Back on the Horse

Abstinence in both senses (not masturbating and not watching porn) ended about two days ago. But I found I was fine with not watching porn, and don't particularly miss it. But the odd days where the frustration of not having sex, it served its purpose. Though the result of that is just making me want to sleep with someone more.

So I've found myself on Scruff. I think I downloaded the tablet version ages ago but didn't make use of it since I figured the main boon of these apps is finding people when you're out and about. But after having a look around, I decided to make a profile. Compared with my experience on Grindr, I have gotten a better response on Scruff. Maybe the fact I have a picture showing my full face this time helps, I don't know. I guess I'd have to test out Grindr with the same photo and see. Though honestly, I like the type of men on Scruff more. I've got a thing for bear types.

I've not exactly been swamped under with messages or anything, but I'm enjoying what I'm getting so far. Didn't really consider this when I signed up, but since it's around Christmas there are a few people from out of town visiting and probably some who live here off visiting other towns and cities. I guess once the New Year is over and everyone is back home, I'll have a better idea of who's on normally.

I've found I've been a bit more daring and forward with Scruff. I like pressing that little 'Woof' button, even if I don't have the chance of meeting up with them. It's just a non-verbal way of telling someone they're hot, and I've got a couple of messages back from doing so. Earlier this evening I was trading pictures and banter with a guy and found it felt a lot easier and smoother than it might have a year or two ago. I can't accommodate and given the season not all the guys can either, so it's not lead to meeting up with anyone yet but if the opportunity was there it could happen. Really makes me want to get my own place soon (as if I didn't already).

As well as chatting with new guys, I've found a couple I'd spoken to before but didn't get to meet. One guy seemed pretty keen although he didn't remember us talking before. And there's J.C., who is the same as ever. If I'm more comfortable having sexually-charged then he's probably the reason. Had the most practice with him than anyone else.

About a week ago I was ready to become a hermit, I was in such a bad mood after a really bad experience on a night out. But now I'm feeling more upbeat.

But if you'll excuse me, I'm going to end this here. Some guy has sent me a picture of his cock and I want to try to work out a plan to get that inside me one way/hole or another.

Day 20 and Out

Abstaining from wanking lasted about 20 days, as of last night. Which is still the longest I've ever gone without that I can remember.

Still, it was without watching porn which was the main point behind this. Not masturbating was mainly an effort to 'retrain' myself. I had been close to looking at stuff online earlier on, but managed to resist it. I found I didn't really think of anything. It was focused on the physical sensations of it.

To be honest, I have just felt sexually frustrated for ages now and that probably was the biggest reason for doing it. It was a relief, but it didn't actually feel great. At least, not as good as I expected doing it after a period of abstaining would feel. I would have rather done something with another guy, but I haven't exactly felt much like that lately.

I'll probably try again and see if I can last the same amount of time or longer, unless something changes. I am kind of hoping for some change, but I'm trying not to get my hopes up much.

***

But either way, the 'no porn' thing was the main thing I was trying to accomplish. I'm happy with myself for sticking with it.

One thing I don't really miss is the whole 'gay-for-pay' thing. As a genre of porn, I don't really get the attraction of straight guys. To clear this up a little because I find hard to explain succinctly, I don't mean attractive guys who happen to be straight. Because God knows I've been there enough times to understand that. But when these guys being straight is the main lure. I get the whole 'tempting a hot straight guy into doing something gay' fantasy, or maybe wanting what you can't have, but when it's all fake I just don't feel it.

And guys who identify as straight doing it for the money. I'm sure not every woman who has had lesbian sex in porn is off playing around with woman in their personal lives. But I don't know, the idea that it's all about the money is something I find off-putting. I'd rather be watching someone who would do the same stuff for fun, than someone you had to tempt with money to get in front of a camera and doing this stuff.

Then there's the ones where guys need to be watching straight porn to do anything with another guy. The sound of porn playing in the background within the porn I'm trying to watch is distracting enough, at least when there's the affected moans of female porn stars (possibly overlapped by affected male moans in the main feature to boot). When that porn-within-a-porn involves some woman screaming and moaning, it really takes me out of the moment. If I was watching a video of men having sex with each other, listening to a woman's sex noises isn't what I was looking for. At least try to edit out the sound from the TV, or try not to include the television in shots. Or find someone who actually likes cock in the first place. That helps.

Although I never saw it myself, I read about some scene involving Patrick Bateman (think that's his name), where he was fucking someone while resting a straight porn magazine on the guy's back. I know everyone has their own things they find sexy, but to me that has just crossed over the line into "time to turn this off now" territory. Even if it was just part of the story of this scene that he was straight or something (don't know his actual orientation, not bothered enough to look it up), it feels really tacky to me.

But as a wider overall genre, I don't understand the appeal of 'I'm 100% straight and will always be'. I can find any random guy I don't know hot, whatever sexual orientation he has. But it becomes a lot hotter if I find out he's gay/bi. That they would enjoy the act of having sex with men is a massive boon to the whole experience.

I decided before, when I had finished with the course of PEP, that I needed to be my own defender. I was the one who had to stand up and look out for what I want, keep my boundaries and limits, to not let myself be compromised and pressured into things or to just let events occur without trying to steer them in the direction I truly want.

The problem has been that my way of doing this so far has greatly resembled how I dealt with people during a lot of my teenager years and early twenties: putting up a lot of walls and simply not letting anyone in.

I'm not as bad as I was back then. I go out fairly regularly with a group of guys, I've got other things going on in my life and am moving towards a more defined and concrete goal compared to the aimlessness that marked my adolescence and early adulthood. But I hazard to call any of these guys my friends yet, despite knowing them for a several months now and getting along with them, because I tend to revert back to staying silent and keeping to the background a bit. I'd like them to be my friends, but it's hard reaching that point.

The last time I had anything resembling a date with a guy was when T.S. and I briefly got back together for all of a week. The last time I had sex and enjoy it doesn't spring to mind too freely, I think it was P (P&D) but that wasn't really an emotional thing. But then, not many of my sexual experiences have been. I mostly haven't had sex with anyone I've been emotionally attracted to.

I suppose sex is a big stumbling block for me, lately especially. End of the day I don't care if other people bareback, it's not affecting my life. But it ends up feeling that sometimes the rest of the world wants something different to me. While I know it's not true, it's just seems hard to find. I kind of dread when topics turn to sex because I don't really want to deal with getting asked if I bareback.

Logically, I know it's just a matter of meeting more people. Eventually you'll find people you find in with and who match you. I guess I've just been getting a bit pessimistic about things lately.

On a more optimistic note, I have managed 5 days of this abstinence thing. This is where I usually caved in, but I'm feeling good about my chances for this night. Hopefully sticking to something, even an arbitrary goal, will help motivate me when attempting something more meaningful.

Grindr

About two weeks ago I installed Grindr on my phone.

I was out at the time at a clubbing event, and saw a couple of guys using it. I had used it once before. Then promptly get rid of it. I was at home at the time, and it's not just my house, so I don't bring anyone here. I am kind of wary about these kind of GPS-based apps for that reason. I'm limited to going to either the guy's house or a hotel or one time a car on a country lane (or outside, which I've never done but it is too cold now to be trying that any time soon). The impression I get from people is that Grindr is basically for finding someone to fuck, with anything else a nice bonus.

I was drunk when I installed it. I wasn't really looking to meet anyone, I just wanted to see who was on it and what it was like. I didn't have any details filled out beyond the picture (drunkenly taken of the top of my head). Did manage to see profiles for two friends, which is always a bit of a strange experience. Though one of them I had seen on another site before meeting him, though I didn't realise this until looking through his pictures on Facebook and seeing the one he had used on his profile.

To be honest, I'm not really sure what I want from it. I filled out a couple of the profile fields today on the bus, but after looking at the section for what you're seeking I just saved and quit. I suppose it's because I am a bit of a mess lately (or all the time) lately, for one thing. There's stuff I'd like but don't necessarily know if I'm really up for. And another, I don't know what meanings the culture around Grindr puts into these terms. Like if you said 'dates', I'd expect to get a drink or coffee or something. I'd expect an actual date. Or chat, I don't really know what that's signifying. Friendly chat, or sex chat? Can't remember what the other options were (friends was one, I think?), since those two are the ones that stumped me.

Maybe over the next week or so I'll slowly fill in a bit more and actually try to use it, or delete my profile and try again when I'm feeling more sorted. I did get one message from someone, the morning after the night I installed it. I didn't reply, though. I don't know why I didn't. I probably have come across as proper jerk. Kind of regret that now.

***

I did see J.C. on there while sitting on the bus, though. I had tried looking for J.C.'s profile on the site we'd met on, but it seemed like he'd deleted it. He was supposed to be moving in January for a new job. But he was within half a mile (about 600-700 metres). I never got around to writing about what happened with us. We had something of a falling out, and things were never quite as good as they were before. After a bit he stopped contacting me or replying.

I quite liked J.C., even just from messaging him. And even though things didn't go as well as I'd have liked, the experience did lead to some good out of the bad times. I finally came out directly to one of my parents, after our plans to meet for the first time fell apart. It was probably the first time I ever really flirted with a guy in an overtly sexual way. I've started doing more of what I want and not putting other people first all the time since then.

Right now I don't think I will do anything about this. I kind of want to see him, but given how things went before I'm hesitant. All the problems came from my end. Not necessarily directly from me, but I still didn't stop them.

But this might be me clinging to the past and things I had, rather than moving on and forward.

I am probably going to be thinking about him while I'm trying to sleep tonight, though. (But no wanking; on day 3 of my four attempt at abstaining. My goal is to beat my previous best of 5 days.)

