What's my age again...

I have become ever more aware of a purported 'truth' in the gay community.

Guys who are worth dating, apparently, only date older guys. Young guys in their early 20’s are ‘immature idiots’, and to be avoided in favor of older men who do not exhibit such qualities.

I read recently an instance of a 20-year-old (20! Good lord! Not even 21!) that does not date boys his own age, since they are 'immature and childish'. He insists on dating only those who are older than he is. Period.

What a frightening thought. To think that all my peers (and therefore myself as well) are 'immature and childish' makes dating and finding someone worthwhile even more trying. It seems to me a pretty shitty outlook on the gay community, and reduces the prospects of happily pairing off even more than they already were.

While I agree that some young people are truly vapid, insecure and unlearned, it's quite hypocritical. After all, this is a statement from a 20-year-old, who says he is past dating guys his own age. Yet, theoretically, he should not close the door since there must be other guys the same age as he is who have the same outlook on life, and are not 'immature and childish'. This fear of 20-something 'idiocy and immaturity', while in some people well founded, is condemning of an entire group of people who will one day grow up to be the 'older men'.

I do admit that, after thinking about this for a few days, dating older guys would probably satisfy many of the things that would make for a compatible relationship. While a part of me doesn't want to admit it, I can see being quite comfortable with someone just a little older, or with more mature tastes.

Case in point; last night I went out to dinner with a friend of mine. We don't see a ton of each other, but we get together once a month or so, and usually it involves going out for a great meal and some wine. We talk about all sorts of thing, from the mundane to the worldly and everything in between. Usually we rack up a bit of a bill, but when you're enjoying such good food and good company it is usually forgivable.

We got talking about how the both of us rarely have the opportunity to go out for such meals with people our own age. Of everyone I know, only a handful actually appreciate quality cuisine; for most my age, the magic is lost.

Now, I'm sure there are lots of guys older than I am who still have little appreciation for food, but the chances of finding someone who actually really enjoys fancy dinners would probably be much higher.

The same goes for taste in music, literature, film; the enjoyment of architecture, museums and traveling. Even compared to some friends my age, I have radically different taste. I have a sneaking suspicion that someone older would have more compatible tastes in these areas.

I'm not trying to be a snob here, as I hate pretentious 20-somethings that think they're intellectuals. But, thorough my entire life, I have always been the one with taste that falls just outside the 'mainstream' for the times (that is to say, for the age group). I remember vividly being the one breaking open bottles of red wine at high school parties, much to the horror of my friends. I took a lot of flack for my taste during those few months, until everyone realized how great wine was and it became the 'it' drink. For once, it seems, I was at the head of a new trend.

But, with all of this presumed similarity in taste between a young and an older guy, would we have anything actually in common?

As I try to keep an open mind about the age gap in dating, I can't help but wonder what a 20-year-old would have in common with a 35-year-old, other that the appreciation for a nice '04 Pey La Tour and a mutual disdain for revisionist architecture. While someone younger would still have school and family and summer jobs to worry about, someone older wouldn't have the same issues. A student who attends four hours of class a day cannot relate to a professional working 50 hours a week at a law office. The professional, working on buying his first house, cannot possibly comprehend the student-budget apartment living his boyfriend endures. The two come from such vastly different worlds. Will the mutual appreciation of art keep them together?

I firmly believe in the 'young at heart' aspect of anyone, at any age, so that is not part of this argument. Anyone can be whatever numeric age they are, but still have the energy and passion for life of a 20-year-old (and in many cases, more). But even if two people are of similar outlooks on life, would not the fundamental differences

And how too does this work for older guys who are dating these younger boys? Would they not carry the suspicion, as our 20-year-old example does, that boys of a younger age are not worth dating because of their attitudes and behaviour? Or are they older, and wiser, about the fundamental truths of humanity; that all people are not the same, and that there are wonderful people of every age.

The older guys who are in relationships must go through a lot of crap, from people their own age and from younger people themselves. I've been accused on many instances of being ageist, so it must be quite trying at times for someone older to have to justify his choice in a younger partner.

