In The End, I Love Me

"Can I have my spare keys back, please?", it was my gaybor.

I read his message and I felt cold. Why was he asking for his keys back? It only meant one thing. I had pissed him off and it was really over. 

"I'd also like to return your stuff…", he continued.

For a few minutes, I kept quiet. I did not know what to say. Do I tell him that I'll just mail him his keys even if he only lived a block away? Do I ask him to drop my stuff off at my apartment with my name on it? Or do I meet him up probably for the last time and risk sliding back to where I was just a few days ago?

"Yes. Thanks. Maybe tonight.", I finally typed back.

I decided to take the grown up way out. One final meet up. To at least see him. To at least have the chance to explain myself. To say goodbye.

***

It was last night when I finally decided to end my connection with the gaybor. It has been at least eight months since we first met. Our story, or at least some of it, I had written on this site. The long and short of it was - I probably fell in love. Even without intending to, as is always the case. And I fell hard. So hard that I ugly cried in McDonalds in front of friends while holding a bag of chicken nuggets and half-eaten fillet-o-fish. It was THAT bad.

The gaybor wanted sex last night and for the first time, I said no. He had just wrapped up a weekend with another Asian "friend" from New York. A few hours after that guy (whom I fondly referred to as "Deformed Asian") left his house, he sent me a message. He wanted to have sex. With me. His gaybor. Under regular circumstances, I would have been flattered. Fuck, I am sure that I am way better in bed than that Deformed Asian… But, it was the gaybor. And I, I still cared.

And because I cared, I was disgusted by the mere idea of seeing him that night - much more having his dick, which was probably up some deformed Asian's ass in my mouth. I am no big fan of ass to mouth play in the first place! But beyond disgust, I felt sorry for myself. And it made me sad. It made me want to change things. As I looked at myself in front of the wall of mirrors by my bed (where we have performed and have checked ourselves out doing many a great sex positions, by the way), I realized one thing. I love myself more.

"Sorry. I think it's best that I don't see you for a while. This arrangement doesn't work for me anymore."

As soon as I sent the message, I felt better about myself. I had finally done it. I had finally stood up for myself.

 "Better late than later…", I mumbled. 

Based on his reaction, he was caught by surprise. But, knowing him the way that I do, I knew he was upset. He may never show it completely, but I knew he was.

***

I stood outside my apartment, waiting. He walked over to my place in the middle of a heavy downpour to return my stuff. He meant business. He wore his usual gray tank and shorts, with him, an oversized black umbrella. As soon as I saw him turn the corner, part of me wanted to take back everything I said. Ugh. 

I noticed he avoided any eye contact. I, on the other hand, did not. At the back of my mind, I knew that I wanted to see him so badly. I wanted him to change my mind. But he didn't. Instead, he pulled out a package from his pocket and handed it over.

"I'm gonna go before this rain gets any harder", he mumbled without looking at me directly.

I handed him his keys which he put back in pocket. At that moment, I caught a glimpse of his eyes. I knew that I had gotten through to him. He was upset. As I watched him walk away, I felt a tiny pinch in my heart. I watched him walk away probably for the last time. It was then when I realized that in the process of loving myself, I ended up hurting the guy I must have really loved.

Hi, I'm Boring. Will You Date Me?

"Hi, I'm Tristan and I'm boring."

I am so tempted to say that whenever I meet someone for the first time. But, I know that if I do, all chances of getting past the first date goes out the window. So, I pretend to be interesting. I tell them stories of my move to the US - like how different things were and how it's more fun to be gay in DC. It usually works for the first thirty minutes. Then I go on telling the tales of my glorious life in Manila - like how I had an ultra fab social life, that I was almost always the life of any party, that I had the city at my beck and call. That covers the next hour and then it goes downhill... If I'm lucky, both of us would be drunk enough to call it a night after we agree on a second date.

The second date is much trickier. The conversations are usually follow ups to stories told on the first. At this point, the other guy is expecting to hear about who I am now. I have noticed how people find it interesting, actually odd, that I don't know how to drive, swim or ride a bike. Then it ends there. It was after several first dates with several guys that I came to a conclusion that I now live a boring life. My life is as plain as a beige wall.