40 Days/Nights

I was one of those people who kept porn on their computer. I started watching it before streaming sites became big, and downloading it was just a habit. I mainly downloaded gay stuff, and watched straight things online. But I decided to just get rid of it all. Not just delete what I had, but not use streaming sites or anything. Complete abstinence from it. I don't know why I didn't do it before, deleting it, but I guess you form a kind of stupid attachment to it. I tend to hoard things anyway. All the bits of paper that come with DVDs or CDs or whatever I keep, even the plastic film it was wrapped in if there was a sticker on it or something. My computer is full of stuff I won't get rid of in case I need it later. This was just another side of that tendency, more digital hoarding.

I was reading websites where people talk about how using Internet porn had messed them up in various ways. Sexual dysfunction, needing more and more extreme porn to get the same thrill, guys who has no interest in men needing gay porn to get off. That last one kind of struck a cord with me, except with the sexualities switched around. The last dozen or so times I've masturbated, it has been mostly to straight porn. And then things like threesomes or gangbangs (probably because there are more males in those, since I don't get much arousal from the female participants). So there was times, as I have written about here before, where I wondered if I was bi or something. Not to the same level as 'gay OCD' sufferers who worry they might be gay and are really troubled by it, but still.

And there are times when I just couldn't keep my mind on having sex, and would end up 'replaying' porn in my head. Which actually happened the first time I had sex. I'm trying to remember when I have actually orgasmed during sex (except oral, which has a grand total of twice), and I am not sure if I have now. I have enjoyed it, and there were probably other factors at play, but something is obviously not working right there. So what do I have to lose?

To be honest, I have grown ambivalent towards porn lately. Maybe a bit more negative than just simple ambivalence. I am not about to go around condemning it, or telling other people what they should do. I have just become cynical about it as a whole. Looking at attractive people is nice, and watching them have sex is nice. Just as a consumable item, as a piece of entertainment, it has lost appeal for me. I look at what it adds to my life, and there's nothing, really. The chance to see guys I will never have sex with, having sex with other people (sometimes not even of the gender I'am attracted to)? Sex acts I haven't tried? Situations that I'm unlikely to experience personally? I suppose there are those, but I have grown far too pessimistic about the whole industry to really enjoy it. So I am taking it out of my life. See what it is like to completely remove it and any influence it might have. 'Rebooting' myself back to a state before it.

('Industry' is something that could easily apply to any type of entertainment medium, and there is of course a lot of amateur stuf out there now, but still.)

 ***

First time I saw porn, probably like a lot of guys, it was stuff my dad had. There wasn't really much special about it, except one magazine had an older guy pissing in a young woman's mouth (the word 'vintage' is forever tainted for me by its use in the caption of that image), and that the guy looked like the music teacher at my school. But there was this big collection of magazines that formed a series about sex, talking about different topics and giving techniques. More informative than pornographic (though at that age it was still enough to get me hard). There was one issue that had an article on being gay. I can't remember now if it was about being gay yourself, or your child being gay. I have a gut feeling it was the latter. I have the memory of pictures of a man and woman sitting with their daughter, and another pair talking to their son. At that time I wasn't 'gay' yet, but there was something about that article that stood out to me more than the others.

While I don't think had much idea about my sexuality growing up, I did have that feeling of being different in some way. I wouldn't say that I was one of those guys who 'always knew' considering most of the crushes I had up until e age of about 13 were on girls, but I did feel like there was something that wasn't quiet the same. I'm not one to really try to psychoanalyse the past and figure out why things happened. I don't have a good enough recollection, so any insights are probably going to be influenced by what I know or feel now. It doesn't really matter to me if I was always the way I am now or if it is something that shifted and changed as I grew.

I kind of want to read that article again, but those magazines were thrown out years ago. There is not really any need to read it, since I won't really learn anything useful. I don't have kids or plan on having any in the near future (and I should hope I'd be accepting of them being gay) and my parents have either taken my coming out really well or are likely to. Nostalgia is probably the main reason, It's moments like this that make me hoard things!

***

This 'giving up porn' thing also includes another sacrifice: no wanking. It was part of the whole 'rebooting' program I had read about. I am aiming for about a month. Seeing as how I can't motivate myself like an adult, I am motivating myself like a child with the promise that I will buy something big and expensive if I make it.

So far, it's not going too well. I can go about four days before I give in. Trying this thing, it has surprised me how many times I might have found myself idly looking at porn during a week without any specific intention. It is something I didn't expect to need to look out for.

I am back on day 1 today. I wondered what it would mean if I had sex, would that spoil the process, but yeah. I don't think I have to really worry too much about that spontaneously happening. It has been a long while now since anyone showed interest (or at least anyone I had any interest in back) so I don't think that's going to be too big of an issue here.

"Better to be hated than loved for what you're not"

After about 10 days of being ill and housebound, I got back to getting back to my normal schedule. On Wednesdays and Thursdays, I pass one of the few gay bars in town on my way back home. This Wednesday, I decided I'd go in on my own.

Just for a drink before I go home, I said to myself. Really, though, I was kind of hoping for something more. Maybe not a lot more. Lately I have alternated between wanting to just get laid yet not being comfortable with the idea, wanting to and being comfortable enough with myself, and just plain not wanting to be touched at all. I would have been satisfied making out with a stranger now that I wasn't constantly coughing (progressed to 'only every now and then').

That didn't happen. There was only one other guy in this basically dead bar. I made the effort to sit near him, but that was it. He looked my way a couple of times, I looked his. He was dressed for the winter that's not quite here yet, but looked alright from what you could see. And then I just sat there and realised I had no idea what to do in this situation. In the past I've always relied on someone else taking the lead. I might have showed a bit of interest, but it was up to the other guy to decide where it was heading. Actually, no. I do know what to do. I just don't have the confidence or the guts to do it yet. Hopefully someday soon I will, but this was not that day. I finished my drink, went to the toilet to scream internally at how useless I felt, and walked out to get my bus. The guy looked at me on the way out. (Trying not to really read much into this. Maybe he was interested but also couldn't do anything about it. Maybe he was just looking at the only other male in the bar.)

***

Listened to a little talk on gay stereotypes yesterday. It's something I needlessly worry myself about at times. I don't really dislike myself if I conform to certain stereotypes or anything like that. There can seem to be a certain pride in not 'being too gay', the whole straight-acting/no-femmes thing. That's not really anything I concern myself too much with. I suppose I worry about it because it would have caused a lot more friction between me and my brother to do anything he saw as a 'gay' thing. I might check my behaviour around him to avoid any unnecessary grief, but I don't care about his opinion on how I live.

Of a more preoccupying note would be how other gay guys expect me to be. One of the things that got mentioned was how people can start to think they have to be out there having sex as much as possible and with as many people as possible. I was already giving myself that pressure before I even understood what sleeping around really meant (I assumed I would have to date a certain number of women and then get married; I really have no idea where my preadolencent ideas about relationship came from). When I finally got exposure to gay life, it didn't really help matters.

Maybe the reason for that is when gay lifestyles are focused on, it's going to be the stuff that's different from 'normal straight' life that's going to get all the attention. You're not going to hear about the mundane and common, you're going to hear about stuff like saunas and cruising and all that. Most gay magazines seem to have a lot of focus on sex, or sexualised content. I don't really know if I am that kind of person, or what kind of person I am at all.

Not that there's anything wrong with that.

I suppose I've just been in an increasing apathetic mood lately. I'd like to have sex, but I kind of want more than just that. I could go to the sauna in town and have sex. Could go online and find someone to have sex with. I can get Grindr on my phone now. But things like living situations and life in general kind of take the motivation to do anything about that out of me. (And I'm still not sure on Grindr yet.)

In the midst of getting my life sorted out, I'm apparently having something of an identity crisis.

I have been thinking about travelling a bit. Just to get away for at least a week or do and do something different, be somewhere different. I've never left the UK before, so I wanted to go overseas for the first time. Not had a proper holiday since I was a child. At the moment I am thinking America or Canada, hopefully visit some friends.

Originally, I had other ideas. I wanted to go to France for a weekend with T.S. at one point. He wanted to learn French, and I wanted to go away somewhere with a partner. That was really getting ahead of myself, since it was still early days when that ended. But I've been thinking more and more I want that more than sex ('course, having both would be the best of both worlds but what are you going to do).

Not With You

3 months, that's a fairly long break and another unplanned one. Though I've been pretty busy lately with a few things to sort out, a lot of it is probably down to not having much to write about here nor having the motivation to write much. The biggest issue, and I use that word in the most negative sense I can, would be T.N. who I mentioned before without a proper title.

This was the night I mentioned in the "PEP: Final" post, he was the guy I was with in the bar. The two most salient parts of the night were in the bar. Me and Red Shirt. When T.N. came back and Red backed off, that really got to me. It is kind of rude to be getting off with someone and leaving a friend there on his own, but still. I wondered in my head, does he think we're a couple? It has happened a lot over the past month or so. People keep asking if we're an item now.

We're not. Chances of that happening? I wouldn't get my hopes up. Shame that T.N. already has. I'm pretty easy-going as far as taste in men goes, but sorry T.N., you're not one of them. One of the guys who asked us that? I would. With little hesitation, I would go with him.

And is this perception costing me opportunities to date men I might actually be interested in? Did Red back off because he didn't want to be making out with me in front of what he thought was my partner?

It was his badgering me about dating him that is starting to ruin things for me, even as a friend. While I was playing pool, he texted someone and told them he might have a potential boyfriend. Me. No. No, you bloody well don't. Not in me. Yet I don't deny I might be to blame for leading him on. Because I went to bed with him a couple of times. I guess I just wanted to have sex again, or at least be in bed with a guy. It was usually after a night out, when I was drunk, ending up back at his (mostly because he didn't even try to get me to my home and went straight to his) and then in his bed. Nothing really special to write about, except he did try to fuck me. Didn't work because he couldn't keep an erection with a condom on. "We'll have to find some way around that, if you're okay with that." Yeah, I didn't like the sound of that. One of the things I dislike about him is how he can phrase things in such opaque ways that I don't know what he's trying to say.