What about sex? I must admit, I really do enjoy the company of boys my own age over people significantly older than I am. I apparently have a taste for the type you still have to check ID's for to make sure everything's legal, something that I find odd since I don't really fantasize about 'underage sex' or sex with teenagers. Guys who are young-looking apparently scare people other than me. The ‘daddy’ type does not make my stomach flutter and eyes dance.

But back to the sex...my theory is it will be easier now to sleep with 18-22-year-olds than it will be when I'm 30. Is that right? I mean, I want to enjoy the ridiculous passion of youth, but will I be able to do so when I'm older? Or will it be, gasp, easier to pick up that 19-year-old who wants to show me his new tattoo?

And where does that leave the morals of the older crowd? I mean, if the young one is up for it, I guess there's no problem, but I would feel a bit off at first, questioning if dating older is what the guy 'really want's, not some kinky experimentation. Not that I’m implying there is anything wrong with a gap in age, but as someone unaccustomed to it myself, I would be hesitant at first, again, questioning if this is really what both party’s ‘want’.

Then again, there's lots of videos on xTube featuring younger guys and older guys together, claiming the young ones seek out the older, and both parties seem to be enjoying each other immensely.

In the recent debate in Canada over the age of sexual consent, gay and lesbian groups were outraged at the thought of raising the age from 14 to 16. The debate centred on the notion that the gay community is ‘inherent to relationships where large gaps in age exist’. The argument focused on the fact that, as a minority, it is difficult for an openly gay teenager to find sexual partners of their exact age, forcing them to explore people of other ages in an attempt to enter relationships and live the same sort of life their heterosexual peers do.

It seems everywhere that the idea of younger dating older is entrenched in the gay idiom, though admittedly for vastly different reasons. While GLBT groups argue it is out of necessity for younger people to find partners, my 20-year-old example simply does it because of his disdain for his own age group.

But I still fall back to my main argument; if I, at 21, am mature and have tastes of someone older than my age, there must be other 21-year-olds out there that possess the same qualities. I may be unique, but I can't be one-of-a-kind.

I supposed until it actually happens to me, I’ll never really know what it’s like to date someone older than I am by a margin of five years or more. I’ve dated people a year or two older, but nobody 26 or 27.

But the more people I have gone out with, the more I do realize that I am still just a bit ‘different’ than they are. When I think of the longevity of the relationship, sometimes I question if the person I’m with will really gel with me. Sure, there’s the flash of youthful passion, and the reassurance that you’ve a)finally found someone who likes you and b)have a boy to hold. But after a brief stint, I start to have a gnawing question in the back of my mind…is this really going to go anywhere?

That said, dating someone older might not solve that. The question of compatibility is one that crosses every age group, regardless if you have five years or five months in between you. But to harbour the attitude that someone younger, your own age, is simply not worthy of your time in dating is simply scary.

So keep your minds open, be it for an older guy, or a boy your own age; you just may be surprised at what you find.

The unclear answer...

Things are certainly becoming clearer, even though the answers are becoming more difficult to decipher.

Last night I broke down and messaged Danny via Facebook. I figured that was the least threatening route; not an e-mail sent directly at him, or a text message sent to his phone. A nice short, "Hey, is everything OK, haven't seen you in a while," type message, with the obligatory, "if you're free we should do something," thrown on the end.

I didn't hold my breath waiting for a reply. After all, it'd been week of avoidance on his part, why would he send anything back?

The truth was, I'd taken all I could without hearing anything. I was willing to give the benefit of the doubt, to forgive the little fact he didn't even acknowledge my Friday text message. I really needed to know if he was going to reply.

A couple hours went by, and I received a response.

"Hey, just been busy with a lot of stuff...school, work, "travel" plans...what you been up too?"

Um, excuse me? That's it? That's all?

I left it an hour, so as not to look insane, and messaged back with a semi-detailed account of my weekend and week thus far. I again asked if he was free at all this weekend.

And I still haven't gotten a reply.

---

Last night we had a pity party. I called it the "Life is Shit" night for October. We cracked open the wine, ate dinner...and needed desert.

The people in line behind me at the grocery store must have thought I was insane. Lets just say there was too much stuff to go through the express line. But we all needed a fix of chocolate, cookies, brownies...y'know, that stuff. I'm sure it looked pretty bad, but hey, everyone has these nights once in a while.

