I hate bad days...

And today was one of them. Or at least what I'd classify as a bad day.

It started at 7:11 when my clock rang and woke me from a sleep I had just finally fallen into. I don't usually have trouble sleeping, but some days I just can't stay asleep after 5, leaving me rolling around until I finally fall back to sleep. Normally this doesn't matter, because I don't have to get up at 7 usually...but today I did. I showered half asleep, tried to remember to get dressed properly, and threw myself out the door. But the entire ritual sucked. I just felt sleepy, and waking up alone sucked majorly. I never thought I'd become like this, all through High School and 1st Year I never thought I needed anyone, nor would I get used to anyone being there. This morning it was hard to take, after an evening of being alone, and a horribly grey morning to greet me.

I sat through a 2 hour lecture that really never grabbed my attention, but was looking forward to the end, when Rez Guy would hopefully walk by me and say hi. He did...walked right out the door talking with some girl...and didn't even notice I was there. Me being shy, and him not being alone, I didn't want to run up to him and have a laugh about our situation. So he walked by. I was semi-concerned about how I looked this morning, because I was hoping to see him and give him a good impression of me again, since we haven't met in probably 9 months.

Afterwards, I had lunch with a friend and waited for our class to start. That was a nice point of the day. The next class was only an hour, and was actually interesting. My prof even came over and talked to me for a few minutes (conversationally, not in a bad way)...I felt all special, since I got to sit with a group of friends and be social. Immediately afterwards I had a group project to start working on, which I did...

The first bad thing was that the entire group couldn't meet at the same time. So I started working with 2 other people, then one of them left, then the other went to get supplies...while she was gone, her phone rang, and she got a voicemail. So when we're all back together, she pulls up the voicemail on speakerphone so we can hear our 4th member's message.

"Blah blah blah...meet this address...oh and I don't think we should let Steve do any of the talking because..." She snapped the phone closed, exhaling slowly.

My 2 other groupies looked shocked, so I must have looked pretty pissed. They reassured me that nothing I've done has been bad/wrong, and that the 4th member is being a bitch. But I insisted on hearing the message. Essentially, 4th member felt that I didn't do a good job the last time we were speaking with someone, and decided that she should do the talking from now on, which isn't her job at all.

I know you need thick skin, and I always want to know the truth about what people say about me, but I have to admit I was really hurt. When I criticize people, I always word it so they aren't exactly implicated as being bad at their job, just needing some help or direction. I guess I'm just soft...but it threw me, as we made our way to an undesclosed office building for our meeting, I lost a lot of confidence in what I was about to do.

I'm a natural speaker (apparently). I don't need speeches written down, or elaborate storyboards to wrap my head around something. Give me the facts, and I'll fill in the rest. In High School it was an undiscovered talent, since I never did any public speaking outside the classroom. But in Grade 12, I was asked to give the goodbye message from my grade to the Music Program at our annual spring concert (I'm a band nerd, now the world knows!).

I stood up, and talked. And people all looked and were amazed that timid Steve, who's super-smart but not really all that outgoing, was able to speak so professionally, but still keep it from the heart.

A month later, I was doing it again, this time at graduation. I was nominated for Valedictorian, had no chance of winning, but was the 'Music' representative, with the other nominees sourced from Sports and Student Council. As luck would have it, the elected Valedictorian wasn't in the country at our ceremony, so the nominees were asked to speak about their experiences at school.

I was the second last, if I remember, and wasn't overly scared. The music concert was one thing, they were my friends, but this was the entire grade. I talked about how everyone found their niche at school, and how people of all different interests could still put it aside and live together. It wasn't a ground-shaking speech, but (naturally) it was the best of the four. I got so many compliments that night, and the following week, it was actually a real boost for my self-esteem. Apparently some parent leaned over to my Dad at the end of the speech, and said, "There's the next Prime Minister..." And this guy isn't a loser, he's influential in our Healthcare System.

Anyway...back to today. I was hurt and the most unsure about my abilities that I've been since coming to school. And I shouldn't have been, because the girl is a twit and none of us liked working with her. But why did I let myself get so down!?

Then I texted Brian, since I'm missing him (you know it's been over 24 hours!...its around 36 right now), but I forgot he had to work tonight. So I finally got to come home, only after grabbing comfort food from Harvey's, and feel shitty. I hope Lisa's around tonight because we always hang out with her roomies Tuesday nights...but I haven't talked to her yet, and she's super-stressed about school, and no doubt will need to work tonight.

So I find myself now wanting company to take my mind off of this not so spectacular day. I only have to survive two more (much more intense) days, and I'm off to Ottawa Thursday night. It's almost worse that I've actually started being happy by seeing someone, because now it makes the nights alone even more boring. The lonliness is so much more potent now that I've had a taste of being with someone.

Update on Rez Guy...

So tonight I bit then inevitable bullet and talked to Rez Guy.

I'd wanted to all last week, but he wasn't online since he left town for reading week. And since I haven't been around either, I decided to jump online tonight and see if he was there. Sure enough, he was, but set to away, so I didn't message him.

A minute later, he messaged me, something along the lines of "finally!"

We chatted for a few mintues about our reading weeks, then he asked what school I go to.

"I've gotta come clean with you...fate/circumstance is a funny thing. We actually know each other...well, not really friends, but we do know each other. I didn't want to say anything before, because I was waiting till I talked to you on msn."

A minute went by, with me holding my breath.

"Awesome i'm a huge fan of the fate connections. So please enlighten me."

"The second thing is that I'm not exactly out, I am to some but not fully yet, so I'd have to ask for your confidence."

"Okay. No problem most of my friends aren't out either."

It degenerated to 'how do I know you', with me telling him school, residence, residence building, floor...then he listed off guys.

"omg you're Steve! okay I can't believe this because I totally just never thought that n e one else on our floor was haha."

I said how I didn't exactly broadcast it last year, and how we never really spent any time together, how would he know? But he was really blown away by the fact there was another gay/bi guy on our floor last year. It was a little odd, since I was expecting to be embraced a little better than that...but I guess it was a bit of a shock.

Then I complimented him on how I had a slight crush last year, and still found him cute. He laughed and said thanks. I asked him what he exactly messaged me for in the first place, sex or something else.

"Cuz I don't know any gay people in the city except for the few I've slept with. Well I'm not usually one to just hook up with randoms but seeing as i already know u...well it seems as if we're both on the same level on that one haha."

And all of a sudden, he says he's going to bed. He's got class tomorrow...and I realized he has the same class I do. So we talked for a few minutes, and then he said goodnight.

Well, it went almost as well as I could have hoped. He's fine with the not being out thing, he seems interested in maybe fooling around...but then he just slammed on the brakes. And again, me being me, I don't know what to do. We're pretty different people, he's super-outgoing, and I don't know what I exactly want to do with him. I'd be fufilling a fantasy if I actually got him in bed, which would be amazing, but he admitted he was looking to make friends with gay guys. But he also was encouraging on the bed front...

I guess I want it all (as usual). I really do want to sleep with him, and maybe start a friendship with him. But I just don't know if we're compatible people...and he wasn't exactly forthcoming about what he wants. So I guess tomorrow I'll see if I can get him to breakfast with me after class, or coffee...and if that doesn't work, maybe dinner next week. He did say he'd be interested in getting to know me too, now that 'fate has interveined' and shoved us together. But as I say, he wasn't clear about how he'd like to proceed.

Another weekend is behind me...

Life goes in crazy bursts. For days I was busy, running around Toronto with friends, shopping, watching movies, doing touristy stuff…and for the past few days I’ve been doing nothing.

Having gone home to small-town-bum-fuck-nowhere for the last few days of reading week, I didn’t make any big plans. I didn’t want to, really, because I needed to have some rest and relaxation, and maybe do some homework considering I’m on a study break. And that’s been the case, not a lot has gone on. My grandparents came to visit yesterday, so we did the whole ‘family day’ thing, which I always love, except when they tell the same stories they told you last time…

I’m also getting a little stressed about school. This semester has been bizarre, I have less class than last semester, due to the fact I’m taking only 'required courses' except for one elective. But the required courses aren’t like normal ones, I don’t have to go to lectures, then write an essay, then do an exam. I have to hand in assignments on a much more regular basis, and do lots of different types of research, and unfortunately, group assignments.

I don’t even know why I’m worrying about school. I’m smart and good at it. But I'm an inherent worrier, and as much as I try to adopt the attitude of the brash University student, who says "Fuck you work!" I never am able to. I don't worry about work until I procrastonate (another University talent) to the point where I start to feel a huge amount of pressure. Even though I know I'll be able to pull everything off, and do well at it, and make excellent points, I still get worried for some reason. Ugh, stupid personality!

But tonight I'm putting it all again behind me. I'm back in Toronto, Brian is back, and we've made plans to hang out. We both miss each other, with him actually verbalizing "I miss you a lot and can't wait to see you" and me asking him what he's doing tonight. Honestly, I'm getting scared. I don't know why, because this is exactly what I fucking want. Someone who I miss, who misses me, and who I can't wait to see again. But dammit, I don't want to move things too quickly, to make things between us too comfortable, because I don't want to end up hurting him (or being hurt myself) if I decide that there's someone else I'm more interested in.

Maybe I'll broach the issue of what exactly we are. I say we're dating, becuase that's what it is really, we haven't done any of the 'couply stuff', and it hasn't remotely been long enough for us to develop any feelings for each other. I think. But then I don't really know about all this...

See, in High School I never really did the dating thing. Not by choice, of course, but because I was never interested in anyone, or there was nobody interested in me. So I went through so many years lonely. Then there was Laura, whose relationhip I already described. There was someone else this summer, but we weren't 'dating' per se, we just spent almost every weekend together and often spent the night with each other.