So back on the night with Red. I have a nice bit of a kiss with a handsome stranger. I'm nearly sick in the toilet, and feeling like shit. I decide to go home. Lucky for me, the bus stop is right outside this pub. Only T.N. has other ideas. He doesn't want to send me off home on my own. Says it is for my sake, didn't want to leave me in my state. I'm not really sure about all that now, to tell you the truth. I don't really have much faith in his motives towards me.

So a few minutes later, I'm on a taxi on the way to his house again. Then straight to bed. I want to just sleep, but that didn't really happen. He's doing most of the work, I am on my stomach praying not to vomit and hoping he will quit it soon enough. Then he starts feeling around my arse. Not the best situation, but I like being felt up. Then he tries to stick his cock in me. No warning or asking permission, no condom, not even any lube. 'Tries' is the operative word here, as it didn't work. It's tricky fucking me with prep, just ramming it in is only going to be painful. Which it was. At that point I recoil, draw my legs up and hide myself. This was after the whole barebacking thing, which I was still waiting to get my final blood tests done. And here's a guy, who I thought was a friend, just trying to shove his dick in me like that without even asking. In a way, it was worse than with M.B.: that time I had fucked him first, we were in the middle of having sex when he topped me. And he had the decency to use a lot of lube.

This, on the other hand, was just horrible. At this point, I end up having a panic attack. This is a first for me. I have had them in other situations, but never during sex. But it was the worst possible timing for this to have happened. I was still working through the whole PEP ordeal, still not completely comfortable with sex again, and now I was potentially in the same place again. In the cold reflection of hindsight, I was putting it on a bit. I wanted him to feel bad about it, honestly. I think the panic attack must have lasted about ten to fifteen minutes. I was crying a bit towards the end. That is another thing that's never happened before, crying during a panic attack. Then he starts crying. Eventually I calm down, he feels bad, we go to sleep.

The next morning, although I haven't really forgiven him, I let him touch me again. More because I wanted the physical contact even if it was from him. He kept asking (nay, badgering some more) for me to kiss him. And I was really reluctant to. Me, who normally really likes kissing. Who kisses strangers in pubs if I get half a chance. Who kissed every person I slept with, even if they weren't getting into it. And I'm turning my head away. Because it finally means something different. This isn't random bar guy kisses, or during sex kisses. This is the kind you'd do with someone you care about. And T.N. isn't that man. Another thing he pestered me about was letting him suck me off. Eventually, motivated by I don't even know what, I let him on that morning. It was actually the first time since the first time I ever had sex that I ejaculated because of sex. The way he kept saying 'thank you' afterwards made me want to leave even more.

As horrible as it sounds, 'snivelling' is how I saw it. If I didn't already have zero interest in dating him, his demeanour wasn't helping his case. Guess it is some mix of discomfort given what had happened and a dislike for that sort of grovelling behaviour. That was the last time I went to bed with him, and the last I have even been to his home. He has invited me a bunch of times, but I've turned him down. Right now I'm not sure if I would ever go back. At least not until he gets over me.

But I don't know if that has happened yet. I've fallen out with him in a big way. He told me once that he thought he found his soul mate, and I just cringed. I don't really believe in that sort of stuff, but especially not when you only know someone as superficially as he knows me. He would always say how we really understood each other, and I wondered who exactly he was thinking of when he said these things because it's obviously not the same reality I see.

I had gone out to the same bar I'd met Red in afterwards. All of our interactions since have had this kind of strained tension to them. This was thankfully broken somewhat when some people he knew came in, including P+D. I welcomed the interruption, and ended up playing pool with P. But while I was, I heard 'the guy in the hat?' from the corner he was in. I was the only person wearing a hat there. I am not entirely sure if I didn't glare at him with that, because it sounded like another assumption about what our relationship is and I didn't trust him to clarify or deny it.

He told me once that I could move in with him but that I would have to be his boyfriend. I'd told him I'd wanted to move, and it all felt like he was using something I wanted to bargain with me. He said we could have an open relationship, but that I couldn't bring men back to his house. I can't see much hope when your strategy for getting someone into a romantic relationship with you involves 'you can sleep with other people' before it has even started, without me even stating any interest in that at all.

But maybe it's just that at point, pretty much everything about him I find off-putting and unattractive. His voice and the way he speaks, the way he carries himself, how he sees things.

There was a period where I wasn't speaking to him nor he to me, which I thought would make things awkward considering most of the people I've been socialising with lately know him as well and have known him for longer than they've known me. I figured if something major happened, I'd be the one to lose out. He eventually started talking to me again, but I've been intentionally distant with him since. I try not to be left alone with him if I can help it. I leave places a little earlier so I'm not left being the last one there with just him, make quick exits if it looks like I'll be walking to the bus alone with him. Another friend had a word with him about how he'd been treating me. He was being a bit of a dick at one point. And truthfully I'm a dick to him because I don't trust his intentions towards me to be friendly, rather than wanting something more that I'm not ever going to give him.

Since then I asked out a mutual acquaintance but was turned down as he was seeing someone else. I was drunk at the time, which made me a bit braver and less cautious than I'd normally be. I am disappointed, in a way happy I took the risk for a change, but not sure how to deal with him after this. I was out with him the other day but didn't get to speak with him that much, and then he met up with this guy and I went home before he rejoined the group. After thinking on it with a sober mind, I'm not in a place where I'd be happy with dating at the moment anyway. There's a lot of other things in my life that I'd like to sort out first. But I wanted to make that step forward.

I'm hoping that T.N. will get over me and move on soon. I wouldn't let that stop me, either way.

PEP: Final

This has been a long time in the making. Or would have been had I actually been writing it, but rather I have just had a lot going on that I haven't really had the time or motivation to sit down and write something here. This isn't particularly the kind of thing I can just sit down and write anywhere (not that I have the ability for that either way), I need to get into the right state mentally for it.

To cut to the chase: I was at the clinic this morning for the results of my last blood test. All good news, all negative (including others like syphilis, Hep B which I'm currently being inoculated for again since the last course of injections didn't take, and one other I missed the name of because I was spaced out a bit). There was a very literal sigh of relief upon hearing that. As I walked home, in the miserable rain currently causing havoc here, my mood didn't quite match the weather. I walked around the city centre to pick up some things and put the whole situation out of my mind, but walking along the road home alone I got back to thinking about a couple of things.

One of which being, would I recommend PEP to people? I instantly balked at how I phrased that to myself. It's not some choice of food or a consumer product you rate and rank, it's serious medicine with an important function. In a sense I would 'recommend' it. If it is something you're concerned about, HIV transmission, then it is more or less the only thing you can do after the fact, at least for the time being. That being said, I would say know what you're getting into. Some people, like myself at one point, had the mistaken idea it was a quick pill you take. It's not. It's a month of half a dozen (or more) pills that have some pretty unpleasant side-effects. It's not an easy ride, which leads to people giving it up sometimes. You have to be prepared to put up with feeling like shit for a while, in addition to the routine you need to keep in taking the pills. And even then it's not a guarantee that you'll come out fine on the other side. There's a high percentage that it will work, but there's still about 25% it won't. And it isn't something you can take over and over. It has the same toll on the body as medicine for HIV patients (being just that, exactly the same), which some people don't react well to. And from what I have heard, they won't keep prescribing it to you. You might get it twice, but after that they will be reluctant to keep providing it. I don't know how useful my account of this can be, despite first-hand experience, but if anything good can come from this blog hopefully telling this (even to the faceless Internet and any strangers who happen upon it through Google) then that would be another positive from this whole thing.

The second thought was about how I would internalise this event. I considered a couple of ways. There was the socially responsible and healthy stance, that this was a mistake I learn a lesson from and never allow it to happen again. But then there were less than sensible ones. What if I took the outcome as an excuse to think that it was all worrying for nothing, that I could run off and do it again and be fine because I was fine this time? That wasn't really a view I held, maybe an idea I toyed with for a few moments, but never held with any conviction. It is just a negative image of myself I need to get over, that I will make the wrong choices for me and won't be able to help myself.

Admitted, the whole situation (and others in recent weeks) have kind of put me off sex a bit. I've been to bed with a guy a couple of times, but it wasn't the best of times or circumstances or company. Subject for another post, really.

To be honest, the only time I have felt remotely eager to have sex was about three or four weeks back. I was in a bar with a guy I know after a day out with a group, played pool while these two guys watched. I had been drinking since mid-afternoon (including a double whiskey for £10 which I instantly regretted at that price; I don't even like whiskey that much) and was feeling it. I lost 2 games to 1, and went to sit down in a little booth-like alcove. Sitting turned to laying down before long. One of the guys who was watching the pool, wearing a red shirt, before came to see if I was okay. I said I was just drunk, he gave me a quick kiss and left back to his friend. When the guy I was with left to get drinks (why he was buying drinks for someone so clearly wasted I do not know) he came back again to check up on me. And for a longer kiss. Which was nice. I have to admit, kissing is probably one of the things I like doing most. I am sure I have probably said it before here, but I hate sleeping with people who don't kiss. I find it really off-putting. I'm told (a fair bit, actually) that I'm rather good at it, though I have no idea why or what I am doing that's special. I guess I am just a 'natural' at it. But I was enjoying kissing this guy, and cursing myself for having gotten this drunk. He was older than me, he actually mentioned his age but don't ask me to remember (late 30's or a bit higher), and rather cute. It was at this point the guy I was with came back with more drinks, and me and Red Shirt stopped.

It actually annoyed me a fair bit, but I will write more about that some other time. I end up going to the toilets, nearly throwing up, and the rest of the night is pretty bad. But I really wished, for the first time in a while, that I could do more with this guy. I went back there earlier this week, with the faint hope that he'd be there (he wasn't, the place was all but dead). If I see him again, I hope he will remember me and maybe we can pick up from where we left off. But honestly, there is a part of me that's anxious. Worried that each time I have sex it will be like M.B., someone pushing me into something I don't want to do. Thinking that I can't really trust people. That I just want something different that every other gay guy wants these days, that everyone wants to be out barebacking every time and I don't. (I know logically that's not true, and I know guys who don't want that. But I never claimed to be a logical thinker all the time.)

