100 miles away at the time, going to school. He seemed cool but I never saw the point of getting all wrapped up in somebody who was long distance so I basically stopped talking to him after that. He called a few times though and I just didn't bother answering the phone. Why should I? He wasn't here. What the fuck were we gonna do, have more phone sex? At that time I was too interested in real sex to want to acquire another long distance phone sex buddy. I had enough of those already.

He texted me about a month later and asked me if I remembered him, surprisingly I did. He told me that he'd be in the city soon. I told him to hit me up when he got into town, cutting our text convo short. As I  stated I really didn't have any patience to talk to long distance dates, even the ones that say they're coming to town. I'll believe it when I see it, that was my philosophy.

Obviously he did end up coming to town, he called me and we scheduled a meeting. When we met in person we discovered that we had gone to high school together but didn't know each other as we didn't hang out in the same circles. Jack was my type but I wasn't immediately attracted to him. As the night went on though he became sexier and sexier. Now that I think about it, it's probably because he took that damn durag he was wearing off his head. I hate when dudes where those things outside.

That night we hung out with his friends. They were real cool and we all were just walking through Brooklyn together talking and laughing, enjoying the warm night. Occasionally jack and I would exchange a lustful, flirty glance or two. I was feeling him but I couldn't help but feel like I was being reeled in somehow, not that he was a con artist or anything but from some of the stories his friends shared and from some of his mannerisms and things he said I picked up that breaking hearts wasn't a foreign thing to him. I made a note to myself not to go too fast too soon, to feel his ass out first, figuratively and literally. I remember we were sitting on the stoop of his friend's house when he gave me the naughtiest little look and texted me:

"Take the bus home with me so I can suck your dick."

My dick hardened with anticipation. I was excited and most definitely planned on being on that bus with him. He lived out of my way but fuck it, some things are worth going a little out of your way for sometimes. As I walked him home from the bus stop early that next morning I thought that he may have forgotten the promise he made me only a few short hours ago. I wasn't gonna stress it. I was having a good time with him and would even settle for just a kiss from him. I didn't care what we did I just wanted to be alone with him. All of our subliminal flirting got me so hot and bothered.

When we got to his, well, really his parent's house I walked him in and closed the front door behind me. We were in a small foyer area between the front door and a door that led to the rest of the house. I realized he hadn't forgot. After a few minutes of pleasantries and nervous conversation we kissed and it was fireworks. As our bodies were pressed against each other I groped him. His body felt so good in my hands, his back, his waist, his ass that I gripped and massaged forcefully with both hands. He tugged at my belt, freed my rock hard dick from me jeans, gripped it at the base got down on his knees and said:

"It's even bigger in person."

Then he began to lick, suck, kiss  and deep throat my dick like we were in love and this was our first anniversary, not like he had only met me only six hours ago. He devoured me with no fear or inhibition. He sent shockwaves of pleasure through my body so strong I could hardly stand up. Just when I thought it couldn't get any better he stood up, bent over and said:

"I want you to fuck me."

I dropped to my knees and feasted on his ass as he moaned and squirmed. I wanted to get him lubed up enough so that I could fuck him. Surprisingly I had no lube or condoms on me as I'm usually prepared for dates but who knew the night would turn out like this. I stood up, took my rock hard dick and smacked both his ass cheeks with it and made an attempt to enter him. It didn't work. I was too big to get inside of him without lube. Once we both realized that intercourse wasn't gonna happen, which was the best thing seeing that I didn't have a condom, he took my dick back into his mouth and sucked it ravenously until I ejaculated down his throat. As I tried to regain my composure he stood back up, kissed me, and invited me back over later to chill and of course to fuck.

Later that day I came back over, we chilled and talked and as we conversed I learned more about him. I even started to vaguely remember him from high school. I also remember why we never associated back then. He used to hang with the gay crowd, I didn't. At that time I was not that confident in my sexuality and even if I were I definitely didn't have the balls to hang with the gay crowd, not that I wanted to anyway. One thing led to another and we ended up having glorious, passionate, raw sex. Of course I know fucking raw is risky and just plain wrong, especially nowadays. I was going against my better judgment by doing it but he didn't like condoms and I liked him so I did it.