We sat, watching TV half-heartedly while interrupting the show with random tirades about our respective problems. After I'd shaken my second cosmo of the evening, I sat on the couch and reviewed my fucked up boy problems.

"I just can't do it," I said, looking off into space. "I can't handle this bullshit."

It really started to sink in that things just aren't working, at least not for me. Whereas before I've been the one dumped, I started to feel weird for deciding in my mind that things were over.

Even now, writing this, it seems strange. Nothing bad happened between us, but I'm sick of the no communication and seemingly randomness of our time together. I want more than this, I thought I implied that, both in conversation and in actions, and I haven't gotten the response I wanted.

I guess it's time I just move on.

---

I'm still waiting for that message back. We're past 24 hours now, and it's the weekend tomorrow. Why I even care anymore I don't really understand...I guess the desperate romantic part of me wants to leave the door open for him to fly into my arms and not leave.

And of course, I'm upset not only at him but with myself. How come I just can't get past this one-month mark without things turning to disaster? It's not that I need someone, because nobody does really. But I want someone. And every taste I get of having that someone leaves me wanting for more.

I'm not closing the door on Danny. If he wants to visit, fine by me. I'll still see him if he's going to make the effort to visit. But I'm closing the door on the belief that we'd become a functional couple.

That just looks like it's over.

"I'll have a Coke and a handjob"...

As the car pulled away, I couldn't help but feel just a little embarassed.

After all, I'm 21 now...not exactly the age to be making out in the back seat of a moving car while your boy's straight friends are giggling in the front seat.

Admitedly not my shining, most discreet, classiest moment. But when in Rome...

My two-week wait lasted all of two days. Danny called in the late afternoon, asking me out to dinner with his friends. He had decided, spurr of the moment, to avoid work for the evening, and shorten our wait time to 1-1/2 weeks. I was thrilled, the call literally made my day. Of couse the dinner wasn't bad either.

It turned out to be a double-date of sorts, with me, Danny, his friend Rita and her boyfriend Neil. We all were quite chatty throughout, and it was a different pace than my usual time spent with him. It was flattering and a little nerve-racking to meet the friends, especially when it appears he's been talking about me. Questions were asked nearly immediately about city vs. country life, etc. etc., which is cute considering Danny must have been blabing to them, but a little intimidating too. I'm new to this whole routine.

We had a delicious, long, heavy dinner that I insisted on covering (saying simply "Happy Thanksgiving" to him and stealing the cheque away). Afterwards we did the ever-original swing by the movies. Neil and Rita sat a row in front of us, very diplomatically, while Danny and I assumed our usual spot in the back corner.

As soon as the lights went down, his lips were on mine. The advances got progressively worse; his hands up my shirt, down my pants, in my breifs...

"Uh, are you trying to get me to cum in my underwear?"

"That'd be fun."

While I don't think anyone spied us and our busy hands, and not like I would have cared at the time, I still feel a little twinge of surprise. I don't usually do this. But I don't usually have a boy out on a date, so maybe this is normal after all. Still, not exactly the classiest thing to be doing in the corner of a dark theatre, but in my defence, it was all his idea. He naturally blamed me for turning him on.

Neil was graceous enough to drive me back to my place, which turned into a mini-driving tour of the city. We hit all the fun spots: Church St., Queen St., Front St., though admittedly I saw only half of the sights due to intermittent making out and cuddling in the back seat. I'm very impressed with the straight friend's tolerence of the two gay boys in the back seat. Neither seemed particularily perterbed, and Rita was caught, on more than one occasion, watching us.

Danny kept muttering in my ear about how badly he wanted to come home with me, but his parents are leaving on vacation tomorrow morning and he can't miss saying goodbye. I told him family comes first, and that he needed to be there, no matter how badly I wanted him to spend the night. Of course, we tried to rationalise the stay, but considering we'd get no sleep until tomorrow morning, and he needed to be home for at least 8 a.m., it was the best choice to call it a night.

I did my best thank you to Neil and Rita, hoping to seal the deal and win the friends over. Then I turned to Danny, went in for one last deep kiss, and slid from the car, my hand tracing down his arm until our fingertips seperated. I crossed the street, and tried not to look back. Only 11 days to go...