***

Two weeks ago I had another appointment at the clinic. I thought that was the date I was due to have my blood taken. Apparently it wasn't, so I had to reschedule for a week later. So last week I was back and losing two vials of blood. But I saw one of the health advisors before I left, though not the guy I had been talking to the past few times (Top Cat—I forgot his real name when they asked me; couldn't very well say to the nurse "I just call him T.C."). The main thing I took from the conversation with her, which tied in nicely with some other stuff that had been discussed around me previously and that I brought up myself, was that the only person who is always going to be there for you is you yourself. You're the only defender you can rely on to always be around when you need it. It's a case of treating yourself like you're worth protecting, and like you do have the right to put what you want for yourself.

I grew up letting other people make a lot of my choices for me, letting people speak for me even if I didn't want them to or they said something completely opposite to what I truly felt. But people aren't always going to have your best interests at heart. They might not know what you want. They might not care. Their values could be totally different from yours. Especially in fleeting encounters like casually fucking someone you don't even know, you just don't know. So that's when you have to step up for yourself. For what you want, the life you want to lead, the person you want to be.

Sitting in that room, with another week ahead of me waiting for my results, I decided that I have to be the one who stands up for me. I don't want to keep getting dragged through life doing what other people want of me. Obviously there is a balance, you can't completely have your own way all the time. But there are times when you need to stand your ground and say what you want, or don't. I told the advisor I was about 50/50 on my ability to do that right now. But 50/50 is still good. It's half way there.

Coming Home

I took another unplanned hiatus from this blog, nearly a month. It was a rather eventful month, though not sexually. I haven't had that much time to spend online, since there has been more to keep me busy than there has been in a long time. But it has been a really good month, probably one of the best I have has in a while. And a lot of that is down to myself, how I feel about things and process them. How I view people and events. I am feeling good about the way things are going. It's not perfect yet, and given the nature of life will probably never get there. But it's going good. As a personal goal for this blog, I wanted to be able to look back on it and see the changes I have made. And while it's too late at night to go into detail, I have seen them. Changing yourself is hard to do, and it is something that has taken me years to work through. But it finally seems like something broke. In a way, that whole PEP experience was what did it. I won't say that I am thankful for it having happened, but I am happy with the way I dealt with it. It took me to rock bottom emotionally, but I have picked myself up and ended up stronger for it. Or maybe realised that I am the one who has to look out for me. There are still plenty of times when I feel like I would punch the guy who fucked me if I ever saw him again. I might have taken myself to a better place from it, but I still haven't 'forgiven' him. I am one to hold grudges, even if I don't let them take over me. It's more the silent type of perpetual resentment. In this case, at someone who wouldn't take the time to ask if I was okay. But I am fairly confident that if that time should arrive, that I see him when I'm out somewhere, I will be able to ignore him. Whether that's the best course of action, I don't know. But it's the best for me. *** 'Confident' is still a strange word to use about myself. But I have come to believe that I do have that somewhere inside me. I need to do a little goal-setting to push me towards it. The other day I was out at a bar. Sitting outside in the little beer garden area with someone else, after everyone else we were with had gone, and this other guy who has been sitting at the next table. He had been asking for one of the guys with me to tickle his neck during the evening, before the others left. He butted in when I was talking to the remaining guy on my table when it was just us three, only something about the opening times of the pub. I had about two pints in me at this point, but I decided not to let this courage—wherever it came from—go to waste. I had set a goal of talking to people more, who better than someone completely new without the sense of security you get from a familiar face? So I spoke up. "Are you missing your tickles now?" I had thought it was cute, how he called them 'tickles'. And he was fairly cute himself. But he said he'd rather have a massage now. So I got out of my chair, sat behind him and rubbed his neck. This was the first time I had ever done thing, but after a while and a bit of coaching he seemed to be enjoying it. I spent about fifteen minutes rubbing his neck and talking with this stranger. I had taken the initiative, started this whole interaction myself. I was more annoyed than usually that I had to leave to catch the bus home, but I got a kiss goodbye (innocent closed mouth kiss, mind you) and a sense of accomplishment. If you had asked me two or three years ago, perhaps even just one year ago, if I could see myself doing that, I probably would have doubted it. But things have changed. Hopefully the next change will be to do that without need alcohol.

I don't tend to turn people down, even when if I were more confident in myself I might say no based solely on looks. I put a lot of that down to just not seeing myself as that much of a prize, not really being worthy of making judgements about other people's looks.

I don't think every sexual partner I have should be flawless, and have liked people even if they weren't what wider society would call very attractive. But I still don't enforce the tastes or preferences I might have because of the deficits I see when I look at myself.

It's also what stops me from making the first move and approaching someone myself. I wait for the other person to show an interest in me. I leave all the choice in their hands. They're the ones who are going to bless me with their approval (maybe 'pity' would be closer to how it feels sometimes).

So I meet someone I might be interested in, and do nothing at all. Because I've written myself off long ago. This happens in simply social situations as well. I'm wary about going up to someone and trying to make friends with them because I don't feel even that much value to myself.


Part of what's brought this post about is that there is someone who's interested in me. We're got things in common, but physically he isn't really my type. I think not wanting to hurt someone's feelings is a decent thing to do, but partly I don't want to turn him down because I don't think I have that right. That I'm not worth enough to hurt someone else.

Somebody That I Used To Know

Around the end of last year, I briefly dated a guy. For all of a week. I honestly don't know how to define what it was, and having never had anything serious to go on I have a limited frame of reference. It's just what I imagine having a boyfriend would be like, in the early stages of a relationship. This is probably the longest I've seen a single guy, except one. A week. Not out of any specific desire for these brief flings, but a general inability to maintain even the most superficial relationships with other people.

Things with T.S. progressed really quickly. Normally if I go on a date with someone (as opposed to hooking up), I'll see them a week or so later if I see them again at all. Two dates is usually the limit, it never works out beyond that. With T.S., the second was two days later. The first date had been pretty innocent, and the second only ended with making out.

The third was spent primarily in his bed watching films, in between bouts of fooling around. Which was still rather innocent compared to what I'm usually like. Didn't fuck, get fucked, and the closest I got to rimming him was kissing his arse. It was mainly making out, feeling each other up, and sucking and wanking. Neither of us came. There were other people in the house, and once they'd woken up (having been working nights) that pretty much put a stop to any idea of sex. Not a problem for some, I imagine, but I prefer a bit more privacy when having sex.

The forth went back to the pattern of the first. The fifth had been better in that sense, since it actually involved making out a lot more (mainly whenever we could get the time alone, or when passing like a couple would do). Not that any of the innocent days before had been bad, but making out was a nice addition. We spent the night at his friend's flat, while she was out for the night. That night followed the third date's lead. There was more of a push towards actually fucking, but probably due to the location we didn't go all the way. It was mainly him getting me on my back, lifting my legs up and teasing my arse with his cock. I was too tired and drunk to really do much, but I liked him doing that.

The fifth date lasted two days, but was also the last I saw of him. The final time we spend together was sitting on a station bench waiting for a train. There was a slightly daring side to him, in that he'd kiss at the end of the night regardless of there being people around. Affection in private can be a struggle for me at times, so this was a shock but a pleasant one.

But after everything seeming to be going well, it just seemed to die. There were a few messages exchanged, where he shared some news regarding troubles with work he'd been having. But after that I'd not heard anything back from him. That made me think that it's pretty much over. Then I tried to think of other possibilities. Maybe it isn't over, maybe he just lost his phone. But he has other ways of getting in touch with me, yet still nothing. He had talked before about not being used to having relationships, of freaking out and ending things. Not usually at such an early point as with us.

While I had mentioned a bit here not knowing if I wanted a proper relationship or not, after having experienced it--to the best of my knowledge of what 'it' is like--I find that I did like it. That it's not as terrifying as I might have imagined, and I am willing to have a go at it. And that I miss it now it's gone.

My focus now is trying to find the strength not to let a setback like this drag me down, and to move on having hopefully grown or learnt something about myself from this. But I didn't want all the new connections I've formed lately to end up like my past relationships. It's hard not to take the lesson that 'everything is going to end like this for you' from this.

So I took the initiative for a change and contacted him asking if he wanted to meet up. I did have the hope that we might pick up where we left off. I don't expect it to last forever anyway, but I would be open to it even if just for a few months.

The reaction was disappointing. I don't know how much of it is my projecting my own feelings onto reality, but there is something cold about his replies. Like he isn't the same guy who smiled at me and wanted to see me again as soon as he could. More like he didn't really want to be having this conversation at all (not that it was even anything heavy). I want to be strong, but I'm not there yet. My friends have tried to consoled me, tell me that it's his loss and I'll find someone better. But it doesn't feel like that. It feels like the one time things were looking like they were going my way, everything followed the same pattern of disappointment and eventual drifting apart that has happened with everyone in my life (barring family).

But I need to let go of this pessimistic way of seeing the world. Facing what seems like rejection is hard, and it can seem like you're that unlovable that no one is going to want to spend any time with you. But there are people, friends, who say they love me and want to be with me. I just need to accept that as reality and not try to doubt it.

But then two week, right before going to bed, I ended up crying my eyes out about the whole situation. When I thought I was over it, it seemed to hit me all over again.

I have abandoned any hopes of reconciliation at this point. I tried showing interest, he didn't show it back. Didn't even try to make any vague plans or agreements to see me again. Yet I still have his number in my phone. He took me off his friend list online, I haven't heard back from him in months, he didn't seem that interested when I contacted him. I supposed I don't have much reason to keep his number at this point.