I remember how I had him in missionary position on the bed stroking him slowly but steadily making his bed creak with every thrust of my pelvis. The looks of pleasure on his face was so beautiful that I couldn't keep my eyes off him. In an effort to quiet things down as his mother was in the next room Jack stopped me and laid out a sheet on the floor and we proceeded to have sex down there. I remember that being some of the best sex of my life. Not because it was raw, but because of him. I wanted him so bad, he was so alluring and sexy to me. I liked him but I also sensed that he was a coquette who probably ate nice guys like me for lunch, I was trying not to fall, not to give him too much of myself but I couldn't help it, it was euphoric. To hear the vulnerability in his quiet moans and feel him grip my body so tightly as I went deeper inside of him was amazing. It gave me hope that maybe he was different, maybe he could be the one. I was falling for him.

From then on we spent just about every day of those next few weeks after that together and if we weren't together we were talking on the phone constantly. Due to lack of opportunity (we both lived at home at the time) we didn't even get to have sex again. Even so we had grown very closely very quickly and as usual in my life that spelled trouble. I didn't want things to end when he left. I told him that he was special to me and that even though we were gonna be apart it didn't mean we couldn't be together. We discussed it, scheduling, visiting, etc., and basically laid the ground work for a long distance relationship (I know, I know, don't look at me that way). The outcome of the arrangement was that we would see each other at least once a month between me going out there and him having school vacations and coming back home. It seemed at the time that our little arrangement could actually work.

So he left to go back to school and that same night I booked plane tickets and a hotel room for three weeks later. We were on the phone constantly for that three weeks. I'd be on the phone with him at work all night and on the phone with him at home everyday. He would tell me about his friends at school. I would talk to them. I would tell him about all that was happening at home. He would always tell me how much he missed me and how he couldn't wait to see me. I remember how we would send each other pictures back and forth and how I would look at his picture in my cell phone and smile and long for the day I would see him again.

As the day I was scheduled to leave was approaching the calls got less and less and I could feel him slipping away from me. Even when we did talk I could feel him backpedaling away from our original agreement. But even with that he was jealous when it came to me talking or seeing other people. Now that I think about it that's probably why he kept me on the phone all damn night all the time. While he was stuck in some hick town I was living here in New York, 'the fine ass ethnic men's capital of the world'. What's crazy is that with all the men here to choose from I only wanted him and here he was casting me aside, but still wanting me to be faithful to him.

He was really hurting me so in an effort to ease my pain I did the only thing I knew how. I went out and got my dick sucked by somebody else. As fucked up as it was, knowing that someone else in this world was attracted to me gave me this temporary pseudo-strength I felt I needed to deal with this situation. Like Popeye, you know, the sailor man? Popeye is to spinach as Adam is to getting his dick sucked, that was my spinach.

As the days passed things only got worse and worse. I wanted to just cancel the whole thing and maybe start something with the kid that had sucked my dick a few days prior. But I had already scheduled the time off work and paid for non-refundable plane tickets and a part of me still wanted to see Jack. All I could think about was the time we spent together and the way I fucked him on the floor of his bedroom, that shit was so amazing. I really wanted to be with him. Needless to say I was panicking. Not only was this hurting my heart, it was wasting my time, and even worse than that, it was costing me money. As much as I wanted him he was pissing me the fuck off.

The night before I was scheduled to leave I was at work and we got into a big argument after which I decided 'Fuck you, fuck this, fuck it! I'm not going'. He basically told me in a nutshelI that I'm basically on my own in his town. That if I saw him I saw him, if I didn't I didn't. He wasn't even gonna stay in the hotel with me. What the fuck was I gonna do in a city that I have never been too, don't know anybody in, and don't know a motherfuckin' thing about? Was he serious? This was no vacation, I was coming to see him. I remember him being such an asshole about it too. He was so aloof. He didn't care that I was putting my whole life on hold to come see him. He made it seem like this was all my big idea, as though we hadn't talked about and agreed to this. Now that I think about it, what the fuck did he have to lose here? We were the same age but here I was working my ass off making a pretty good living for a 22 year old while he was a broke ass college student who was gonna be coming to New York back and forth during holidays regardless. His obligation to me was no more than a bus ride across town while I'm flying across the country. I was the one making all the sacrifices in this deal we made and now he wants to pull the fuck away, ain't that a bitch! Granted, yes I was stupid to think that a homosexual that I knew for only about a month and a half at that time would do something crazy like honor his word.