Me being me, once home I wound up questioning our attraction. While I'm not overly bothered by us, and with my doubts ever-shrinking, I still wondered as I walked in my door if we're simply two horny kids who want each other. Our behaviour in the theatre was far from coy, and it took all his strength not to come upstairs with me tonight. But when we're not locked in each other's arms, we still get on fine, and were capable of enjoying social time with his friends. I just don't want to wake up in a few weeks and find we have nothing but our mutual attraction.

Another pleasant surprise. I'd better be careful, I might start getting used to this...

The 2 week wait...

Well I think I'm off the market.

Not that we cut that much ground today, but we did clear a lot up. About how he hates the phone, and IM, and that he's not seeing anyone else (but still going on Manhunt, though I never got up the nerve to ask why), and the fact that I'm the first boy he's ever been with ("But I've kissed more than one!").

We talked around labels of what we are ("I guess we're going out.") and through the fact he has nothing to be intimidated about ("You've got more experience than me," he said, to which I replied, "Not in this type of relationship.").

I told him how crazy I was about him. He told me how much he likes me, really really, not just sorta-kinda.

I told him how cute he is. He told me that I'm the most gorgeous guy on earth. Even I think that's a bit of a stretch, but I enjoyed hearing it more than once.

"I'd better go, walk me to the station."

"Gee, guess I'd better get some clothes on," I laughed in the semi-darkness.

"Yeah, don't want anyone getting their eye on you, stealing you away," he said.

---

Really, it was interesting to hear my reaction to all this. I mean, he's said all the right things, and I was flattered, but my damn lack of self-confidence kept me from truly enjoying it. Especially the 'gorgeous guy' phrase...I couldn't believe he said it.

I pulled back from our kiss, laughing out loud. "Are you kidding me?" I said. Inside I shrank, warmed by the flattering words but aghast he had said them. So hard for me to hear such high praise. It cannot be true.

Sad, in a way, that I've convinced myself nobody finds me attractive. I didn't even know it was that bad. Sadder still that my knee-jerk reaction is, instead of truly enjoying the statement, pulling back and snorting in disbelief.

---

He wants me to come out to his neck of the woods soon.

"Just a couple people," he said, "just hang out, maybe watch a movie..."

I'm actually really excited by this prospect, because it means this is maybe going somewhere.

---

"Uhh...it's 7. I'm so screwed."

"Well, it won't take you that long to get home," I said, arms wound in his. "What are you going to tell them anyway?"

"That I was lying in bed with the hottest guy I've seen," he said, then he laughed. "Yeah, probably not the best lead in."

---

Two weeks is a long time at this moment. Kinda intimidating to think that we won't see each other until after our crazy-early Thanksgiving, two weekends from now.

After I came, I looked at him quizzically. It was one of those spontaneous sex acts, and unexpected orgasms. "What was that for?"

"Oh, I didn't want you forgetting about me for two weeks."

"Believe me, I'm more worried you're going to forget about me."

He's got work all the time's I'm free, I've got class when he doesn't...plus I'm heading out of town back home next Wednesday, and he's working extra shifts over the holiday. Worst timing ever, though thankfully we've both caught each other's interest enough to be able to wait it out.

---

"What I said before, about the labels. Yeah, I guess we're going out. But it feels a little more serious than that. I don't know what it's called," I said. Somewhere inside I regretted saying it, but I wanted him to know this is moving beyond just dinner and a movie.

"Yeah," he answered.

Over-analysis...

After careful dissection of 'the date', I've got to admit things are no clearer.

Nina balks at a relationship at all, since she's not the committed girl. Laura says that I should just go have fun. Lisa says that everything sounds like a perfect start.

So why am I so worried?

I know why. I'm insecure as all hell, and I'm questioning how charming and enticing he thinks I am. I'm scared that he'll find some other profile online and be off after him, leaving me in the dust.

It's sad, really, that I'm this worked up after one date. Not like we're getting married next week here. It could turn out we're not compatible, or worse, that we're looking for different things.

It could work, and that would be great. I guess the question is, how long before I know it's working?

I don't want to simply 'have fun' only to find out he doesn't want anything serious. Which is hard, considering every time I mention seeing him he seems excited.

Essentially, I want it all. I want something to finally work out. Here I've got what appears to be a great guy, but what do I do next?