Coming Home

The last couple of weeks have been hectic. A lot of things that needed sorting out, educational/training to get started, and I spent about a week away from home without an Internet connection. I did have sex—or at least started to before getting too tired to finish—during this absence (with the P half of P&D), and fooled around a bit with another guy although that didn't go all the way. I wrote a couple of bits of pieces during the last few weeks, which I should try to clean up and post. I have been going to that therapy course/workshop I mentioned before. I've been finding it helpful, having to think about and confront these issues. I didn't go to this expecting to hook up with anyone. To be honest, I went with the expectation that I would be free from that pressure. That's not to say there are a couple of guys there I might be interested in. I might not exactly be raring for it at the moment, but I'm not dead. But when other men, not the ones I was interested in but didn't have any hopes for, started showing an interest in me, it kind of took me aback. Twice in as many days, I had guys telling me I was good-looking. The first time it was easy to brush off, even if that isn't the best way to take a compliment. A 'thanks' and a smile, then moving on to other topics. But after that, it gets harder to deal with. I end up asking myself, "why me?" Exactly what is it you're seeing in me? I don't know what it is about me that would really warrant the attention. Telling me you don't know why I'd have hang ups about myself. I don't know if it really is that much of a mystery from the outside, but inside I don't feel like I am worthy of it. And I suppose it being from people who I wasn't initially interested in doesn't help. It just seems to add more support to the idea that no one I have a thing for is going to return my feelings. Even writing this feels bad. Because I think if I'm complaining, again, I'm going to look like the kind of person who goes on about how fat or ugly they are because they're looking for compliments. I don't think it matters what people say, I still am some way off believing them. But I did end up in the second guy's bed. We didn't have sex. Made out, he sucked me off, rimmed and fingered me, but that was about it. Instead I just got him to spoon me, lay behind me as I pulled his arm over me. That's all I reallyi wanted at that point. It was the same with P a fortnight earlier. That time I did fuck him, and he did me. He said he was actually mostly a top, which I was kind of glad to hear because I'd like to get fucked more. But I didn't come, nor did he. And it ended with my lying next to him. He asked what was wrong, why I seemed distant. That was a bit of a surprise for me, I didn't think I was being particularly distant. That's just my normal behaviour. But then maybe that is how I've come across to people in the past. Maybe the reason things not seem to work out, why I don't tend to see men more than a couple of times, is that there is something about how I'm acting that people take as being cold or something. It's something I would like to fix. I don't believe it's necessary to change every introversive trait, but this one doesn't feel like one worth hanging onto. Now it's just a matter of figuring out the method. But now I'm kind of anxious about this second guy, the one I didn't fuck/get fucked by. Because I don't know if he's looking for something a bit more than half-a-session in bed. Not saying 'for ever and ever' or anything, but a bit more meaningful or steady maybe. But I don't know if I'm in the right state for that right now. Just hoping things aren't going to end up awkward, or for him to think this is some fault with him rather than an issue I'm dealing with. With luck I'll be able to clear it up so it won't affect any social ties that might be forming or the progress with this workshop course.

Scene Debut

Last weekend was the first time I ever went out on the 'scene'. Wasn't exactly planned. I was just going to go to something being held in town, some kind of sub-event run by the local Pride organizers. But I got there about 30 minutes before it was meant to end, and couldn't even find where it was supposed to be. I decided to just explore parts of the city I've never really been to much before, as to not make the trip a complete waste.

I actually stumbled across the 'straight friendly' club I mentioned here by chance. But it's a lot more of a club, techno/electronic music and neon lights and everything. It's not really the kind of place I'd choose to frequent. If there was a basically a quiet 'local pub' that just happened to be gay, that would be ideal. Then again, my favourite pub would be fine as long as you're not making a public spectacle (though I think that'd go for straight couples too; it's just not that kind of place).

After that, and the relative success I had visiting that gay men's group a few days earlier, I decided I would go to the other bar/club I wrote about before in the post above. I didn't stumble on this one, and had forgotten where it was supposed to be. I had to rely on my mobile phone's crappy internet and limited Google Maps app that constantly stopped working. In the end, it was chance that I ended up in the right area. I kind of delayed my entrance because I ended up talking to a drunk walking his dog. As you do.

But I did finally get through the door. And it was a lot smaller than I thought it would be. All the gay bars/clubs in this city seem pretty small, but it's apparently not a very big scene. More of a 'everyone knows everyone' kind. I was going to just have on drink, sit at the bar, then go home feeling accomplished. Except the bar was full. So I look my Guinness and looked out at all the occupied tables. I stool next to a small table near the bar, contemplating that this might not have been a great idea, when I realised there was someone calling in my direction.

"It's a bear!"

At first I wasn't quite sure if it was directed at me. I just smiled shyly and looked down. Eventually I was called over to their table. So much for worrying about no one speaking to me. The 'leader' of the group, L.D., was the one who had done all the calling. And did a lot of the talking. I don't normally, nor intend to, reveal what these initials I use mean. But in this case, 'L' is for 'loud'. He had already had a few drinks by the time I showed up, but unless he's quieter when sober he isn't really the kind of person I'd spend a lot of time with. There were five others there, when they could get a word in. The rest seemed like a nice lot, though. By the time I had finished my drink, I had ended up getting my hands felt (very soft, apparently), showing the hair on my legs and chest, and invited to a different club I had walked past hundreds of times without realising it was a gay club. Two of the group weren't going, leaving just four heading there. And me.

Cue the slightly awkward taxi ride where I was asked if I had ever had 'bum sex' by the loud one.

This second club was like being in someone's living room, if they had a pool table, DJ booth, nightclub lighting, bar and about two dozen drunk men in it. Not what I was expecting. I was right before with my worries about the volume level. But I met a lot of new people, even if just briefly, and it wasn't as awkward or anxiety-provoking as I had secretly thought.

Two of the group were P&D, a couple. I spent the better part of the night talking to D. When I drink, I tend to start touching people more than I do sober. And I have to admit, I was pushing it a bit with D. I admit, I think I liked him the most out of the group so far. I had to lean in to even hear him over the music, and I started just brushing my hand against his leg. Thought I'd take advantage of being somewhere I was sure the stranger I'm talking to was gay. Then giving him a hug just to get that out of the way, and I just like hugs, I guess. Then I end up invited to go back to their place to have sex.

I was actually worried at a point that I might never have another threesome. Then here I am, first night out at a gay club with no intention of hooking up, and I'm getting taken home by two guys. That's either a testament to some hidden charm I have or more proof that men are just really easy lays (at least while you're still in your twenties).

***

There was talk of having something to eat first, but that ended up getting forgotten in favour of getting right down to it. I don't usually have sex drunk, but when I have had a drink I don't seem to worry about how I'm looking as much. But I also don't really feel quite in my right mind. I wasn't really sure what roles were going to be played, and I was wary of getting fucked. But wasn't in the best state to be saying no. The lesson I'm taking from this is don't drink too much if there is any chance of sex involved, if for no other reason than being able to perform better.

I was making out with D as he was on his back, with P kind of switching between rimming him and me. I really, really wish I had gotten more of a chance to make sure of I was clean enough for all that. Delightful side-effects of the PEP meds. But I was expecting to at most have a chat to someone at a bar tonight, this was so far from my plans I didn't prepare with such scrutiny. I kind of too his sudden dash to the bathroom then focusing on rimming D as the unfortunate answer to that question, but I was relieved, to be honest.

At this point, D was still on his back but now with P's dick in his mouth, and I was in between D's legs fingering him with P leaning over. This is where things go downhill. P starts saying something in a rather breathless voice. I didn't catch it all but it involved 'fuck him' and 'a condom'. The crucial part missing there was is that 'with a condom' or 'without' one? In my head, I was starting to curse my luck. I have possibly gotten myself into another of these situations, while still dealing with the last. P had talked about going to Manchester the following week, and while this city and its little scene might be considered 'low risk of HIV' Manchester is a different story. I was praying that he has said 'with' but didn't form a coherent response. He then left the room again, D calling after him. Said he seemed upset. When he returned and flopped him at the foot of the bed faced down, that 'seemed' became a lot more certain. I had no idea what was going on, and was soon back in my clothes and in a car heading home.

D explained on the way what the issue was. Apparently, P had thought I was planning on fucking D without a condom. For lack of a better word right now, P&D play a sort of 'game' with one another. If they bring another guy home, P sometimes basically leaves the burden of protection to D. Sees how long D will let things escalate before saying to use a condom. Sees if he will say it at all, because he thinks D wants it without. P has medical conditions that would be complicated by having HIV, whereas he thinks D will get by better with it. They have slipped up with it in the past, even P doing it himself. I tried to reassure D that I had absolutely no plans to be barebacking him tonight. But it's something they have to really sort out themselves. D kind of hinted at being tired of it.

The more I deal with other people, the less I understand them. I didn't even think that was possible.

The next day I got a text message from D. They had sorted out their issue, and wanted to know if I would go for a drink sometime and maybe pick things up where we left off. I said yeah. Hopefully with a clearer head and no ambiguity, and if necessary more of a backbone to stand up and say no.

PEP: Weeks 2, 3, 4

That was an unexpected hiatus, and I have no real idea how it happened. This past month has been a bit of a blur since I stopped posting about it. At times it seems to have been dragging on forever, and the next moment it feels like it all started just a few days ago.

But taking PEP has become a regular part of my day, though not a habit I've perfected. I've been hours off taking my doses so many times, although I never missed any. There has been times when I thought about packing it all in and stop taking it, mostly out of fatigue. Of having to worry if delayed doses would be a problem. Having to look down at this pile of half a dozen pills I have to take. I thought it would be the physical side-effects that would make me consider giving up on it, but it was actually the routine that got to me more. Out of the side effects of these meds, of which I've thankfully only seemed to get the most common and manageable, the tiredness and fatigue have been the worst for me. I barely felt like doing anything most of the time, only having recently starting to get back to the daily things I need to do. Not having the will to do anything probably contributed to my lack of updating this, but it's really been a monotonous month until recently.