I don't play sports. I don't like talking about politics. I like showbiz news and trashy TV. I don't have a hobby or speak another language that is relevant to global survival. I haven't been to Europe, studied abroad, or traveled the world. Nobody seems to be interested in the fact that I have been around Asia and  the Philippines. I am not interested in art, theater, indie films, museums and marathons. I don't like beer and can not tell the difference between stupid wines. I have no patience to engage in small talks. Oh and yes, I don't like reading books. I like magazines, the trashy ones. Oh and I like porn - and jerking off to porn. But, that's never appropriate dinner conversation.

I have nine-hour work days, two-hour gym days, and another few extra hours for TV. I do my laundry weekends. I derive happiness from finding my favorite greek yogurt on sale at the local supermarket. I relieve stress by cooking entrees, which I will be eating for breakfast, sometimes lunch, and dinner for the  entire week. The highlight of my days would be getting my soy latte from Starbucks and seeing a cupcake in the dessert section at the office cafeteria. My phone barely rings. I have sex at least once a week - with someone, anyone.

So, you see, I'm in a bit of a mess and I'm fucking boring.

Friends with Benefits My Ass

It took us one month but we finally did it. Again.

The neighbor and I have shared a decent amount of time in each other's lives - give or take half a year. And yes, we have had our ups and I have had my downs. It started with a harmless "appointment" that blossomed into regular breakfast sex and eventually turned into what my friends call "us dating". But, in the last month, it was made clear that we were not headed towards that general direction. We were, if he would have his way, "friends" and "neighbors" - his classier way of calling us forever "fuck buddies".

And this got me thinking. In the last ten years of me having sexual relations with guys, I have successfully managed to compartmentalize my boys into one of three major categories: "boys I love", "boys I am friends with", and "boys who fuck me". It's much easier that way. And, for the first time, some guy, i.e. my neighbor wants to blur the lines between my boxes. It has been quite confusing. Why blur the lines?

As I sucked his dick once again after a month of not doing so, I felt a bit sad. It did not feel right. It was not special anymore. I was still sucking the same dick. I was still licking the same body (which is really not too shabby by the way) but it was not the same. It felt like I was just doing some random guy I had just met on Grindr. At that moment, it felt like he was just a dick. A human dildo. It was cathartic.

After the deed, I found myself in bed. I was laying there alone. He had already gone by the time I started over thinking things. Again. Was I ever gonna be happy with a human dildo? Was I ever gonna be happy with another friend? Will it ever be possible for me to be friends with someone I fuck? So many questions during the prime of my life. I think it's such a waste.

So I figured, I'd go back to my boxes. I conveniently stuck my neighbor in the "boys I fuck" box. He can call it what he wants - friends with benefits, fuck buddies, neighbors - I am slowly not giving a damn. As for me, I will, for a very long time, think of him fondly as "someone that, at some point, I saw myself loving, but from hereinafter, will just be my human dildo who thinks I am his friend." Now if that is not an appropriate label, then I don't know what is.

Growing Pains

The sun was up. It was one of those days, typical of spring - flowers were abloom; tulips in different shades of the rainbow; fresh leaves of trees and shrubs; it was bright and sunny.

But, I was in a very dark place. My heart, cold. I was anxious. My walls, shattered.

"My walls were down... it has been down for several months now...", I explained to the guy across from me over breakfast.

It was my neighbor and we were having breakfast. We have never talked about what had been said a few weeks ago - not even when we met up for brunch a couple of weeks back; not over texts - until now. We needed to talk about it. I wanted us to talk about it.

"And now I need to rebuild it...", I continued.

I knew he was staring at me - a guy pouring his heart out. I tried to be calm and less emotional. I tried to explain myself with as much restraint as I could possibly muster at that point. I tried my best not to take it personally. Even if it was personal. Even after he had told me that I can never be more than a friend.