What was so crazy and hurtful was that I wondered how much of what he was saying this and doing this whole time was real? Was he just faking it the whole time? And If he was faking, why would he? Why is even pulling away like this? What happened, what did I do? As much as I wanted answers to these questions I sure as hell wasn't gonna call his ass back and ask, fuck that. Now is the time for action.

So I canceled the hotel and the plane tickets. The airline said that I could keep half the money I paid for the tickets on hold, something like a store credit. I told my best friend Russell, who lives in a city about halfway between me and Jack the situation and he suggested that I take the bus down and come visit him since I had the time off, I agreed. I also made plans to visit my sisters, who I hadn't seen in a while and happened to live only 90 minutes west of Russell in an effort to kill two birds with one stone.

I'm on the bus in Newark, New Jersey, about 20 minutes outside New York and my cell phone rings and of course it was Jack. I had been ignoring all of his phone calls since the argument and didn't bother to tell him that I was not coming to see him. I thought my hanging up on his fallacious faggot ass would have implied that. But I decided that I wanted to revel in the pleasure of telling him that I wasn't coming, as though he would actually care. I answered. He got on that phone and cried and sobbed like a baby and apologized for everything he said and damn near begged me to come see him. I melted like a suppository in the crack of somebody's ass. I ended up going to see Russell but I cut that trip short and due to time restraints cut my sisters out altogether. I got a refund for my bus tickets to my sister's place and back to New York, bought a new more expensive, last minute plane ticket from Russell to Jack and used the credit I had on hold for a new flight home. I called the hotel and begged them to reinstate my employee rate. All of this costing me more money.

Three days later arrived in Jack's city. I got myself settled and armed with a bus map of the city that I had been studying for the last two weeks I went to pick Jack up from school. And there he was, just as fine as I remembered. Seeing him just made everything okay, the argument, the canceled tickets, the money, everything. We had sex again that next night and it was amazing again. We also fucked raw again which of course is wrong on so many levels. I know I don't talk much about the HIV and STD's on my blog but please don't fuck raw. Every time I think about the times I did it (mostly when I first came out and didn't know any better I cringe). If you're currently practicing raw sex please stop.

All during the trip he would introduce me to people as his "friend", even at the club we went to where dudes were flirting with him left and right. When I questioned him about that and exactly what the status of our relationship was he hit me with the ol' "We're still not in a relationship." one, two sucker punch to the gut. After flipping the bill for everything on that trip, food, the club, cabs, etc. This nigga never even opened his wallet, but I guess you can't pay for anything with cobwebs. Needless to say, I was emotionally and financially spent. I wasn't even so much hurt, I was numb and more importantly low on cash. I just came to the conclusion that this was it. It was over. At least I got my nutt off, right? And now I don't have to sit and wonder what could have been. Jack is officially an asshole, one that feels great stretched out around my dick, but an asshole nevertheless. I fucked him but he flipped me over and ended up fucking me... again, right in between the ventricles.

Oh by the way, I hope you didn't think it was over. So when I got back to New York I made a conscious effort not to speak to Jack. I got with the kid that sucked my dick and of course that ended. Soon after I found my way back to Jack's house and in his bedroom back at the scene of the crime. I found myself in his bed, again, quietly fucking him raw, again (see, you have to stop that shit before it becomes a habit), under his manipulative spell again. I was a little wiser the third time around and did not press any type of commitment or relationship issues. I kept it strictly as sex but I know that if he would have wanted me to I would have still dropped everything to be with him.

Eventually with some time contemplation and deliberate and complete avoidance (sometimes it takes just that) I totally got over Jack. I started to see him for the bullshitter that he was. I don't hate him at all, we'll still communicate via MySpace every once in a while. I've even seen him in the club a few times and he'll flirt with me and it does nothing. I'm totally over him now and when I see him I wonder how I ever got so far under him in the first place and how I ever let him manipulate me the way he did. I also wonder how I fell so deep for Jack and thought that things could actually work with him after knowing him for ten minutes. It truly is amazing what a boy can do, both boys involved.

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Playing In The Background...
"Amazing"
by Madonna
from the album "Music"
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