But it's all almost over. I will need to drag myself out of bed tomorrow as I have my week 4 appointment at the hospital, which actually should be the last until the final blood test 3 months from now. I thought it was on Friday, but I got a text message telling me the 5th. At this moment, it feeling like one of those 'dragging on forever' times, and it's possibly almost over. I have about 10 days worth of PEP left. I had standard STI tests and blood and urine tests (to check liver and kidney functions) two weeks ago, so should get the results of those. While the extra medication helped keep the side-effects in control, it's not really perfect and despite still having 10 days worth of the tablets left I am hoping I can finally stop.

About the end of last week, I made my first outing that wasn't for an appointment since starting PEP. Top Cat, the health advisor at the hospital, mentioned this kind of support group run in the city for gay and bisexual men. I wasn't really completely sure what it was going to be like, so it was a bit nerve-wrecking. There was a moment standing in front of the door that wouldn't open that I considered just legging it home. But I stuck it out and after working up the nerve to use the video intercom I finally got let in. To attempt to make a theme out of this non-hook-up names, one of cartoon cats, the guy who showed me around can be Heathcliff.

It's an event that runs once a week during the evening. I was about an hour late, and since it was  the first time I'd visited I had a one-on-one talk with Heathcliff about what they offered there, what I was looking for from them, and some general stuff. I might have mentioned plans to follow through on a course dealing with (among other things) assertiveness. Turns out the programme they are starting up this week, tomorrow actually, includes basically what the other courses promised--with the addition of more sex related topics like putting your wants and needs about sex forward. The more I heard about it, the more it seemed like the ideal thing for me right now. I didn't actually get a chance to look in on the workshop going on that night, but they were about to rework the programme anyway and that was the last of the old type. So tomorrow they will be the first week of the new type. Not too clear on the changes between the old and the new programmes, but I don't suppose that matters now.

I'm looking forward to having the extra event in my week, the benefits of the course and also the social aspect. Pretty much all of these are things I could use more of in my life right now.

PEP: Day 6

If I could go back and change one thing, I probably would have stayed in bed that Thursday night. I was all ready to go to sleep, but for some reason went online to check out things I hadn't looked at since the end of last year.

Some guy just sent a message asking me to text him. Hello, his number, and "txt me". And then I did. Some guy I wouldn't exactly be falling over myself to be with. I guess it was literally a case of 'anyone will do' that night. There are a couple of anyones I would have rather been with, but getting the cold shoulder from them leaves you feeling dejected and desperate.

Top Cat said you just have to chalk these things up to experience. I've not really got much choice. But I guess it cleared up how I feel about barebacking with strangers. It didn't add anything to the occasion that I really needed. Which isn't actually a new thought, it wasn't something I was particularly confused about, but this was confirmation. That's all I can chalk it up to, and it'll have to do.

*

Finished up the 5 day PEP starter pack, onto the 30 days' worth I picked up from the hospital on Monday. As I was looking at the prescription, at all the boxes to tick relating to paying for it, I was dreading that I actually was going to have to pay something. I don't get my regular prescriptions from the GP for free, but what I pay is just over 1% (£7.40-ish) of what a month's supply of PEP would cost in full (£600). It was a massive relief when they just handed the bag over, no payment mentioned.

For the second time so far, yesterday I missed my evening dose by over 6 hours as I was asleep and didn't get up to take it at the right time. If I think I'm going to end up falling sleep before I'm supposed to take it, I might just do it a bit earlier. Trouble is I feel tired pretty much all the time, staying awake is easier said than done.

PEP: Day 5

I'm just going to assume someone introducing themselves as "discreet" in a message saying they can meet is looking for sex. Wrong time, mate.

But if I turn him down, after he's just told me he's black, am I going to look like those men on Douchebags of Grindr? I'm honestly just more interested in something innocuous and innocent like a bit of a drink or coffee. Save sex for a time when I'm not feeling on the verge of throwing up.

Started on the nausea medication yesterday. I was thinking of leaving it until it got too much to cope with, but at the clinic they said I ought to start now so the side-effects don't get in the way of my daily life so much. Ended up falling asleep at about 6pm yesterday, having not slept properly over the weekend, and missed the evening dose by over six hours. It was 5am before I took it. I have places to go, so I'm hoping things start calming down as the day rolls on.

Next clinic appointment is the Friday after next. I found it good to go yesterday and just be able to talk about it. I think I need to get everything out of my head, basically.

I'm feeling rather mellow today. Just going to take things a step at a time, try to just keep going.

PEP: Day 4

Sitting in bed right now, about to get ready to go to the clinic. Since yesterday I've had this persistent feeling of nausea without actually needing to vomit. You can feel it in your stomach and the back of your throat, but you don't get the relief of actually throwing up. It just stays there, along with the strange taste in your mouth. But the diarrhoea has started now. Super.

For a day or two it looked like I might get off lightly as far as side-effects go, but my luck seems to be running out there. Might start taking the other meds just to preempt it getting any worse. But it's possible I will have to cancel a lot of/all my plans for at least this week. I don't want to be out of the house and having to rush to a public toilet and stay there for 15 minutes.

I did at least get my PEP taken at the proper times today, so that's something to be proud about. Not sure if I need to bother taking the morning dose out with me to the hospital, since I should be done and home by then.

*

Looking back on M.B., I don't really know what I was thinking.

I'm pretty open about 'types' of guys, but even in his better-than-the-real-thing photo he wouldn't fall into what I'd consider attractive. Take the thing where you see someone you find attractive in the street, and you end up looking back at them once or twice or more, if you can get away with it (at least I hope that's a thing and not just me). Even on the way home from the hospital on Friday, with a bag containing this box full of pills in my hand, I couldn't help checking out a couple of guys. I don't really fixate on model-level good looks or perfect physique, just as long as there is something I find charming.

M.B. didn't really do any of that for me. The closest would be that at least he was smiling in his photo. But overwhelmingly someone I would just walk past without a second thought.

Looking back, maybe my standards have been too open. Maybe I just took anything I could get because I didn't think I could get anything else. Cling on to anyone who showed interest. Which is probably the danger with combining sleeping around with low self-esteem.

If I had to pick the one guy as the most attractive, out of all the men I've met so far, it would be T.M. Possibly this new guy (who's going to be B.C.), but I've not even met him yet so things might not go anywhere. There's been maybe 3 others who were at the same or just slightly lesser level of physical appeal.

In the back of my mind I sometimes think, "who do you think you are, saying anything about how people look? It's not like you're one to be judging other people's looks." And yeah, while that's some old negative thinking I need to get rid of, I'm definitely not going to be scouted out to appear on some magazine cover with my shirt off. But I've come to accept that I'm not going to be everyone's type. Not everyone is going to like me. But I will be someone's type. But trying to please everyone doesn't work, and more often than not I'd just end up becoming a recluse. Again.

So here's another item for the list of things to work on. Not saying yes to every offer from a guy just because you don't want to hurt the other person's feelings.

PEP: Day 3 (part 2)

I don't always think through to the big picture. It's living in the here and now, in the worst possible sense.

I'm going to eat too much of this because I like it or as comfort food, even though I know what the consequences will be and will have to work harder later to make up for it.

I'm not going to work out because I feel a bit tired or am doing something else, even though I know that it would do me a world of good in the end.

I'm not going to do this important task because I don't feel up to it right now, even though I know it will just mean more things to do in the future.

I won't take a chance socially because I don't want to deal with the momentary discomfort of things not going right, of rejection and making myself look foolish, even though there might be the chance it turns out well too and any unpleasantness is probably going to be over in no time.

I won't turn a man down because I feel like I shouldn't, even though it might not be what I want.

I won't stand up to people because I don't want to deal with the confrontation, even though problems won't be resolved if you just cower from them.

In a way I've had a comfortable life, but an unsatisfying one.

I have a half-finished screenplay on my computer. It's been half-finished for a while now. Not as long as some of the other ideas I've left gathering dust. Writing is something I've wanted to try for a long time. But despite the fact that I know I'll probably feel good if I finished it, I don't. Because I say to myself, "oh, no one will like that, what's the point?" All I see in my head is how boring it would be. I bet no one will read more than 5 pages, let alone buy the bloody thing. You wrote it. Of course they don't like it.

But I don't know that. I've never put that to the test. Like not approaching someone I find attractive, I tell myself that rejection is the obvious outcome. Might as well avoid it and just let it go. Keep my life comfortable, and unsatisfying.

So today, I opened up the file again. Wrote down all the stuff I've had in my head.

*

I might have to start talking those anti-nauseant pills at this rate. I've just eaten and it's gotten pretty bad now. Still not actually thrown up, but I feel like it.

PEP: Day 3

Missed my morning dose by over 4 hours yesterday, as well as the evening one by about one and a half hours. This is what I feared would happen if I had to be taking medication at set times of day. On better track to take them normally today, though.

The hardest part of it, if I am able to pick one after just two days, is that there isn't anyone around me I can turn to for support. The sole exception being medical staff, who aren't exactly at my beck and call. The male hospital staff member I talked to before (who in lieu of a set of initials is going to get the name Top Cat instead, which is just what his initials reminded me of) said he'd be there on Monday when I went in, but I don't really have any guarantee I will be seeing him each time I go. And then it will only be once a week.

I only came out to my dad a couple of months ago, and even though he was supportive I don't want to follow it up with this. I never told my mum but assumed she has clued on, but I'm not really that close that I would discuss something like this with her. My brother is definitely out of the question. Even though he knows about my orientation out of invasion of privacy rather than me disclosing it, he's virulently against it. The main way we get along is by my never mentioning it. I wouldn't be telling him about the random people I sleep with anyway, but even if I just went out for coffee or a drink with a guy he wouldn't take it very well. He has had over 10 years to get used to the fact, but he hasn't made any progress. Instead I get told that he would never speak to me again if I do "anything weird" or that he would get me cured if he had the money.