So I don't know how responisble, mature adults date. Is there a guideline? Are you supposed to go out/spend time with X, then repeat with Y and Z, then 'choose' which one you want to be your boyfriend? Am I allowed to be all Highschool-esque with Brian, and still see other people?

The bottom line is, since Brian isn't playing the field, I don't want to be a bastard and hurt him because I don't know what I'm doing.

Harder, harder...

So how much is too much sex?

I’d gotten sexual histories from some of the guys I’ve talked to online, but some of the guys that I’d talked to were just starting to explore their sexualities. Some had never done anything, others had experiences with ‘friends from high school’, others still had gotten blow jobs or topped a few guys. But until recently, I’d never met anyone who was out and fully active.

If you remember my Valentines Night, I went over to Brian’s place and happened to meet his roommate, Ryan. Ryan is cute, tall, and very scene. He also has a very active sex life, something that Brian didn’t take long in explaining to me, and how they’re so very different in that respect.

In almost everything else, Brian and Ryan are alike. I could tell by the way he talked about him that they generally were very close, and it’s sweet. But then he talked about their ‘roommate drama’…something that I was very interested to hear about.

As it stands, Ryan is very horny all the time (aren’t we all though?). Where some do nothing about it, and others masturbate, Ryan takes a more active approach. On average, he invites at least one ‘friend’ over each night of the week…and he’s usually just met this ‘friend’ an hour before online.

Now, I’m a fan of hookups. Hell, if it weren’t for the internet, I’d still be a basket-case under-sexed chronic masturbator (surprisingly enough, I still jerk off plenty). But this takes hookups to a new level.

Brian told me the story about how one night, one guy was buzzing up from their lobby just as the second guest of the evening was stepping out their front door. Ryan, disheveled from the sex he’d just had, dashed into the bathroom to shower while the second guy was getting let into the building.

At first, I was in awe. ‘This is so cool!’ I thought to myself. This guy is a student in an intense program, maintains a social life, and has a never-ending supply of hot guys coming to have sex with him. Isn’t that everyone’s dream!?

But as the stories kept coming, I became more and more disturbed by the fact that he’s a sexual maniac. Not that his sex life is ultra-kinky or employs dangerous techniques, but he seems to be really sex obsessed. As Brian said, “It’s like his hobby. He comes home from work, goes online, and finds guys to sleep with. Then he does his homework.”

Even still, when I think about him, I get turned on by the idea of having that much sex. He makes life look pretty glamorous. But behind the sexy stories are disturbing ones too.

One day the two of them packed off and went to the clinic to get tested. Brian apparently made the nurse a little amused with the fact that his sexual history is pretty tame. He got his tests done, everything was clear, and was back in the waiting room.

Ryan, on the other hand, was not as clean. He came out smirking, holding bottles of pills and shaking his head from a lecture about sexual safety he’d just received. He hadn’t tested Positive, but had contracted a few common-place STD’s. And apparently this wasn’t the first time.

“But doesn’t it bother him? I mean, he’s a smart guy, he should know a little better about safety,” I’d said, feeling the amazement quickly deflate.

“Oh, you’d think. But he just doesn’t care.”

So where does it all stand with this sex stuff? Thinking about it, I drew a few conclusions.

Hooking up online is still hooking up, no matter how few times you do it. It carries some dangers, the most obvious being the risk of becoming infected with disease. There are of course preventative measures that you should take, and generally you shouldn’t sleep with someone who gives you the creeps or whose integrity you question.

But at the same time, how do you justify the volume of these hookups? On one hand, if you hook up once in a while, isn’t it the same as hooking up every night? You’re still putting yourself on the line, even if it’s a number of times less than every day. On the other, you can justify the fact that you’re picking up, because you really just want to have sex.

Another way of looking at it is in comparison to trying to get picked up at a bar. Each weeknight, guys of all ages head out to local bars. Is it just to dance? For some, yes, it’s about going out with friends, having a good time and getting a little drunk. But for many others, it’s about scouting for Mr.Right-Now.

That too caries the same risks as meeting someone online. But why is it more socially acceptable to ‘go home with someone’ from a club than it is to get picked up online?

And what are we saying overall? That if we didn’t have to worry at all about disease or HIV, we would and could have sex with someone new every day?

Why do we care about frequency so much, and so many partners? The answer is clear, because people like to have sex. But why did I become so fascinated with Ryan’s active sex life, then a little repulsed by it? How many times a week/month/year should you have sex with someone new?

In trying to figure out my sexual identity, I’ve thought a lot about the random sex thing. It’s just something that’s normal for the gay community, and something that I don’t really mind partaking in. Obviously I have my standards; I’m not sleeping with the first person to message me just because I want sex. I look for guys who I think are hot, and always ask about their health. Of course, people can lie, but so far the guy’s I’ve met are pretty standup guys.

I don’t want to hook up with someone new every day, because it takes too much time, energy and often is complicated because I can’t host. Also, it feels excessive.

But why do I want to in the first place? I had to in January because I needed to finally experience sex with a guy. Now is it that I just want to keep on having sex? And why, when I now have Brian to spend a night with, do I still find myself checking out other guys online? Does part of finding out my identity include getting a few guys ‘under my belt’?

There is, after all, the timid small-town side of my personality. I’m from a place where sex isn’t discussed except amongst teenagers, and the idea is you sleep with people who you’re in love with. But there exists the urban side too, that wants to have lots of sex with hot guys, have three-ways or group sex and generally enjoy myself in my sexual prime.

Jamie told me long ago that it’s different for each individual. Some want monogamy with a person they really care for. Others sleep with anyone at any time. There are guys who have the occasional fling, but keep them few and far between. Is it just a media stereotype, perpetuated by the scene, that guys are always hooking up with each other, and that it is in fact encouraged?

In truth, I don’t know where to go from here. But I’d love to know what your sexual modus operendi is. Please, leave an anonymous comment (yes, they are truly anonymous) and let me know what the ‘average guy’ does.

Reading week (part 2)...

Kyle stepped into the bathroom, and I put some porn on my computer. I mean, it wasn’t like we were having intimate, personal sex together, we were going to jack off with our new toys, and it’d be nice to have some good steamy sex going on in front of us. Besides, with the sex from the night before, I wasn’t exactly eager to have a repeat performance.

With both of us lubed up and ready to go, I grabbed my stimulator and slid it into my ass. It’s not a big thing, so I had no trouble getting it in, and immediately it felt good. It rubbed my prostate, releasing that great feeling, and quickening my pulse. I reached for the control, and clicked it on…

The vibrator came to life, sending waves into my ass, and causing me to let out some pretty good moans. Kyle looked at me and started to laugh, and I shot him a pissed off glance (or as best as I could with my eyes rolling up in my skull). He had noooo idea how good this was. Another click, and I was on #2, massaging my cock and the wand in my ass.

Somewhere along the line Kyle had started putting his butt plug in. I asked if he’d had anything in there before, and got the standard reply of ‘a finger or two’. I made sure he had enough lube, and told him to relax and let his muscles ease open. He did, and after a few minutes he had most of it in. I tried explaining how it might hurt the inner ring of the anus when he passed it over the last big part of the plug, and to just slide it out or let it sit when he felt tingling or pain. He was really good about it, and finally popped the whole thing in, and began to jerk off.

Meanwhile, I had moved up to #3, and was feeling pretty fine. The vibrations were strong but not intense, and it felt great to slide the wand ever so slightly across the inner part of my ass. Finally, I went to #4, and felt my balls start to well. Kyle put a hand on my abs, and laughed.

“Dude, you can feel that thing inside you!” he said, which I’m sure was fascinating to him, but very irrelevant to me at that moment.

I came hard, but not with as much volume as I’d predicted. I sat a moment longer, slowing the vibrator down a click at a time, until it was finally off. We cleaned ourselves up, I went to give the toys a wash in my sink, and we were off to Lisa’s for dinner.

Wednesday was more touristy things, another movie, this time Dr.No, playing at the Bloor Cinema. I love the Bloor, it plays all sorts of classics, and it’s so much fun to see old movies on actual film through an actual projector. True, the print was a bit faded, and sometimes scratched to all hell, but it’s still great. Unfortuantely the immature audience that was attracted to a James Bond movie couldn’t stop laughing whenever either a trademark line was uttered or scratches danced across Sean Connery’s torso.


While walking around later, we crossed paths again with the Stag Shop (though this time not the Church St. location), and I jokingly told Lisa to go in and buy a vibrator.

“Well, I’d get one, if I was having sex. But I’m not, so I don’t want to buy one yet.”

So I suggested she get a clitoral vibrator and buzz the hell out of herself without insertion. She laughed at first, but turned and went into the store. We browsed for a while, finally giving up and heading out the door again. But when we hit the street, she said that maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea that she bought one after all…which was the reason we’d gone in the first place, but she obviously hadn’t totally grasped that part.

That evening I had made plans away from my guest, since he and Lisa had also made separate arrangements. But theirs were cancelled, so the three of us went to a jazz bar to meet with a high school friend of mine. It worked out quite well, because I talked to my friend, while Lisa and Kyle chatted across from us. Nobody felt left out, but it wasn’t like we had to encourage conversation between people.

I was pretty drunk by the time Kyle and I landed back in the apartment. I was tired, and quite frankly, less and less interested in having any more sex with him. I told him that I really didn’t want to that night, but come Thursday morning we’d have some fun before packing him up and sending him home.

I woke up at 8 after another fitful sleep, not really looking forward to the inevitable fooling around. I just can’t believe how unskilled he is…he’s been out longer than me, had a boyfriend or two, and still isn’t really good at much. Not to say that I am, but I felt a lot more competent than he acted.

I gave him a great blowjob, practically taking his entire cock down my throat, and very nearly triggering my gag reflex, which would have been an awful scene. Not that Kyle noticed, since he was moaning and had his eyes closed, but I would have been beyond embarrassed to dry-heave (or worse) into the garbadge can beside my desk.