Not to mention the utter terror at the fact he's still online, getting hit on by God knows who, chatting to how many other people while he's organizing our lunch date. Of course, this is all complete crap, because theoretically I could (and should) be doing the same thing. But its the insecurity talking; I don't want to loose his interest because of the hundreds of other guys who are hotter, smarter, funnier, better...

My last 'relationship' thingy moved fairly rapidly, as it seemed we were both interested. Not rapidly in the sexual sense, but in the amount of time we spent together. Over the first three days, we had spent at least half of each together. This I am sure is uncommon. There was no cooling off between dates.

The question must be asked, do you get to cuddle on the couch with your dates at this stage? Or am I supposed to be semi-cool, semi-detached and entertain with the city as my living room rather than my apartment. I don't want to ask the 'hard' questions too early, and come off as freakishly clingy, but I can't give the impression that I'm not interested.

Why do I have to question everything I do. Why can't I just go with the flow, and see what develops? Oh, right, because I'm single, and lonely, and grasping at straws.

(This will be my last post on this issue, because I know how droning and boring I will become.)

Saturday night well spent...

"So did you hold hands in the movie?" Nina asked, standing in my doorway.

I had just gotten home, and was all smiles, secretly dying to talk about my night.

"Oh shut up," I laughed, "what was I supposed to do, blow him in the theatre?"

My night had been what I think was a fairly successful first date. I managed to be funny enough to keep him laughing, flirty enough to keep up eye contact, and interested enough to put him at ease.

Not that there was anything no to be interested in with in Danny. Cute without trying hard, friendly, intelligent...that smile...

We met up at 6:30, me with butterflies in my chest. After all, first dates for me at this point in my life aren't just 'ah-fuck-it' fun, since I'm trying to present myself as semi-sane. But from the first moment, it was pretty easy. Conversation flowed. We laughed about school and work, even if we stood out as the only gay couple at this place (note to self, maybe have dinner dates closer to/in the Village).

After dinner, we opted for a movie, but had an hour to kill in between. I suggested Starbucks, and he agreed. But once we got there, I forgot the important question, "Do you drink coffee?"

"Oh, sure," he said, "but usually just Tim Hortons or something."

Does nobody in my life consume as much coffee as me, other than my classmates?

We talked some more, at one of those small-ish tables, and I tried to gauge his reaction to me. Our hands grazed on the table a few times, which left me wondering what he was thinking.

In the movie theatre, we choose the back corner to sit. Alright, I thought, this is cozy, and a little private. But as the movie rolled, nothing really happened. Of course, I don't know the dating rules and queues, so I sat there elbow-to-elbow with him. I was waiting for him to make some move, any move, and finally our knees connected. Hurray, elbow and knee connection. Why am I such a dork?

Eventually our hands touched, and he hovered a bit. Finally after a few moments of that we were holding hands. Then we were wrapped arm in arm, with him running his hand up and down my forearm. We stayed like that for the rest of the movie.

The lights came up and we sat there. I'll admit, for the breif moment I was a little hesitant to be seen so far from the Village holding a boy's hand, but I felt guilty afterwards. It shouldn't matter, and we didn't budge as the theatre cleared.

"So, ready to get out of here?" I asked, smiling at him.

"Uh, lets wait five minutes," he answered. OK, I'll admit, the first kiss in the movie theatre is smaltchzy, but I'm a sucker for that shit. And he's a good kisser, knows how to use his tongue. We got up and held hands all the way out to the street.

Neither of us wanted to go. I offered for him to come back downtown with me, but he broke the news he had work Sunday morning. We wound up in a little bar just down the road, sitting across from each other, holding hands. On the upside, I don't think anyone was pointing and staring, but again I felt that oh-my-god-I'm-holding-a-boy's-hand-in-public rush. But we never stopped, and I realized how very little I cared.

Finally, we were going to head our separate ways. But not before some good-night making out. We wandered for a while, but I found it's incredibly hard to find an unlit corner to kiss boys in. There was an alcove nearby which looked like it had no traffic, so we stopped there and our lips met. He's almost as tall as I am, so it was great height-ratio. It was getting pretty hot, hands grabbing my ass, lips trailing down my neck, hard-ons grinding into each other.