There is only one friend I really trust enough to tell, and they're in America. The best I could do was send an email.

For financial reasons, I'm living with my mum and brother at the moment. I was made redundant a while back (I no longer say how long exactly because it is embarrassing at this point), and am trying to get retrained for a new career since I don't want to keep doing the job I was in before. Getting my own place is beyond my means at the moment, and there isn't anyone I want to share rent with right now. So I'm stuck here.

And 'stuck' is exactly how it feels. The person I spend the most time with is my brother, seeing as he's also out of work and has resigned himself to that. His idea of earning a living is now based on luck and a succession of schemes he never works on. Never works on, despite his complete lack of a social life (due to not trying to have one) and having no real responsibilities to speak of. So most days, he's the one I'm around the most if I'm at home. And he's probably the worst I could be around right now. There is little chance of him taking this news well.

Then again, he already thinks that every time I leave the house it's because I'm off fucking around with anyone and everyone. He acts like I already have AIDS every time I'm a little bit ill. If I'm a bit of an emotional mess during all this, he is the last person I should be around. And the one I'm most likely to spend most of the time with.

The guy I never gave a name, who will be T.M. now, asked me why I didn't just tell my brother if I'm going to meet a guy for a drink. And it is exactly the same problem that got me into this situation. I avoid the confrontation by keeping silent. He says some mean-spirited or just plain ignorant thing, and I put on a blank expression and ignore it because I know he is just trying to get a reaction out of me. Or some guy starts doing something I don't feel comfortable with, and I keep my mouth shut. That assertiveness course looks better by the day.

There have been some times when I've been close to just telling the truth. Before I leave the house, I'll get 20 questions. Where am I going? Who am I going with? Who is this? Where did you meet him? What does he do? Is he married? Does he have kids? He isn't gay, is he? (He is clueless enough to think that being married or having kids actually makes a difference.) Maybe next time, I will just tell him straight out. I'm going for a drink with this guy. Yeah, he's gay. And yeah, it's one of those 'drinks', as in a date. Because you already know I'm gay, you've known for years. What T.M. said about just telling the truth has stuck with me over the months. Now I just need to act on it. If that's the only thing I got from the short time I knew T.M., that's still enough.

I started coughing yesterday, which didn't last very long, not sure if that is a side-effect of the meds or not. I am supposed to be watching out for the signs of seroconversion, although a cough wasn't one of the things the doctor mentioned. I have a vague understanding of what it is like, but should read up on it. But when I had my first slip up (topping only) I got the flu shortly after and assumed the worst. I'm probably going to be like that at the slightest ailment for a while. But I don't seem to be needing the medication for the side-effects so far. Mostly it's tiredness and headaches that's bothering me, though I do at times feel a little sick. That, and I woke up with a strange taste in my mouth but that cleared up after I something. 'Assuming the worst' again.

PEP: Day 2

One day down. If I was experiencing side-effect after just the noon (actually 1pm) dose, it was tiredness. But then I hadn't been sleeping very well this past week anyway, and only got two hours of sleep yesterday before heading to the clinic. I actually fell asleep about two hours after the first dose, which I took at the clinic. Set an alarm on my phone for 1pm and 10pm, when I'd take the evening dose. Didn't quite go to plan, as I did hear the alarm but didn't get out of bed until 11:30. I was sluggish (already dropped my phone on the floor trying to turn the alarm off), and my arms felt ridiculously heavy. That kind of feeling you can get sometimes after having an injection.

The 'starter pack' includes:
20 Kaletra tablets (2 tablets twice a day)
5 Truvada tablets (1 tablet once a day)
30 Loperamide capsules (1 to 2 capsules when necessary, anti-diarrhoeals)
28 Metoclopramide tablets (1 tablet three times a day when necessary, anti-nauseants)

First photo of this blog, and it's of my box of pills. Exciting. That's a five day course, although I'm back at the clinic on Monday morning. See if I'm holding up okay and can take the full course of treatment. I haven't taken any of the other two medicines yet (anti-diarrhoeals or nauseants), but I am starting to feel like I will be needing them. Maybe I just need to eat something. Just reading the list of potential side-effects and complications is enough to make me want to take the Metoclopramide, mind you. Definitely not something I would want to be on continually.

The cost of the full course (which I don't have to pay for, the wonder of 'socialist' health care) is approximately £600. And it's lucky that I'm not paying for it, since at this point I couldn't without asking others for money and thus having to reveal what happened.

I think I have calmed down a bit now. Got things in more of a positive ("I'm not just sure. I'm HIV-positive.") perspective. I live in a lower risk city, the chances are low either way. I don't know the likelihood of having a natural resistance with my ancestory (Irish, English and Middle-Eastern), but maybe I got lucky somewhere down the family tree? (That might be getting too optimistic, now.)

Now I was able to again, I took the opportunity to check Mr. M.B.'s profile online. "Safe sex - always" rings very hollow from where I'm standing. (But then again, I say the same thing and look where it got me.) That was the first thing I checked before looking through the other boxes. Bi, not out, would love it if you brought your mates around to fuck him. Works at the NHS (National Health Service, UK's public hospitals), apparently. It would have been awkward if I had run into him when I went to the hospital yesterday. I might have punched him in the face and lost him another tooth. But that would be taking out the anger I have towards myself on someone else. I was half dreading finally reading it to see a bunch of "hardcore bb cumslut takes any load fuck and go!!!" and realising I had walked straight into it by not checking it out before I agreed. But except for general sluttiness (can't remember now if the phrase "anything goes" appeared is his bio), there wasn't much there.

The "safe sex always" thing is actually starting to really wind me up now I'm writing about. I try to be honest with my profile and the things I say. I guess I expect others to do the same. I mean, why not just put "sometimes" or "never" or "needs discussion" or even just leaving it blank if that's actually the case? I don't know, is the idea that you say you always have safer sex, it gives the impression you don't have anything so people will think, "hey, I don't supposed barebacking will hurt that much this one time!" or something? I might not have sex with you if you make it clear you're going to only fuck bareback, but I would appreciate the candidness if that was put forward clearly and directly.

It makes me feel like a hypocrite, given that I had that in my profile and ended up both fucking him and getting fucked bareback. But as to not be too hard on myself, it's not like I intentionally say that and do the opposite. I mean it when I say it, it's just a matter of other people respecting your wishes, and you stepping up if they don't. Maybe actually saying "no, this isn't going to work," picking up your clothes and leaving. (That said, he did lock me in his house. I'm bigger than him though, I think I could have taken him if I had to fight my way out. I did kung fu for a couple of months as a kid, that must surely count for something.)

Last time I saw my GP, she gave me this leaflet detailing a bunch of free courses running in the city. Mental health things. One of them includes a course on assertiveness. If I'm not blogging about how I'm doing on this course soon, I'm going to need someone to kick my arse into gear. The two times I've slipped up sex-wise, it's because I couldn't stand up for myself. Couldn't say that I'd rather not do this. Just let things carry on. So for the sake of my future hooking up and the general necessity for being more assertive in life, I'll be taking that course as soon as I can.

On slightly better news, there were two other people who messages me that night. Not looking to hook up, but just general 'getting-to-know-you' banter. One of them in particular seems nice. Same age as me (which is a bit of a shock, they are a minority when it comes to people paying me attention), looks rather nice (all his own teeth, for one), and what little there was in his profile seems promising. Of course, I'm not looking to hook up with him now, and he doesn't indicate he wants to at all (listed only as looking for friendships and relationships). It would just be nice to make a new friend. And keep one this time, but one step at a time here.

The only trouble was when he started asking for me to talk about myself. It's a thought that fills me with dread, but one I'm going to have to try to overcome. Until I get myself on one of those courses, I've got some other pamphlets and books to be reading. Pass the time before I start on day 2's doses.

PEP: Day 1

Roughly 13 hours after last night, I was in the waiting room of the GU clinic. For some reason, I decided I'd ask them to call me by number rather than name this time. Don't really know why. I guess I just didn't want them calling out my full name in front of everyone. Turns out that was a pretty unfounded worry. Being a drop in patient, I wasn't high in the list of priorities. By the time my number was called, there was no one else in the waiting room.

This was a new doctor, or at least not one I saw the last four times I visited (for my first ever check up, then following appointments to check out the results and get shots for Hepatitis B). Things didn't go too smoothly when the first thing I said involved me mispronouncing PEP. I figured it was 'pee-ee-pee' but apparently it's just 'pep'. But stumbling over words aside, I got the point across. She showed me a little chart, conveniently right in front of her, listing the different activities and whether PEP is recommended in those situation. According to her, the city I live in isn't considered a high risk area. If I were living in Manchester or Brighton, she would be 'pouring PEP down your throat' as soon as the words were spoken. I left out the detail that I had fucked him as well. I honestly don't know why. I guess I was feeling bad enough about myself as it was, I didn't need to be admitting to anything more.

First they wanted to do a rapid test to make sure I didn't already have HIV. Which I was kind of glad about, because I wanted to get tested again anyway. My last one came back negative, but I couldn't help but worry about the chance of them missing something. But before that I had to speak with another staff member. I wasn't really in much of a mood to talk a whole lot, when the chance finally arrived. At least 85% of the time was spent with my head in my hands, and when I did speak it was barely a whisper. But again, I got the basics out. Wasn't planned, wasn't what I really wanted, but just couldn't stop it from happening. The closest I got to that arm around the shoulder I wanted was when he cleaned my finger to take the blood for the rapid test.

He tried to reassure me about the possiblility of having caught it. There's only a small chance anyway, it depends on the viral load of the guy (if he even had it), PEP helps in about 80% of cases. It was a different picture to the catastrophe I had painted in my head. Asked a bit about my mental state. Can I talk to someone about it. Go see my GP if it really gets to me. I opened up a bit more, but still kept whispering.