When we both had finished, and collapsed onto the bed, he wrapped his arms around me again. ‘Great,’ I thought. ‘All I need right now is for him to be all lovey-dovey, when I don’t even want to be in bed with him anymore…’

“Thank you Steve. Thanks for everything. It was a great week,” was what he said.

I smiled, and told him he was more than welcome, and it was a fun time, and how it’d be strange not having him around anymore. But inside I was secretly pretty satisfied that I wouldn’t have to worry about him anymore, or have to deal with the possibility of him becoming interested (or being interested…I’m not sure how much he ‘liked’ me).

We had one more meal together, and then we packed off and went our separate ways. We said goodbye much the same way we said hello, with a handshake and a hug, and very few words between us.

I’m now at home, set to enjoy the last few days of my break as quietly as possible. No guys, no sex, just me back in the environment that seemed to bring out the deepest questions in me. Oh, and my prostate stimulator. Well, there was no sense leaving it in my drawer for the rest of the week, you know…

Reading week (part 1)...

The next morning, Sunday, I had promised to call Brian about going to brunch. I did, feeling pretty confident that I could allow my two worlds to collide, even if it was just for a few hours. Also considering the fact that both Kyle and Lisa know about my sexuality, and Lisa knows about Brian, I was pretty sure it’d be fine.

We did the shower thing, and I did some other domestic stuff like cleaning and laundry. Lisa was gone to work, and Kyle was still dozy after sleeping 10 hours. Finally Brian arrived, and I immediately recoiled. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea…

He was wearing a black shirt, pink tie, black pants, white boots, and some sort of manbag.

Now, I have nothing against guys who are into fashion, they usually look a hell of a lot better than the bums that I know (aka my friends), but I wasn’t prepared for such ‘formal’ ware. And admittedly he did look good. So we did the introductions and I shaved and then started getting dressed.

“Wait…Brian, tell me what to wear.”

He looked at me. “No! Just put on whatever you want to put on.”

I begged him a few minutes for advice, since I can haphazardly make myself presentable but wasn’t feeling particularly ‘on’ that day, but he refused. Finally, he caved, came in, and flipped through my closet. He tut-tutted quietly for a moment, gave a few suggestions, told me to shop for smaller sizes, and left me to get dressed.

We ate at the Churchmouse and Firkin, part of a chain of restaurants that has a location in the Village. This was my first gay brunch, so I was excited and more than a little curious. Would there be men with poodles drinking Cosmos and brandishing diamond-encrusted flatware? Brian chose the Firkin because (as I found out later) he was going for the least gay of the gay brunches, so as not to scare Kyle (since he didn’t know that he was gay).

Upon hitting the upstairs door, we immediately knew the plan had failed miserably. There, sitting at tables throughout the restaurant, were men of varying sizes, all dressed in some form or another of leathers.

As it turned out, we had stumbled on the “third Sunday of every month’s fundraising effort in support of PWA”, which led to some mild hilarity from overheard conversations discussing the finer points of leathers, what the ‘young guys’ are into, and how awkward it is to find some pieces in sizes bigger than Large.

Kyle excused himself, and immediately I started teasing Brian about his choice in brunches. He swore he had no idea about the leather thing, and I believe him. And then he went on about how well Kyle was taking it, since the entire scene was indeed quite gay. He laughed when I told him that he’s gay, and said it made a bit more sense.

After brunch, we caught a movie with Lisa. Staring Ryan Phillipe, some creepy guy, and the ever-brilliant Laura Linney, it was a bit of a letdown…not nearly as twisted or haunting as I had hoped. I love a good psychological/investigative thriller, but this didn’t deliver. We went back to Lisa’s, ate dinner, hung out…it was fun to have everyone together.

Then it came time for goodbyes, and Kyle, Brian and I walked back to my place. I’d invited Brian to stay, if he wanted, and he took me up on the offer. After an episode of Sex and the City, Kyle was off to sleep on the couch, and Brian and I slid under the covers.

In the morning, he made some comments about wondering if I’d miss him this week, since he’s out of town, and said things like “I hope you’re still single when I get back…” It felt a little awkward for me, since I don’t even know what we are, and I don’t even know what I want us to be…but I assured him that I would indeed miss him.

Monday came and went, and I felt Kyle’s eyes on me more and more. It was odd…more unusual, really, since I’m not used to receiving looks from guys before. It’s still a little hard for me to know what they all mean…and I didn’t want to overblow stuff since we had many more days to spend together. So on the elevator ride back to my apartment, I popped the question.

“So, you’ve been on the couch for a few days, would you like to sleep in a bed for a change?”

“Uh, probably. Sounds good.”

As we lay there, eyes adjusting to the darkness, there was some unintelligible muttering from both of us. We would turn to look at each other, then look away, then back…finally I tried the diplomatic route.

“Well, I always find that it’s good to do what you want…I mean, as long as there’s no pressure…and it’s what everyone wants…”

About two seconds went by, then I had flipped on top of him, with his tongue down my throat.

It was actually really unsatisfactory sex. After the usual activities, we came to the “are you top/bottom” discussion. I didn’t understand his answer, but when I said I like it either way, he started rubbing my ass. I took that as a sign.

He was really big, though, which was interesting. Second biggest I’ve seen in my short sample of the men of Toronto, but dammit all he didn’t know how to use it. After finally fingering me enough, he slid himself in, and attempted some crouched-humping-thing, with me doggy-style and him practically standing on the bed. After several thrusts, and a few position changes, we called it quits.
Tuesday Lisa again had work, so we spent the day wandering the city, with me showing him some of my favorite haunts. It had been clear from the day before that he wanted to go to a sex shop, and I was more than willing to be along for the ride. So that afternoon, we wandered into the Stag Shop on Church St., which, may I say, is an excellent store. I’d never been in that one before, and the staff and selection was great.

I’m not the most outgoing, super enthusiastic guy, but as it’s coming to sex, I’m not squeamish. I used to be, a little anyway, especially my first time buying anything from a sex store last year (I’ll tell that story one day). So I was quite happy to walk through the store, pick up packages, feel materials, and chat with the staff. Kyle, on the other hand, looked like a fifth-grader who landed himself in the principal’s office.

When we were in a corner, I whispered to him, “if you want me to leave so you can buy something, or to talk to somebody, I can. I want you to feel comfortable, and not miss buying something because you don’t want me around.”

He felt more reassured after that, and headed over to talk to the clerk about toys for beginner bottoms. I perused some more, constantly going back to an item, Doc Johnson’s Prostate Stimulator. It’s a stick-like object, with a vibrator inside, and two prongs. One hooks on the outside, and presses into the balls, while the other slides into your ass, at an angle to perfectly hit your prostate. This would be something I would be interested in.



After Kyle finished talking to the clerk, I asked about my toy, and got some general information. Apparently, according to the guy, he prefers prostrate stimulators that vibrate, as opposed to others that simply stimulate through contact. I could see his point, and after a quick demo to see if it worked, I was buying my first vibrating friend.

With a couple porn magazines in the pile, Kyle and I walked out and back to my place. He was eager to try out his butt plug, and I was very curious about my prostrate stimulator. I cleaned them both in my washroom before heading into the bedroom and grabbing the bottle of lube.

So much for 'time off'...

Wow, I've really missed being able to write these last few days. I've also missed having more than 2 minutes alone other than being in the washroom...there's always someone with me.

Truth is, I shouldn't be complaining. I'm not nearly as social as I want to be normally, so all this socializing in theory is great. But it's feast or fammine...and I'm pretty much full of all the social time I can take for this week. I just want to spend some alone time with myself, and no, I don't necessarily mean jerking off (though I'm sure that'd be in there somewhere).

I can't wait to tell you all about my last few days...we did lots of stuff, including some 'shopping' at a certain type of toy store. So right now my floor is partially covered in porn magazines and sex toys...

What else did we do?.......

Stay tuned, I'll be back Thursday night with a full recap.

The Visitors...

Saturday morning I got up and actually didn't feel bad about having relatively few plans. The first thing I did was get online to Ticketmaster, and prepare to buy my ticket to The Police concert in July. General Sale tickets went on sale at 10 a.m. and I wasn't going to miss going.

I love music, mostly anything not new. Right now I'm listening to CHFI's 'Sunday Morning Oldies', then I'll switch over to Q107's 'Pyschadelic Psunday'...basically I listen to old stuff of all genre's, with very few new artists on my radar. This is good, because I love the music with all my heart, but bad because none of my friends really do. I've got a few who like the classic rock stuff, The Doors, Zeppelin...but that's about it. So when it comes to concert time for me, I either get to sit at home and miss the concerts I want to see, or I go by myself.

It used to be weird going to shows alone. I mean, it's such a fun time when you go with people, drink and be merry, but the real reason I go to concerts is the music, not the festivities. I think I've only been to maybe 3-4 shows alone...otherwise I go with my Mom/Dad (how big of a loser am I?). But honestly, I tried to convince someone to go to Bonnie Raitt with me, but nobody wanted to go...everyone thinks she's 'soft rock' or something, but holy crap she played a mean show last year...I mean, that woman can play guitar!

So at 10 a.m. I hit refresh on my browser, selected 1 ticket, and hit 'find'. Thankfully I seemed to be on the first wave of buyers, because my wait was only 2 minutes. A ticket popped up, in a good-but-not-great seat, but it was the most I was willing to pay for the show, so I took it. Yay! I'm going to the Police! Now I just have to pray they keep it together long enough to play Toronto...

The rest of the morning was devoted to cleaning my room, organizing my laundry to do, and watching some CNN. Britney shaved her head, and honest to God CNN repeated it every 3 minutes the entire time I was watching. How stupid is that. Who cares!? The Anna-Nicole Smith thing deserved the coverage it got, because it's a sensational story. But Britney doesn't...she must be jealous of all the attention Anna had got...

