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.
Wednesday, 28 November 2012
Sunday, 11 November 2012
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.
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.
Friday, 9 November 2012
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.)
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.)
Tuesday, 6 November 2012
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.
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.
Friday, 19 October 2012
"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).
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).
Wednesday, 10 October 2012
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.
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.
Saturday, 7 July 2012
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.
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.
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