One morning I text my local boy to say hi.
We made the usual chit chat that's become more and more flirtatious. I've still got that little flutter in my stomach and a smile that slips onto my face every now and then. In short, I've got a huge crush on this guy.
My phone buzzes and I pick it up, expecting to see another cute message from him. Instead, my heart falls nearly as low as my jaw sags.
"So...I have to be 100% honest with you, since you're a really really nice guy...but I have a bf."
Fuck. Off.
Really?
I mean, really God? I do hope someone out there is getting a laugh at my continual expense.
After a minute or two of hearing ringing in my ears and grasping for something to say, he sends another message. "Please don't hate me"
So I do the gentlemanly thing, and tell him I'm happy for him and hope that we can still work on a friendship since it's nice to actually meet someone new in small-town-bum-fuck-nowhere. Oh and by the way, why didn't you tell me this when I asked you fucking out?
"Well I was going to say something but my bf is a huge asshole, he's a gym nut and really jealous."
Again, lacking in the logic department, this answer seemed as good as any. The subtext was simple: I'm having fun flirting with you because I can't stand my boyfriend but that's all there's ever going to be between us.
Most of the day passes and I'm still walking around harbouring a bit of hurt. Not hurt so much as let down. For whatever reason, I'd finally met someone practically in my backyard. And we have chemistry. And he's crazy cute. Like the non-cynic that I am (when it comes to love, anyway) I thought that maybe this guy would be different, not screwed up by a life in the city, a million one night stands, cheating boyfriends and all the baggage that most people seem to be carrying around. I just hoped he was different.
How wrong I was.
Things continue to get more complicated. Apparently the boyfriend also lives in said town. What a hoot to discover not one, but TWO local gays! Laws of averages dictate they inevitably should be a couple, or at least according to him.
Strangely, the flirting from him continues. He texts nonstop for the rest of the day, saying things that made me blush and wonder just how serious he is with this other guy. Hope springs again as I fantasize about the possibility he's not committed and that maybe we'll have a shot at things.
I visit him one afternoon and arrive just moments before another friend of his. As he's distracted taking a phone call, she leans over and whispers in my ear, "Steal him away from that asshole!"
Jesus, not only does he sound like he hates his boyfriend, the rest of the world apparently does as well.
It continues over the next couple of days, and I start getting a little more uncomfortable with our textual banter. My ethics start up with a vengeance as I realize that his sexual innuendo could actually lead to something. I don't want to be the 'other guy' in the scenario because I respect myself too much to play that part as much as I respect that his boyfriend doesn't deserve being cheated on. And besides, I don't want to be the 'other guy', I want to be the 'guy'.
Just as I'm about to go for coffee with him and inform him of my principals and tell him I won't go beyond just talking to him, he texts me. His boyfriend snooped on his phone and saw all that had been said back and forth.
My drama-alarm goes off and I get the sinking feeling that this whole thing just really isn't worth it.
The boyfriend called him a whore and a slut, they got into a huge fight, it went on forever...and they decided to stay together.
Ok, now I'm officially done. With one last long message telling him that I suppose all we're meant to be is friends, and how I hoped his boyfriend appreciated him, and how nice it must be for him to be so in love with a guy he calls an asshole, I bury any remaining thoughts of what could have been.
We're still texting now and then, and I suppose we're working on the whole friendship thing, but I'm more than a little discouraged about the whole affair. All my hoping that dating outside the city would be relatively drama-free and that the local guys would be genuinely both moral and non-cynical has more or less evaporated. Apparently no matter where you are, the gay baggage that bogs down so many relationships still exists.
After a good weekend of venting to a few friends, I feel better about the whole thing and can pretty much laugh it off. But I'm always going to remember the first guy I almost-dated back home, and what a disaster the whole thing was.
(Stupidly) This doesn't mean I've given up on the idea of a straight-shooting country boy.
3 comments:
Yep, this story sounds familiar. :::Hug:::
:-/ That's rather disappointing. At least the consolation prize is a friend, however hollow that might feel now (it might come in handy later though).
So why does he stay with the asshole? I guess you can be his friend and hope that he dumps the boyfriend, but is it really worth it? He sounds kind of screwed up.
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