At 1 I met Lisa outside my building, and we headed for the subway. Her best friend from the West Coast, Kyle, was coming for a visit this week, and we were picking him up at the airport. An hour's ride later, and we were standing in Terminal 3 at Pearson, scanning the arrival times.

Kyle finally came out of the doors, and Lisa went insane, jumping on top of him and screaming. It was really cute to see, they're best friends since High School and haven't seen each other since Christmas. After she tore herself off of him, he turned to me, hand outstretched. We shook, then I in mock super-excitment grabbed him in a hug. We laughed, and headed back to the bus stop.

Kyle is gay. He came out last year, and it was a little hard for Lisa to take at the time. They'd maybe-kinda-sorta been a thing at the end of High School, so she was a little let down that they weren't going to fall in love after school and live happily ever after. But it never affected their friendship, and they're closer than ever.

Kyle is also staying at my place. Lisa lives in a residence-style apartment complex that doesn't have big enough couches to crash on, so she asked me if I would mind if he slept here, and of course I don't. We then made some bad jokes about sleeping arrangements, which weren't exactly jokes...

We really hit it off yesterday, conversation came very easily and we'd already had the sex and sexuality talk within 3 hours of meeting. I was really sure we'd get along fine, since Lisa says we're a lot alike, but it was great to find out that we actually do.

I cooked us dinner (yes, I'm a good cook, and it's something I don't mind doing either) and we ended up going out for a few beers with a couple friends. Kyle was dying, I could tell, since he hadn't slept in pretty much 24 hours and had flown across the country, so I kept asking him if he was ok. Finally, he caved, and said he kinda wanted to leave. So we said our goodbyes and he and I left.

The Roommate was away last night, so I knew we would have the place entirely to ourselves. I grabbed us each a glass of water, and did a few things around the place...see earlier in the evening I could swear I caught him checking me out, more than once I would turn my head and find his eyes staring into mine. I didn't know how to take it, so I just smiled and gave him some eye action back.

So I had no expectations when we got back here...I'm not that insane, even if my life has actually been including sex lately. He asked where he'd be staying, and I said either the couch or in my bed. I immediately realized how that sounded, but I didn't explain that it would be a non-sexual stay in my bed (if he wanted)...the problem with the couch is that my Roommate is a bitch and will be up until 3 a.m. every night making dinner when Kyle is trying to sleep on the couch. I don't have enough floor space to blow up a matress for him...so the choices are either sleep on the couch and not sleep, or sleep in my bed.

Naturally, I didn't coherenlty expalin that last night, since I'd been drinking, and kinda hoping he'd make a move. So when I told him 'bed or couch' he immediately said couch. I pulled out a pillow, couple blankets, and laid them out for him. He came out of the bathroom, smiled at me, thanked me again for letting him stay, and moved over to the couch.

"Good night, Steve," he said, which sounded so formal and so odd to me. I smiled, and said goodnight.

I called Brian when I got into my room to say hi, and we chatted for a few minutes. He asked what we were doing this weekend, and I told him probably brunch this afternoon. Brian was supposed to leave town on Monday, but now he's staying until Tuesday, so I keep thinking I won't be able to see him again until next week, and he keeps surprising me by being available. So I invited him (tentatively) to brunch today.

"Oh no, I don't want to make it awkward..." he said, but I know he really wants to go.

"It's fine, I want you to come."

"Yeah, I know, but..."

"Brian, they know. Don't worry about it. They're the small minority who do know. It's ok."

"Oh..." So we made the deal that I'll call him today if I'm still ok with him coming along.

I'm really excited about having someone stay over from another city, because we get to do the whole Touristy-Toronto stuff that people who live here don't generally do. Sadly I won't be free to post as much as I'd like to, so bear with me over this week. I'll try to take advantage of some time that I get to update you on the week. Plus I really need to vent about what the hell I want right now...I have a few very interesting cases in point that I can't wait to compare.

Have a good Sunday, grab a coffee and enjoy the sun.

Lord, grant me sleep (part 3)...

I woke up a little early on Friday morning, feeling a little guilty about being in Brian's bed for the second night in a row, and feeling more than a little tired. I usually get my 8 hours every night, and I can function fine if I miss them for a night...but two nights in a row was a little tough to swing.

As I laid there, I though about everything that'd happened in the past few days. It had been probably the most amazing relationship-type experience I've ever had...we'd gone out, gotten to know each other, spent a Valentines Day together...on one hand, it's great. On the other, things were moving pretty fast, and I don't even know what type of relationship I want. Hell, I don't even know if I like him enough to be with him in a relationship...

The truth is, I don't really know what I want. I decided that I can never allow myself to just be happy, I have to overanalyze everything, worry about things...I even did some worrying in a fung-shuei themed panic; I wish I'd have gone out with my friends this week, but I was acutally finally having the opportunity to be with someone...therefore my energy is never balanced, or some such crap.

There is more to come on the 'what I want' theme, but it's a story I'm saving for the next post.

I dozed off again, and woke up at 10. Brian rolled over, rolled me on top of him, and proceeded to make out with me for a chunk of time. He shifted me forward, my cock pointing directly into his face, and I sat straight upright as he sucked me. He has no blinds, so there I was for anyone to see, and as I glanced out the window I realized other units in his building could probably see in if they were looking...which was kinda hot but kinda not.

I slid back down on top of him, and we proceeded to do some dry humping. He fingered me slowly, then lined himself up rubbing my ass...it was hot. I rolled off of him, and in passing felt my crack, which had become wet with precum. He flipped over, and I slowly rubbed myself around his ass, and finally got some moans out of him.

This has been the first time that I'd wanted to wait to have anal sex. I mean, I like it, and I like him...but I didn't want to with him at that moment. It felt almost too fast, and quite honestly I don't know where he stands on sex issues. He said he doesn't hook up, but then he was fine with being with me, but then he was hesitant at first. So I don't really want to rush him, or put a stress on 'we must have anal sex', because it's something that can wait.

Finally I got dressed, and had terrible bed-head. I didn't bother to shower since I was now running late, so I asked him for some help. He laughed at me, running his fingers through my hair, and told me there wasn't much he can do.

"Oh, but here, take a hat," he said, pulling out a green hat, a touque-esque thing with a rim on it. I've never worn one of these before, and started to protest, but he pulled it on my head, adjusting the bill so it stuck out on 'the angle', and pulled some hair down onto my forhead. I immediately felt goofy, because I have no sense of how I look or how to style myself in these 'hip/cool' clothes. But he said it looked cute (which I can't trust, because everything looks cute on me to him so far), so I got a quick kiss and headed out the door.

In the elevator, I checked myself out. I did indeed, after getting over the initial shock of seeing myself in said hat, look pretty good.

Class and my meeting with a prof went well, and I realized I'd spent a half out feeling stressed that moring for nothing. After it was over, I called Lisa, because I needed an update on her Valentines night. We headed for lunch, which took about 2 hours, and involved both of us getting kinda drunk in celebration of our success in the dating world. It was actually really fun.

While we were at lunch, Jack texted me. He's one of the other dates I'd lined up for the week, but who hadn't been available until now. He agreed to meet for coffee at 4, and said he was free all day but had to be home early for work the next morning.

Lisa then asked the inevitable. "I'm really happy that you're doing the dating thing, but how are you going to choose?"

I looked at her. This was another thing nagging me...Brian and I were already a few steps ahead of the other guys, but its not like it's anything serious yet. So the way it's going to work for now is I go on my dates with the other 2 guys (possibly 3 depending on how Rez-Guy goes), and if it goes well go on a few more and see which I like the most. I doubt I can do the multiple boyfriend thing, and I wouldn't want to, so at some point I'm going to have to choose. But that's a little in the future.

At 4 I met up with Jack, who gave me a semi the moment I saw him. He's tall and slender, with well defined features and a certain 'air' around him. As we talked, I found out he's also sweet, kind, very intelligent and passionate about politics, like me. This was all good. He works a pretty crazy job where he's never actually in town, and never spends his vacation time here, so I don't really know how things would work out between us...but that's something to worry about in the future.

It was a fun conversation that lasted until after 6, when he suggested that he needed to go shopping for a swimsuit for his vacation next week. I figured he wouldn't want me along...or he would want to show off in front of me. So we went shopping, finally winding up in lululemmon athletic wear. He grabbed 2 board shorts, and headed to the changeroom. He stepped out first in the green pair (sadly still wearing his shirt...but who would take their shirt off to try on a pair of shorts?) and walked over to me and the mirror. He looked himself up and down, turned around, and pulled them tight across his ass.

"How do they look?" he said, motioning to his ass. They showed his very nice ass just fine, and they looked nice on him. I said so, and he tried on the second pair with the same method. These ones were brown, and looked as nice as the green ones. His ass again looked very nice in them, and that seemed to be the biggest concern for him. He hesitated, since he "doesn't wear green," but ended up buying the green pair.

He walked me to the subway, and stopped. "So what is the custom here, do we shake hands or hug?.." I reached out and wrapped my arms around him. We pulled away, and he stepped a few feet from me, saying that he would be away for a few days but might be back early in the week before he's gone on vacation, and I've got his number, and his e-mail, and to stay in touch to see if he's free. Then he gave me the look.

I'd been scared that he wasn't really interested, because he didn't seem to be making any passes at me, but there, standing on the platform, he gave me the piercing glance that I was afraid wasn't coming. I scampered home all excited and really, really tired.

Friday evening I was invited to a house party from friends at school, and was planning on going, but when I got in the door, I couldn't build up enough strength to go back out again. I really should have, because I never get invited to house parties, but I was dead exhausted. That, and the fact that I didn't really know anybody who was going...which shouldn't stop me and I felt immediately guilty about even thinking...

So I stayed in, ate some Thai food, and chatted to some friends online, and finally collapsed into bed.