"I'm sorry you had to sit through this...", I apologized.

I could tell that he could see sadness in my eyes. I looked away. I can fake the way I talk. I can choose my words. But, my eyes betray me in times like this.

"We would not be having this conversation if I did not want you around..."

It was true. I wanted him around. Maybe as a friend. Maybe with benefits. Maybe someone I could borrow a cup of sugar from. We were neighbors anyway.

"If you were a younger guy, I would have just called you an asshole and then moved on..."

I smiled. And I meant it. I knew I did. He was older - more mature than I was. He knew what to say. Beside him, I sometimes feel foolish. And he was good to me. He was not an asshole; he was just not that into me.

"I hope this talk was helpful for you...", he finally said.

I nodded. It was indeed a reflief to finally tell him what I really thought of the whole thing. It may have taken me a few weeks to sort things out by myself but I finally did. I asked him the things I could have never asked anybody else. I showed him another side of me - the one he probably did not expect to see.

"Thank you - things will only get better after this...", I replied.

It was then when I realized, I may have finally grown up.

Take Me For A Ride

"Hey..."

It was Grindr guy - someone I have been with once not too long ago. I still remember how it was. He came over to my place one rainy night. I was in need of someone - I felt alone. He said he liked Asians. He especially liked what he had seen online. He asked if he could come over. I gladly said yes. I needed him that night - even for just a few hours. He seemed like a nice guy anyway.

"Hi, what's up?", I asked.

I remembered he arrived at my place in a few minutes. I asked him to come in. He smiled at me and told me how good looking I was. He was clearly crazy. He kissed me on the lips. I could taste a trace of smoke in his breath. It turned me on. He started undressing me - one piece of clothing after another. I was stripped down to my underwear. He started undressing himself too. He asked me to lay in bed. "I'll give you a massage…". I could not have been any happier.

"I was just wondering if you wanna hang out...", he asked.

I still recall how warm his hands were. With every single touch, I felt more and more relaxed. He laid on top of me. I could feel his member slowly getting hard. It was quite average for a white guy. His arms were muscular. His scruff, rubbing against the back of my neck, felt good. I was in the zone. I felt his hands feel my behind, slowly massaging it. Every now and then, it would hit the spot. He glided down, kissing my back all the way to that same spot. I felt his tongue making his way to my crack. It was wet and warm. I let out a subtle moan. He stuck it in.

"I just woke up.", I replied.

I remember staring at him at one point. He had really kind eyes. It made me feel comfortable. He seemed very gentle. He asked me to turn around. I felt his tongue when he started playing with my balls - licking it - then sucking on my cock. My erection got harder. I put up a show. Before me was a muscle guy - scruff and all - sucking me. It was a weird power structure. It turned me on. I reached for his member. It was hard. He was enjoying what was going on. I wondered if he'd ever top me. I wanted him to. I wanted him in me.

"Have you ever ridden a sling?"

I remember reaching for a condom. "Put this on", I told him. He gladly obliged. He asked me turn around. He started lubing me up - my ass up in the air. He once again licked my balls - then he started rubbing the head of his cock along my crack. "Please be gentle...", I asked him. I took a deep breath - waiting for what was about to come. "I will, don't worry.", he whispered. Inch by inch, he slowly made his way in me. I held on to the bed. "You okay?", he asked. He was good.

"No. Do you have one?", I asked.

I remember that it was a gentle ride - the gentlest of late. I only felt him push a bit harder as he was about to cum. I remember finishing almost at the same time. We laid in bed for a while. I was exhausted and so was he. I felt him plant a kiss on my forehead - his hands still feeling my body. His touch felt good - and for a brief moment, I did not feel alone.

"I'm sure you will love it.", he replied.

Yes, I can still recall our first time together - how could I ever forget? He was the gentlest of men. He treated me well and made sure I enjoyed every single bit of what we were up to. He had the softest touch and warmest hands. Little did I know that he had a different side to him. He had his inner alpha and I, as I would later find out, liked that one better.

"Sure, I'll ride your sling."

to be continued…