I waited around for about 30 minutes which the doctor dealt with someone else. I had a urine sample in a vial in my jacket pocket, the first piss of the day. Last time I was tested they kept asking if I had urinated already. So I used the vial from a chlamydia test they sent out to young people under 25, 2 years ago. I don't know if it was still any good, as far as preserving the sample was concerned, but I tired anyway. And didn't need it. I had to go all the way there and all the way home with a vial of piss in my pocket. That's as fun as it sounds. (Unless you're into that, I guess.) They wouldn't be doing these tests for another two weeks, to give any infections chance to show up.

The male staffer was back with the results of the rapid test. Negative. It was some relief to hear that. Not much of one, though. But this meant I could get PEP if I still wanted it. The doctor came back with another little chart, showing the risks of contracting HIV from various activities and from different groups. Recieving anal sex without a condom was about 1/2800 (except in London, where it's 1/1100). Topping was 1/52000 (I think 1/30000-odd in London?). Mainly 0.0X% of a chance, if not 0.00X%. But still. People defy odds all the time. The guy earlier mentioned thinking that 'you're going to be the unlucky one' and he was absolutely right. I didn't want to take my chances with it.

Before I got the tablets, I had more blood taken. Three lots, to run the standard sexual health tests and other more mundane ones. Third new staffer, a young nurse. She was pretty chipper about all this. It was a nice change from the gloom I had left myself in all night and morning. Kept asking if I was alright with the tourniquet, if I wanted to look away, to say if I started feeling faint. I've seen enough of my own blood not to be fazed by it. I actually rather enjoy watching it. Bit weird, I know. I wouldn't mind having the chance to actually test it myself, check it out under a microscope. But even just looking at it, I find interesting. Lucky that, considering I will be seeing a whole lot more of it in the weeks to come. She left in the same buoyant manner she entered in. Carrying a tray of my blood.

The doctor was back to explain the tablets to me. Turns out there is two lots of tablets, containing three drugs in total. The first is taken once a day, and the second twice. Have to be taken around the same time each day. Another, different nurse brought the tablets in. In addition to the two main ones, there is also medicine to help alleviate the side-effects. Together with the other meds I am currently taking, this means three pills at noon and four at night without the auxiliary pills. Five a day. Not feeling great about this, but it's only for a month.

I only have five days' worth now. I go back on Monday to see how I'm coping with them, and if I'm alright I'll get the full month's worth. Then I will have to go back each week so they can test my kidney and liver functions, and again three months after I complete the course for a final HIV test. Schedule looking a lot busier now.

So here's day one, after the first noon dose about two hours ago. I'm not sure if this tiredness is these pills kicking in, or if it's just because I only slept for about two hours last night.

Failure As A Human Being

I have thoroughly disappointed myself tonight. "Walk of shame" never seemed so fitting as it does now. The only upside was that the streets were empty enough past midnight for me to mutter to myself all the way home.

After about 4 months of not having sex with anyone, I did it tonight. Some guy messages me, lived not far away (although I misjudged the distance by a long short, if I had realised I might have said no), and actually showed a bit of interest in me without it fizzling out. Fancy that.

We'll call the guy M.B., even though I don't think we'll be seeing much more of him. The picture he sent didn't look too bad. There are people who look better than their pictures in real life, and those who look worse. M.B. was the latter. There was some disappointment when he opened the door. I think he was even missing some front teeth, which wasn't highlighted in the one picture he sent. But who's about to put out a picture like that when you're looking to get laid? And I try not to be completely shallow, so I let it slide. Or rather at this point, I don't think I could have backed out. Keep this point about not being able to back out in mind, because that's pretty much the theme of this story.

This definitely wasn't the most sociable of hook ups. We didn't even exchange names until I was walking to his place (he also asked me my username, so I guess I wasn't that special to grab his interest). I had actually not even read his profile before agreeing. Free user account, so I only have a very limited number of profiles I can view before it just asks me to upgrade until the next day when the limit resets; I reached that limit randomly clicking on profiles whose owners I found hot, like you do. My bank balance is currently at minus £90, so I really wasn't up to resubscribing just for this.

The conversation (although with its lack of substance it barely warrants that title) was light on any details about what he had in mind for the night. The only clue was that he has the word 'bottom' in his username. And sure enough, that's what happened. I don't really feel like giving a play-by-play of how things went down, so I will just be skipping ahead.

I had him on his back, knees on chest and my cock by his arse. When he just took the tip of my cock and put it inside him. No condom, no lube, nothing. There had been no discussion about if I wanted to do that, there's nothing in my profile that indicates I'm looking to bareback strangers. It took me a couple of seconds to process what was happening. Maybe he's just going to put the tip in then pull it out, the rest of the time using a condom? Yeah, that didn't happen.

So there I was, inside this man whose very existence was unknown to me not an hour earlier. I know nothing about him, there's the chance he didn't even give me his real name. And I couldn't find the courage inside myself to say stop. This isn't something I'm completely comfortable doing. And in the end, I just went with it. Asked if he had any lube and just carried on. It's kind of like being on a diet, and you slip up. You have that one bit of junk food and think, "oh well, I might as well make the most of this" then start with the desserts and drinks to go with it. I figured if I went this far, I might as well see what all the fuss is about.

And yeah, it's not bad. I would need to do a proper test to compare with a condom to without, but still. Although my foreskin plays up sometimes and not using a condom it was a lot more sore than with one. Made sure to look at myself as I entered him, just to let it sink in. And all I really felt looking down at my dick going bare inside this guy I wasn't even all that into was disappointment. I had made up my mind before. I'd leave barebacking, if I did it, to someone more meaningful than some random bit of strange. And yet there I was. My resolve didn't account for much when it really mattered. I looked at the back of his head, at the bald patch his picture didn't show, and started rearranging my plans for the next day. It's time to move that much-delayed visit to the sexual health clinic forward. Tomorrow morning while the drop in clinic is open. I was curious about PEP before, I guess I'm going to be doing some hands-on experimenting. But I couldn't truly enjoy what I was doing, because I had let myself down. If there are some horrible repercussions from this, I am to blame. And given how it carried on, there's the chance there could be.

I couldn't cum. Too tired to really be fucking anyone, and these meds I take probably don't help. So after lying down for a while, he gets up for a cigarette. Comes back and starts kissing the back of my neck. Then my shoulders. Then his hands are on my arse and he's rubbing his cock against it. Next thing I know he's got more lube and is rubbing it in. I might be many things, but I am not completely oblivious. It's obvious where this is going. In my heart of hearts, I didn't want it. I had already disappointed myself once, but at least it was the less riskier way of doing so. Now this guy--utter stranger, didn't even offer me a cup of tea when I arrived--is about to fuck me. Sans condom, of course. And again, there I was. I didn't want this. I didn't want some stranger coming inside me, or even the risk of it. But all I did was lay there, face down. Not a word of protest. No standing up for myself. Let's just get it over with. I know I'm not going to be able to stop it. It has been well over a year since anyone fucked me, so I honestly can't compare how it felt.

He fucked me for a lot less than I did him. And then he stopped. Got off the bed, left the room, I heard running water as I kept my face embedded in the bedding. If he had come, he wasn't one of those guys who makes a noise. Didn't say anything about it, no "I'm gonna cum" or anything. His thrusting changed just before he stopped. But I didn't feel the kind of things people say they can feel when a guy nuts inside them. No throbbing of his cock, and definitely no ejaculation. When he returned, I took his getting dressed again as meaning he'd had his fill and it was time to leave. While he was gone I was looking at all the papers on his walls. Trying to find something out about the man who'd just done this to me. The man I let myself down for. He wasn't worth it at all.

Not knowing if he did in fact come inside me, I don't know if what I could feel after getting dressed was what it's like having someone's spunk still inside you, or if that was just lube. Either way, I don't care for the sensation. No lustful accounts how hot the feeling of it dripping down your legs is from this guy. It just felt uncomfortable. And acted as a reminder, as if I needed one. I tried checking my underwear, but I can't tell. It would probably be diluted with lube if it was there. I looked at myself in his bathroom mirror before I left, and asked myself what I was playing at. What was I thinking. (On a nicer note, I thought I looked rather handsome if I say so myself. So there's some improvement. Actually, I was pretty comfortable being naked today. Maybe letting myself believe I am handsome if others say so is paying off. Great timing there though, genius.)

The relief to be out of his front door was short-lived. After that, I just felt pathetic. Can I not even managed to live by the rules I set myself? It's not like it's really something hard to follow. I had condoms in my jacket. I was prepared. But I was weak. Too much of a coward to tell this man what he was doing wasn't what I wanted. Too spineless to stand up for myself. During my walk home I went through it all in my head again. And, too little too late, said out loud what I was feeling. What I should have said. How much I'd disappointed myself. I got things ready for tomorrow. Set my alarm for 7:30am so I can be up and at the hospital when the doors open at the clinic. Plan out what I need to tell them. Number of people I've slept with since my last visit (4: C.R., M.N., T.S. kind-of, and now M.B.), what I did with each. What I did tonight. If I can get PEP. If I can speak to someone. I tried to plan out what I was going to say. And started to wonder if I'm just making excuses for my behaviour.

Truth be told, I want the person I speak with to put their arm around me. All through the night, that is what I wanted the most. A bit of affection after a series of missed opportunities. Even if for a brief time, feeling like someone cares enough to show me a bit of affection. The moments I actually enjoyed tonight weren't any of the sex acts. It was just being there with someone's arm around me. At one point, he stroked my hair a bit. That did more for me than fucking him did. Christ. I think I need to go to one of those cuddle parties a lot more than I need to be getting laid.

I need to learn something from this. I try to learn something from every experience, but this one needs some good to come from it. I need to stand up for what I believe in, for the things that I have chosen. I need to do what's right for me, not what's right for someone else or what other people are doing. In very area of life, but especially where there are risks like this.

At least I will probably have something to write about, if I managed to get PEP. A whole month of me talking about the side effects of these pills. Aren't you lucky?