Lord, grant me sleep (part 2)...

We woke up Thursday morning pressed against each other. Laying there, the sun coming through his shadeless windows, we snuggled, talked, made out...literally continued our evening into the morning. Finally, I suggested a shower.

Standing under the steaming hot water, we rubbed each other down, washed our hair, and did some more fooling around. He pulled out some vanilla-scented wash, and lathered me up all over. It smelled great, and I turned around to clean him up.

"You don't have to," he said. It's really nice to be selflessly pleausered, but I always feel guilty when someone does something for you that you can easily, and willingly, do for them. So I smiled, and shook my head, and started massaging the body wash in.

We toweled off, and actually got dressed. Both of us had class...but we decided not to go. Hell, I was having too much fun, and I never get to do this stuff! I asked if he wanted to go to breakfast/lunch, and he agreed.

Brian lives in the west side of the city, and about an hour's walk from the core. We walked along side by side, smiling stupidly at each other, the hot sun warming us against the chilly wind. After walking by about a million resturants that I would have loved to eat at (but didn't say so), he suggested walking a little further, to try a place he'd had his eye on. So we kept walking.

Finally we arrived in the area of the resturant, but he couldn't find it. It had a green sign, he said, but damned if we could see it. So we ketp walking, finally reaching our alternate choice at about 2 p.m.

Lunch went by so fast, even though we were there for over an hour. We chatted and laughed and did more smiling at each other. I'm sure we were a vomit-enducing scene, but our very gay waiter didn't give us any funny looks, so we must have been ok.

It was time to go our seperate ways. We hugged breifly on the street, and I immediately felt bad leaving him. He went one way, I went the other...I got home and tried to catch myself up on what had happened since about noon on Wednesday. I could barely keep my eyes open...so I did something I never do. I slid into bed, set my alarm for an hour, and had a nap.

I jolted awake at 6:30 feeling worse than I had when I went to sleep. My mother was in town and we'd made dinner plans, and even though I was exhausted, I headed out to meet her for 7. I grabbed a pint while I waited for her to show up, which she did, about 10 mintues late. We ate, and I was pretty quiet at first. I mean, I would have loved to tell her about my Valentines Day and this guy I'm kinda seeing...but it really wasn't the time or place to come out.

At 8 I was on my second pint and missing Brian. Mom went to the washroom, and I did what I told myself I wouldn't do; I texted him wondering if he was free.

"Why can't I see you on the weekend?" was his response. I felt a little let down, but since we'd just spent a huge chunk of time together, I could understand.

2 seconds later, another text comes. "But you're more than welcome to come here."

Dinner drew to a close, my Mom dropped me off at my place, and I turned around and headed back out. A rough hour later I was in his lobby, then in his room, then on his couch...

At about 12:30, I was getting worried. I had to get the hell going if I wanted to make the last bus. In truth I just wanted to spend the night, but I didn't know how to bring it up. I mentioned about how late it was, and he told me simply that I could stay, he wanted me to. So we hit his bed, which is totally comfortable and bigger than mine. We didn't stay up all night again, mostly because I was falling asleep while we were getting off.

So is this what you do with a guy you're dating?...

Lord, grant me sleep (part 1)...

Well, I've had a great past couple of days. It all went back to Valentines...

I got off the bus way too early, successfully missing my stop and having to walk for what felt like hours in the cold to get to Brian's place. Finally I walked up to the bus shelter where he was waiting for me, and had been for a bit of time. He didn't seem to mind all that much, and we took off for his place.

His apartment, like that of so many students, was semi-dirty, slightly delapidated, and painted multiple, ugly colours. It turned out that Brian had made up a bunch of food for us, and we stood awkwardly in his kitchen as we 'cooked' the frozen pizza and other stuff. I met his roommate Ryan, whom I'll talk about later...I felt a little uncomfortable, since I was on a date, on Valentines, with a boy who goes to my school, and a roommate who does too.

I'd resolved on my way over that, if things turned out like I was expecting them to, I would stop and tell Brian I'm a closeted bisexual and not an out gay guy. We'd never talked about it before...and I didn't want to go to bed with him not telling him the truth. Even though I was terrified about being thrown out...I couldn't live with myself, considering this wasn't some guy who I picked up for sex, this was a guy I've been out on dates with, who might turn into something more.

As the food cooked, I pulled out a heart-shaped box of Lindt chocolates I'd bought for him. He seemed really happy that I'd gotten him something, and he presented me with a card and a box. I opened the card first (because I'm so damn polite) and read it to myself. Underneath the card's contents he'd written:

"I hope you have a great V-Day...stuck with me. =)"

Ahh, self-depricating humour. How I love thee.

Inside the box was a bag of cinnamon hearts, and two 'novelty dice' with some pretty boring yet somehow explicit instructions. Ah ha, you wouldn't be giving these to someone unless you inteded to use them, right?

We ate and watched Sex and the City. After we finished eating we snuggled up, his hand playfully rubbing me in all sorts of places. Then we kissed for the first time. It was really all romantic-like, very much a vomit-enducing scene I'm sure, but hell, I was having the best Valentines day of my life. I got to spend it with someone who I liked, and who had a thing for me.

As the credits rolled on another episode of Sex, I pulled away from his lips and looked down at the floor. I've gotta get better control over myself in these situations...I felt nautious and lightheaded as I tried to form the words.

"There's something I've got to tell you. I'm not out. Just to a few people, and I'm in the process, but I'm not out."

I paused while I waited for the axe to fall.

"Thats ok."

"There's more...I'm actually not gay. I'm bisexual. I hope thats all ok with you..."

"Yeah, I don't care."

What!? He doesn't care?

"Just, I've found that guys usually hate closeted guys, or closeted bisexuals...and..."

"No. It's fine."

Stunned at the fact I didn't have to plead out my case to him, and that I wasn't being escorted from his couch, I moved in for another kiss. Time went by, and somewhere along the line my shirt came off. But when I moved to pull his over his head, he stopped me. After muttering a few things, he resumed kissing me.

Great, now what do I do? I'm sitting here, no shirt on, making out with a guy who refuses to take off his. Do I put mine back on? Do I sit here? Am I being too upfront?...I opted to sit there with no shirt on until I had more information.

We cracked a bottle of wine and dug into some iced cream as we watched another episode. Time seemed to fly by, but stand still as we snuggled and groped on the couch, now fuled by wine (and iced cream, the ultimate aphrodesiac). Finally, we stood up and moved to his bed. Laying there, we lost our clothes, and held each other's newly exposed naked body. He rolled me on top of him, grabbing my cock in the process, and started beating me off. He was surprisingly agressive, but changed his speed constantly. After several position shifts, he leaned his head down my stomach and started going down on me.

This was a surprising turn, considering the fact that a while ago he didn't want to get naked. But now he seemed fully into it, his head bobbing around with abandon. I was pretty impressed with the job he was doing, and pretty soon I was blowing a really big load across my abs and chest. Naturally I started to return the favor, but he stopped me halfway through.

"I cum really easily," he said sheepishly, adding "but I can usually go 5 or 6 times a night." Ahh, quantity, but would it be over quality?

After we were both finished and collapsed into each others arms, we resumed talking. He told me about his past relationships, and how he didn't like to just hook up and have sex with anyone. He only wanted to sleep with someone he knew and liked, not just met an hour ago. I was flattered, and a little scared. Had I pushed myself on him? Did I pressure him into bed with me?

But he looked into my eyes, and in this crazy way he has, made me smile. I asked if everything was all right, and he confirmed that he'd wanted to, it was all fine. He put on the radio to our local jazz station, lit up a few candles, and we laid back and snuggled.

Honestly, I don't remember how many times we got off that night, but it'd be safe to say several. We finally passed out at about 4, but it wasn't long before he'd rolled me over and we were at it again...but I don't usually keep those kinds of hours.

It was the most amazing evening. I got to experience a relationship with a guy from the very start, the first date flirting, and the eventual comfort that takes hold when sitting on the couch, making out and watching TV. I can't believe how amazing it feels to be wanted by someone else, and have it so plainly evident. The flattery hasn't gone to my head, but all of this, and on my typical 'lonely Valentines Day' was a lot to take in.

Snap back to reality...

I swore up and down I wasn't going to post again today. I was going to worry about finishing school work, and getting ready for tonight. But this...this blows me away.

I jump on one of the 'dating' sites I belong to, and have 1 message. Look at it...hmm, this guy's cute, but strangely farmiliar. Look closer, at another picture...and holy shit it's the 'token gay guy' from my Residence floor last year.

Last year I always thought he was really cute, but never really got to know him. He was always out with his friends, and never seemed too interested in getting to know me. I clearly remember finding out he was gay at the beginning of last year, our mutual friend was hanging out in my room, and she said something about his 'boy back home'.

"Wait a minute, he's gay?" I said, surprised, and very excited at the prospect.

"Um, yeah, I kinda thought so, then he told me about his boyfriend..." she said. "Why, didn't you think he was gay?"

"Actually no, I like to think that straight guys can have a sense of style and class..."

So now what do I do? I mean, I've had a bit of an attraction to him since I lived with him. He's got the cutest smile. If I were out I'd say sure, this is my dream come true. But since I'm not, what will I do? We have all of 2 mutual friends, both of whom I don't really spend much time with. He'd tell them, wouldn't he? And would he still want me if he knew the guy he was messaging online was the guy who lived down the hall from him last year?

I mean this as a totally serious issue. I'm not just going to flippantly say "Oh sure, lets shag and please don't tell anybody." But I'm also not going to ignore his response, and miss out on an opportunity to actually be with someone who I've had my eye on for a while.

I need some advice super fast about what the hell I should do now. Holy shit, this world is small.

Ah, to be young and in love...

A very Happy Valentines Day to everyone!

