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.