I know that most people knock it because it's a fabricated holiday, with little actual meaning. If you don't show your partner you love them regularily, why bother being in a relationship?

But I disagree. For all those who shower their partner in attention and love every other day of the year, do it double time today. Make your partner and yourself feel extra special. Why not? It's not like it hurts anybody, and it's one day of the year where you're allowed to be totally, completely, undevidedly dedicated to your mate.

I'm going to have my first Valentines in my 20 years that I actually get to spend it with someone I'm even remotely interested. This will be an experience for me, something that I'm just so looking forward to having. I'm so into it that I actually texted 15 people this morning to say Happy Valentines, as if we were still in school handing out stupid 2" paper cards.

So for all you singles out there, I feel your pain. No matter how much you say you don't care, or how you loathe couples who are going to be making out on the street everywhere you go today, just remember some lyrics that I can't help but type today (because I'm in such a Valentines mood):

'When you think that love is only,
For the lucky and the strong,
Just remember, in the winter,
Far beneath the bitter snow,
Lies the seed, that with the sun's love,
In the spring, becomes,
The rose.'

Oh, so thats all it takes...

Last Thursday evening was a blast, even if it was a little rushed. I gawked in horror at the fact that I had a midterm that night until 7 p.m. Resigned to the fact I had to concentrate, and was missing the company of my out of town friends, I wrote my midterm. The second I was done I bolted out the door and headed to Laura's apartment.

* * * * * * *
Laura and I were very close friends through high school. She was also the first girl I'd really fallen for. We've got this chemestry that still hangs around to this day, which can make for some pretty interesting evenings. But when I wanted to go out with her during high school, she wasn't interested in dating anyone. Time passed, I figured it was long gone. She came to Toronto to school, and I moved on.

Then two summers ago, the summer before I came to Toronto, we fired things back up while she was home for summer break. We both were interested again, it seemed, and we were headed in the right direction. But I thought to myself, "I'm moving to a new city, and even though she lives there too, I don't want to rely on her instead of meeting new people." She apparently thought the same thing, though we never discussed it with each other.

I found out in December of that year from her sister's boyfriend that she had been crazy about me that summer, and had wanted to get into something. He even named the weekend in early August where she was about to ask me out. But her conscious had told her not to bother me when I was about to start a new chapter in life, with the possibility of meeting someone new.

That chemestry haunts me sometimes. One of the first times she came to visit me in residence, we ran into a girl who lived down the hall from me. Laura was on roller blades, demanding that I pull her along the carpeted floor. I, naturally, was being a pain about it, and at one point we almost ended up on the grond. After I had piled her into the elevator, my neighbour came to talk to me.

"Wow. So are you guys dating? You're such a couple."

Yeah, that pretty much hit it on the head. A couple who don't date.
* * * * * * *

I arrived at her apartment, threw one very large and very stiff rum and coke down my throat, and we headed back out to the show. There were a bunch of us, Laura, her roommate and his friend, Laura's sister and her boyfriend, some other couple and me. On the elevator ride down, Laura and her sister were fidgeting with their bras a little more than usual. I gave her a look, and she pulled two joints out of her strap.

"Ah. Cool."

Once inside the Air Canada Centre, our big arena/music venue, we found our seats in time to hear the rather pathetic music of 'Buck 65', some sort of rap/hip-hop performed by white guys. I'm not a rap fan, so Joe (the sister's bf) and I headed to buy some beers. $18 and two very small pints later, we were back in our seats. Buck 65 finished, and Joe and I got to have a great chat. He's a friend from highschool too, we go back a long way.

The Tragically Hip came on stage to a roar of mostly 20-30-something audience members, sloshing their beer about in rythem to the beat. I got into the show too, they were pretty awesome players and for being 'new rock' they really know how to not screw it up.

Of course, through the concert, I was also checking out the bevy of hot guys who came either in groups of guys or with their presumed girlfriends. As I was studying them, I was shocked at how much of a carbon copy they were of each other. Practically all of them were wearing the same type of clothes, had the same haircuts, and the same looking girlfriends on their arms.

I wondered then if that's all it takes to be successful in both social and sexual endevors. To be the successful, typical 'college guy' you must wear:
-a polo of either short or long sleeved variety. Bonus points given if you wear it with the collar up, and have a well displayed necklace of some variety
-a hoodie. Specifically not just anything with a hood, but something that is your sweater/shirt and has a well-covering hoodie
-a baseball hat, perched at any angle other than straight
-jeans that are not ripped/frayed or stone washed, but are more skater-like, or khakis that are a darker shade, also of the skater variety

So the reason I've been single all through college is the fact I've missed the dress code memo. Well, 'dress for success' they always say...I of course find it hard to believe that if I indeed pull on a polo and baseball hat I would become an instant success. But still, it's pretty amazing to think that all it takes is a certain kind of shirt or a hood to give you an advantage.

The show ended, we headed back to Laura's place for more drinks and hanging out. I bailed wayyy to early because I had another mid-term Friday morning that I couldn't exactly miss. But I had a great time, came home to a nice surprise, felt very happy, and did my part to better the scientific understanding of being in college.

I will post...tomorrow...

I promise a more fully realized, better written, deeper, more professional post tomorrow.

On the weekend I thought of literally 4 or 5 topics to post on. But since I've been kinda caught up in something else, I didn't get to write any of those. Plus, the last post wasn't exactly detail-heavy...he's cute, shorter than me, non-slutty, loves movies and old music and Sex and the City...

Could it be...

Ahh...back to civilization. Back to the busy city streets, lights that burn all night, car horns and aeroplanes and being harassed by the homeless.

I had a brilliant weekend up North, doing the whole Canadian cabin-in-the-woods thing with my parents. We played in the snow and had fires and generally enjoyed the Canadian winter, with this being the first time we've gone up yonder to enjoy the outdoors. I didn't get any skiing in sadly, but I've got some plans to go soon with a friend. Skip a day of school, head to a ski hill not too far from the city, and ski my ass off for the day.

While I was away I made several observations about myself. I enjoyed the time with my family immensely, as I always do, but I couldn't help thinking to myself how much sweeter the weekend would have been had I someone to share it with. Sitting in front of the fire, drinking beer and staring out at the frozen lake, throwing snowballs at each other, dinner, swimming in the pool, relaxing in the sauna, climbing into that queen sized bed...

I also can't believe how much I missed my daily writing. It was hard not to think of a million things to say, and resist the urge to pull out a pad of paper and start jotting things down. But I didn't...any my memory is shot tonight, so the big musing of the weekend was about actually wanting someone to share it with.

My time back in the city has also been pretty interesting and unexpected. I arrived home Monday night, tire, resigned to studying for midterms. I had been in the door about half an hour when I started talking to Brian, a guy who I've chatted with on and off for the past few weeks. Our conversations always were a little strained, with me imagining him as some rather uninterested, fabulous guy who was wasting his time talking to me. But it turns out, he's a lot like I am.

We talked about each others weekends, and he admitted that he hadn't done much of anything. I was shocked, considering my pre-fabricated ideas about him. Then, with piles of work over my head, I said the words I can't seem to stop saying, "Would you like to do something tonight?"

An hour and a bit later, I was on a streetcar headed to meet him for dinner. We ate, talked, laughed a lot, smiled coyly at each other, got lost in each others stares, went for drinks after a two hour dinner, and parted awkwardly at the subway station. It was amazing. I had a successful date.

When I got home, I did some last-ditch studying, and headed for bed. But I couldn't bring myself to shut my phone off. I stared at it for a few minutes, so much on my mind. Basically, the evening ended a little too coldly for my liking, and I wanted him to know it. I wanted to give him a passionate kiss on the tracks and leave him wanting more. But there were people all around us, and no matter how gay-friendly Toronto is, I couldn't bring myself to do it in that public of a place.

So there I was, 1:20 a.m., cell in hand. I opted for e-mail instead (so I could shut my phone off and still get his reply). I wrote simply: "I wish I had kissed you at the station."

This morning, when I checked my mail, he had replied a minute after my message. "I wish you had as well."

With a smile on my face, I headed to class. Halfway through, my phone vibrates a sticatto pulse. New text message.

"Hey, I wondered if you wanted to go for coffee after your class?"

At 3 p.m. we met up again, went for coffee, which turned into shopping, which turned into walking around the city, freezing ourselves and our ears in the process. We chatted, did more awkward smiling at each other. And then I asked him.

"What are you doing for Valentines Day."

So now we have plans for tomorrow night, involving iced cream, mini frozen pizzas, Sex and the City and some rather bad wine.

Tonight, while I was hanging out at Lisa's, he called me out of the blue. Just wanting to chat. Asking if I was cold, since it's snowing like crazy tonight. I promised to call him back when I got home.

And I did. We talked for an hour about nothing in particular, he told me he hoped he wasn't boring me to death; I laughed and told him the same thing. We both said about a million times how much we're looking forward to tomorrow night, though never really discussing what tomorrow night will be all about. I said goodnight, since I'm really wiped and need to get some sleep.

Three minues later, my cell vibrates. New text message.

"Am i allowed to say i really like you :)"

Oh God. What am I getting myself into?...

Surely you've touched mine...

I've got the grins.

Honestly, it's true. Ok, so I smoked some pot tonight...but thats only making it feel sweeter.

I've gotta thank everyone who's emailed me, and of course the wonderful Tim at I Think I Might Be Gay for the kind words and blogging about little old me. Its quite a treat to be complimented by the likes of you Tim, and I really have been touched by the e-mails I've received. It's nice to know there's someone out there listening to my rants.

Hopefully you've all got busy weekends, because I'm going to be out of town, and out of Internet access from now 'till Monday night. But I'll be back with my observations of the Tragically Hip concert I was at tonight, including ponderings on why there are so many hot college guys who go to Hip concerts. Oh, and I've lined up some dates for the next week or two...God knows how it's going to go since I'm kinda closeted still...but I'll complain to you later!

Cheers!

My eye is on...

I haven't really been attracted to any guys I've seen on the street, other than a "he's hot" type of attention. Sure, I see lots of hot guys every day walking past me, but I never really imagine anything other than them naked. But lately I've realized there are a few boys on my radar.

One is the Starbucks Guy. He's got to be 19-20, with soft brown hair, a really cute face and eyes you can get lost in. I see him a couple times a week when I visit a certain Starbucks during the day, and he usually talks to me. Nothing really big, but the general "Hi, how are you" type of chat. I know that as an employee you're supposed to butter up the customer, but I like to think he's genuinely friendly. He's also got a really cute voice. It's not high pitched, but it's not lower either, it falls somewhere in the middle. But it's very distinct.

I don't know when it passed from checking him out to a semi-crush on the Starbucks Guy, but now every time I go, I hope that he's working, and that I get to see him smile and say hi. He just looks so damn cute standing there behind the counter, with his green apron on. I wonder if he thinks I'm checking him out, because I often will turn and look at him on my way out the door, and kinda smile stupidly.

So how do you pick up a guy like that? First, is he gay? Who knows, if he is it isn't super-obvious. Second, how do I put the moves on him in a public place? I wouldn't even know what to say...probably something along the lines of "What do you do when you're not working?..." I'm inept at picking anyone up, male or female, but he seems like a pretty laid-back kind of guy. Who knows, maybe one of these days I'll just come out and say it.

The second guy is in one of my classes. I'd never seen him before this semester started, and none of my friends seem to know him. But he's cute, and very obviously gay. I've started at him through several classes, and seen him looking at me too. He's tall, dark haired and wears the ugliest jacket I've ever seen (I'm sure it's some sort of fashion statement). I've taken a bit of a liking to him, who knows why considering I don't know him. But I can't keep my eyes off him sometimes...

Two weeks ago, while we were on break from the class, I went for a walk to stretch my legs. He was standing in the hallway, and as I walked by he smiled at me. I smiled, and stopped, and we chatted for a minute about how we like the class. He was really friendly, which was nice, but as we were talking a person I needed to harass for notes walked by, so I had to cut our conversation short. It was sad, because at the very least I could have made a new friend...hopefully we get another opportunity to talk again soon.

I'm the worst at just walking up to someone and saying hi. Once I meet people, I'm generally fine with conversation, but as far as out-of-the-blue introductions, I'm not good at all. There's a list of people I'd love to get to know from my classes, but I really have no way of introducing myself to them. I'm always paranoid that they generally would think I'm some sort of clingy weirdo if I just walked up to them and started talking. Ah well, another life skill I need to work on.

So my two semi-crushes, Starbucks Guy and Class Guy, are staying on my radar until I figure out what to do next.

Pay it no mind...

Why do we care so much what other people, particularily our friends, think of us and of our actions?

The reason is obvious, with most people we would hate for them to look at us as if we were strange and associating with us would be socially undesireable. So we alter ourselves, not necessarily drastic changes, but enough so that people won't be put off by something we said or did.

Case in point, yesterday afternoon a group of friends and I randomly went to see Children of Men after class. We got into the theatre just in time (damn cheap ticket Tuesdays, every bloody retiree and their mother was there), and settled into some pretty good seats.

As the movie played (it's excellent, if you haven't seen it, I suggest you do, really powerful film) I found myself on the verge of tears in a few scenes. I'll not explain them too much, in case you haven't seen it, but two moments where I was trying not to cry featured the beautiful goodbye between Michael Caine and his wife, and of course later in the film, the parting of the sea of people upon seeing a human baby.

I was just so overwhelmed by the amazing performances, the cinematography...truely an amazing film (not many make me cry, for the record). But as I sat in the dark theatre, I fought the urge to leak a tear or two. With a friend on either side of me, I was terrified to reach up and wipe my eyes, fearful of their reaction.

Would guy on the right recoil in horror at the fact a friend and fellow student would be crying in a movie theatre filled with strangers? Might the girl to my left laugh out loud at the fact I'm sobbing over Michael Caine's performance?

Looking back, I doubt either of them would have cared in the slightest, they're great people and generally very liberal. But my social fear, that I'd be blacklisted as a soft-hearted sucker, prevented me from being myself. I don't even know why I care about such a trivial issue; crying in that movie would certainly be allowed by many. But I couldn't bring myself to just...be myself.

And why would I be so terrified about my friends reaction? It begs the further question...how will I handle coming out to my friends when I can't even cry in a movie in front of them?

Know when to hold 'em...

I got up this morning with my usual horny attitude, sporting morning wood and an itch that needed to be scratched. So naturally I headed to my computer, and started looking for some porn. Some reason or another, I came across a slideshow-video of guys kissing. Nothing gets me off better than seeing hot guys making out, so I played the video.

What I got treated to was someone's compalation of MySpace photos of young guys and their boyfriends kissing. So for about a minute and a half, I got to watch hot 18-year-old guys kissing each other...and of course I started feeling like crap.

I never got to do any of this! I still don't, and now I'm older and nowhere closer than I was when I was 18. Nobody will want an innocent relationship with me, only something that's either physical or 'mature dating' since I'm over the hill of 18-19 years old.

Where do these guys even find boyfriends? I thought that the majority of the United States was still bigoted and despised homosexuality, yet there are highschool boys on MySpace making out with their boyfriends for all the world to see.

Then, my anger broke. I either have convinced myself of this to psychologically trick myself into being alright with it, or I'm actually on to something.

It has never been in the cards for me.

I'm from small-town-bum-fuck-nowhere, where bigotry and intolerance are still very prevalant. My extended family all seem to hate homosexuals, my friends from highschool made fun of 'homos' all the time. I never even knew anyone who was openly gay all through my highschool years, or of anyone in the closet for that matter.

Since I'm a few years older, I also realized that I grew up during the transition time...not that everyone embraces homosexuals now, but there have been tremendous strides in tolerance over the past few years.

So I felt a little better in knowing that I was never given the opportunity (yet) to love and be loved by a guy. It was never in the cards I was delt for all those years. And I justified to myself that I've just never had the chance.

Of course, some of you will say "Screw that, make your own destiny! Go out and find a guy and fuck everyone else!" and I accept that argument. If you want something you usually have to work for it. But in terms of lamenting my lost sexual youth, I've come to some terms with the fact that it was never going to happen in high school anyway. It was just never in the cards.

Oh, the humanity (part two)...

I laughed and told Lisa, who then said:

"I'm a little worried about you. Not about the fact you're going online, but the fact you're sleeping with guys when you don't even know what you want."

I then got to feeling even worse than before. She didn't look down at me when I told her about my 'guys on the side' before, but tonight she seemed to be getting worried about what I was doing. I questioned her about what exactly she was 'worried' about, considering we'd had the safe-sex discussion, and the fact that I was actually enjoying some sexual activity.

"It's just, you don't know what you want with Jamie, and you visited that other guy more than once, does he mean anything to you?..."

I started wondering if the reason she was 'worried' is because I'm not being monogamous with any specific person. Sure, I got a few under my belt, but now she must think that I should settle for sex with one guy, regardless of if we're going out or not.

Now, I'm not entirely sure, because we never finished that part of the discussion. So I'll just have to wait and see what she says face to face.

I ended up telling Nate (the guy who messaged me, the one who I've hung out with twice) that I wasn't up for anything tonight, since I've got studying to do and have to be in bed at a decent hour. After that, I collapsed into my chair, and felt awful. Just a sick feeling, eminating from the pit of my stomach, totally distracting me from doing much of anything. I just felt so swallowed up in the immenseness of it all...not that I expect my change in life to be as simple as clicking my heels...but I've already worked through a lot of what I thought was bothering me in December. Now, I've got a fresh weight hanging over me.

I just want so desperately to be embraced by a boy, someone who wants to spend time curled up in bed with me, watching tv or reading, having a home-made dinner together, hitting the town for an afternoon of culture or an evening of drinking...

See, I missed the whole relationship-jumping in highschool. I had my fun with a few girls, but somehow stayed single for the senior years. I never got any of the fun, dopey, corny 'together time' with anyone special, since I was never really going out with anyone. And it's not like I think it's dopey or corny to want to snuggle with a guy my age while watching Boston Legal tomorrow night, or having dinner on Thursday evening...I know I don't want an infatuation, an obsession with one person where I can't spend a moment without them. I just want a little love and attention through the week. Unfortunately the only love and attention I can get right now begins with a conversation online and ends with cum drying on my body.

So I trudged out in the freezing cold once more to find some food for my single dinner. I went to the grocery store, found some good-looking frozen home-cooked-style dinners, but decided against waiting for the oven to blast the package for an hour. In January I promised myself not to go to McDonalds anymore, but tonight there seemed no other place to go, so I started walking to find one.

After getting very cold because I forgot my mits, I landed into a Micky-Dee's and hurried up to the counter. I just wanted my poison, and then wanted to get the hell out of there. But naturally there was a lineup (after 8pm on a Monday night...), so I waited paitently.

And who was ordering before me? Hot college-aged gay guys.

And how do I know they were gay? Other than the beautiful tans, the cleverly torn jeans, the overly put-together hairstyles and the all-telling fur-lined jackets, they were loudly making plans with each other (and other guys on the phone) about which gay bar to go out to tonight.

Fuck. I'm buying McDonalds on a Monday night feeling depressed and alone, and four rediculiously hot gay guys are making plans to go out to one of the gay clubs in the city, meeting more rediculiously hot friends there.

It's not that I necessairliy want to go out with the clubber-boi posse, but they make it all look so easy. No doubt they've got a huge number of personal issues, and they probably are all sleeping with each other's boyfriends...but fuck, they make life look so easy and fun.

I placed my order and paced the floor, wanting desperately to get out of the sight of these guys, and put the evening out of it's misery. Finally my food was ready, I grabbed my bag and headed for the door. But as I started walking, I skidded on the slick tile and slipped right into a table. Thank God I didn't fall over, because I would have died right there in McDonalds. I mean, I was reaching the point of crawling into a corner and crying myself to sleep, until the nice men with butterfly nets came and took me away. I recovered and without looking back stepped back into the frigid night, returning to my empty home, empty couch, and empty bed.

Oh, the humanity (part one)...

My night ended with me leaving McDonalds more depressed than when I went in. No, not because of the massive amounts of calories I'd had bagged up, hell, the reason I was there was to get some comfort food.

The day started promisingly enough, with me enjoying my last hours at home before making the journey back into the city. I even went underwear shopping at another store (sadly I didn't find anything that caught my eye). With a skip in my step, I was on my way to meet Dave, another CraigsList friend who I'd been chatting with lately. He had a free place this afternoon, and welcomed me over for some fun.

When I finally met him, I was relieved at how cute he actually was. It's such a treat to meet someone and not recoil in horror at their appearence, if you had some pre-conceived notions about their looks. It happened to me a few times when I first started chatting with guys online, thankfully I hadn't made any plans to sleep with those ones, so I didn't have to make any bad scenes.

We got to his house, and pulled off our coats. He wandered inside, and I followed him to the stairs. He turned on his heel, leaned back against the door frame, and smiled.

I love the look a guy gives you when it's "time". His whole face changed, eyes penetrating mine, mouth firm but with relaxed lips, the slightest curve of a smile in the corners. Suddenly the boy who was cute and slightly shy a few minutes ago was sending me all sorts of signals. Two seconds later, our lips locked, and he was dragging me into the bedroom.

His hands moved all over my body as we kissed deeply, sliding under my shirt, into my pants, then popping my fly open. When he finally had my pants open, he dropped to his knees and pulled down my (sexy new 2xist blue) briefs (without even getting to appriciate me in them...) and was instantly sucking my cock. I was on cloud nine, and very turned on by the fact thtat he was so into what was going on. His entire attention was on me, and he held nothing back as he bobbed up and down.

By that time, I'd pulled off my shirt, and was completely naked, with him fully clothed. He stopped, pulled off his shirt and pants, and resumed sucking me off. It was pretty great, all in all, and when he stood up I held his naked body and kissed him. I'm starting to realize I'm much more into intimate sex than suck-you-off-and-blow-my-load type sex. We had a pretty good rythem going, between sucking each other and exploring each other's bodies.

Finally, we each blew our loads, and collapsed for a few seconds. I'll never understand why some guys immediately start getting dressed, I personally love to just lay there for a bit and catch my breath, and of course cuddle...sadly Dave seemed less than interested in making out while our cum dried on our bodies.

We went downstairs for a drink, and sat awkwardly at the kitchen table. I'm not really great at making post-sex conversation in this type of situation, so he did most of the talking, with me nodding along and asking a few questions about him. First, I asked if he was gay/bi, because he'd never said before. His answer surprised me a little, simply saying, "I've slept with more girls than guys."

"Ok, so how many guys?"

"Well, you. And one other one."

Ahhh...now things make more sense. As he started to tell me about his first experience, he could never maintain eye contact with me, much less look at me. Not that he was ignoring me, but he just didn't pay me any attention. This is the thing I'm beginning to understand that gay guys dislike about bi guys: once the sex is over, there's no more kissing, cuddling, or interest in the other guy. It's just over, and lets all pretend this didn't happen.

We finished our drinks, and he looked at me. I suggested one of two things, that he could either send me on my way, or that we could go back upstairs and get naked between the sheets again.

He hesitated. "Well...it's getting later, I mean nobody's home for another two hours, but..."

More hesitation. He looked to me, then the fridge, then the clock. "I guess we'd better call it a day."

I sighed inwardly. I felt a little disappointed. And that's what's been on my mind since leaving his place.

I understand the 'rules' of NSA sex, not to expect anything else to come of it, after the fluids are exchanged it's over and you should be on your way. But I can't help from hoping each time that the next guy I hook up with will want me to stick around after we're done, to cuddle, have dinner, watch TV...hang out...get to know each other...I mean I'm not shacking up with 35-year-olds, the guys I've spent time with are my age, so one would think they too might be interested in more than just sex.

So as I made my way home, I got more and more depressed about my situation. I came to the conclusion that I must want a boyfriend, because I don't seem to be getting the fufilment I'm looking for with the guy's I've been with so far. What's bothering me, I don't know (which in itself drives me crazy). But once I hit my doorstep, I just felt awful inside. Nothing seemed to be making any sense. I want to be with someone, but I can't find anyone because I'm not out, but I can get boys online, but they don't want to hold my hand after I've taken their load on my chest, but maybe I'll finally find someone I'm compatible with who wants the same thing I do, but that seems to break the 'rules' of NSA...

Then I called Lisa, because I didn't want to wind up alone for the evening. She told me about her weekend, and then about how much work she has to do for the rest of the week...and then she asked me what was wrong. I told her I didn't even know myself, but hoped we could talk soon about stuff. As I was talking to her, another guy invited me over to his place for the evening...

One of the top ten...

This song has to be one of my top 10 favourites. Ever. And I hope that doesn't change, because I still want it to reduce me to tears 50 years from now. Also a great reason to learn to play the dulcimer...maybe I'll put that on my to-do list.

Conversations over Japanese food...

My stomach was rolling most of the late afternoon, and my brain fluctuated back and forth between excitement and dread. I never felt like vomiting until I was in Lisa’s bedroom, door closed, and we had exhausted all useless chat between us. I sat on the top her bed staring at the white cinderblock wall, while she sat at the bottom, staring at me.

We looked at each other, then looked away, then back at each other.

“So, what’s the big ‘private conversation’ we’re supposed to have?”

“Um…well…I told you not to worry, I mean it’s not too horrible.”

That was the point I felt like I wanted to hurl. I could easily have done so, since she had a plastic garbage can right next to my seat.

“I’ve gotta admit, you’ve got me a little freaked out. What’s up?”

A moments pause. Oh God, I can’t believe this is happening.

“I’m bisexual.” I wanted to say more than just ‘bi’, because I didn’t want her to misunderstand me.

“Oh,” she said, and smiled. “Well, we knew you weren’t straight. (Roommate) and I talked about it a couple times, and we both knew there was no way…”

“Excuse me!?”

“Well, you’re too nice. You connect with people, like you worry about them, and if they’re ok, and how they feel. You’re empathetic towards people.”

“SO! Straight guys can’t be nice guys?” Why I even cared about this is beyond me, but I do harbor the belief that each person is capable of being nice, and it not having an impact on their sexuality.

My entire monologue about how I was bi, have been for a while but never done much about it, that I was the same person, and it didn’t matter who I slept with, all flew out the window. She basically was more than good about the entire situation, since her best friend at home is gay, and didn’t bat an eye the entire time, to the point of annoying me that she was just so unaffected by it.

We talked for well over an hour, about who I’d slept with, who else knew, and the big topic of “what I’m going to do with it now.” I told her all about Jamie, and the few other guys I’ve slept with, and about how I’m still confused and have no idea what my next step is going to be.

She asked me about safety, and made sure that I’d been careful about protection. We talked about HIV and meeting people online, which she referred to as ‘the new village matchmaker’, and made me feel less of a goof about poking around online looking for guys.

In the time, I had some self-realizations about my life too. I realized after talking it out with her, that I have no clue what I’m going to do next, how many people I’m going to come out to, if I’ll get involved in the ‘gay scene’…as usual more questions than answers were provided.

She suggested that I take things slow, which I whole-heartedly agreed with (whatever ‘slow’ means at this point), and not to feel pressured into telling everyone. She assured me that probably all our friends wouldn’t really care about it if it ever came up.

Then we talked about my options, about who I could tell, or not tell. Her suggestion was to get a group of gay friends to hang out with, and keep my gay social circle separate from my straight ones. I told her it was a little hard to make gay friends when everyone thinks you’re straight, but she laughed and said I should try to make some anyway.

After our talk, I felt exhausted but very lucky. We went for Japanese, talked more, and she confided that her and her boyfriend were actually sleeping together (something that we’d never discussed before). By the time we said our goodbyes, I felt even closer to her. It was wonderful that we opened up a new dimension of our friendship.

It’s so hard to say right now what my ‘next step’ will be. I know that I like guys, and that I want that to be part of my life, not something that I deny to myself and from my regular life. Talking about coming out to the world brought up the same mixed emotions as it did with Jamie; a large part of me feel’s good enough to just come out and be done with it, but when I think about changing my FaceBook profile to include ‘Men’ as my interests, I feel like I want to vomit and hide in a broomcloset.

Such a big part of me wants to finally embrace this sexuality thing as part of my life, but the hurdle of coming out to everyone seems to be so huge, I don’t know if I can do it. I don’t even know what I’m going to do lifestyle wise, should I embrace the ‘queer community’ and wave rainbow flags, or just try to meet some nice, down-to-earth boys and start dating.

Not to mention the fact I haven’t experienced a relationship in about a million years, let alone one with a guy. It seems like all the other college-aged bloggers had at least experienced a little bit of a relationship with someone special before coming out. I mean, say I came out on Monday to the world. I would have no gay friends/support to go drinking with, have dinner with, etc. etc. I have nobody except Jamie, who I haven’t even talked to in over a week. Everyone else seemed to have some guys they could instantly befriend when they came out. I don’t, and if I came out on Monday I’d be in the same position I am now with straight people; I don’t have a million friends in a healthy casual friendship circle, and I don’t know where to meet people (especially gay guys).

I’m so glad it went well with Lisa, like I knew it would. I now have someone who knows me, and knows my big secret, and I hope that can be a resource I can use while I try and plan my next move.