Then, all of a sudden, he pulled back. I wondered what was wrong for a second, then heard heels behind me. Apparently he's not crazy about making out with a boy in this much public. We went back to kissing, but street traffic magically picked up, so we had one last deep kiss and walked towards the subway.

About halfway down the path, he stopped me. "You know, I really don't want to go," he said, spinning me around and kissing me again. We walked five feet, kissed, walked five more feet, and were finally at the tracks. His train was waiting, and he jumped on. My train arrived, and we gazed out our widows at each other, not breaking eye contact until the tunnel wall was in our gaze.

All in all, a damn successful first date.

The runup to...

September, just around the corner.

So much to be said about it. So much to reflect on. So much that still needs to happen.

But none of that at the moment...I have one more frivolous post first.

Flash back to Friday night, sitting in a semi-circle with a bunch of friends from high school, celebrating a birthday. Things are going well, if not a little slowly, but we all end the evening on a good note. I arrive home to an empty house, get naked (because it's just so damn comfortable) and check my messages.

I'm not anal about checking my 'gay sites' messages, because not only am I unable to just randomly meet people when I please, I rarely get messaged. But tonight, my inbox has a number beside it. Mildly interesting.

I check what's there, one of which is a proposition from an older gentleman. Next, I read a small snippit from someone, and am intrigued.

It was just a simple "hey" message, but the profile attached to it was anything but ordinary. It made me laugh out loud, and the picture made me smile. Rosy cheeks, cute lips...witty one-sided banter in the text box. And I'm sold.

So naturally, I message back, not really expecting to hear anything more. Flash forward to late Saturday afternoon, just arriving home from a lateish lunch with people and eager to check my inbox.

What transpires over the next hour, via several intermittent messages, was semi-flirtatious, courteous and intelligent banter. It was fun, and lit that small flicker of hope, leaving me wanting more talk. What was nice is the fact he acknowledges he doesn't want 'just sex'. Really, nowhere is sex mentioned.

Again this afternoon after getting home, I check my inbox to find yet another interesting profile response. Same situation, another guy who specifically does not mention the desire for sex. Responding to me, because I have written the same thing.

But these guys trap you in a corner so unlike the hookup ads. With the just sex searches, it's simply a matter of finding a body you like, who'll do the things you want done to you, and the hard part is over. Not so with the nice guys.

Throughout the messages back-and-forth with the first guy, I can't honestly say what he's looking for, mostly because he didn't himself. It was mentioned that he dropped me a line because of our close ages, thinking that we'd have more in common than with others. I agree, but for what exactly? A friend to have coffee with? Or a date for next Friday night?...

Truly impossible to tell, because the ambiguity of the online written word means that one can be both flirtatious and completely aloof at the same time. Couple that with the anxious, over-analytical mind on the receiving end, and the truth often gets washed away in a torrent of scenarios playing out in the imagination.

Why it can't simply say, "Lets have coffee and discuss this further," is understandable but frustrating. And it makes it difficult to determine when the appropriate moment a flirtatious comment should be made for fear of coming off as the typical oversexed male.

It surprises and delights me to see this increase in interest in me, even though I have changed nothing in my profile for months. Whats more, with it being so close to September, I can hopefully keep this streak of good things coming long enough to perhaps take advantage of it.

Ways of the world...

I'll openly admit that I have the dating skills of a 15-year-old.

That would be the fault of several things...one of which would be my sexuality and being closeted. Almost my entire high school career was spent single, save for the actual girlfriend at age 15, and the short list of failed romances that followed. Even my one mildly successful 'relationship' with Brian was short-lived and not all together instructional.

So with all of this inexperience I don't know 'the rules' of dating. I don't even understand the mentality of the process. To me, my friend's have all fallen for other friends, and relationships grew over time. Very few people picked up phone numbers after a night out and followed through with them. It's all been very high school-esque, nowhere near the glitz of the fateful 'Hollywood meeting' between two people, or the sordid, lust-infused grinding between two bodies on a dance floor.

Though I'm sure some object to the idea, I would like to start dating when I get back to school in September. I'm not rushing out to find the first warm body, but it's something that I genuinely would like to pursue. All around me I see people who's happiness is multiplied by 'having someone', and after having a taste of it what seems like years ago I know that there is so much to life I'm missing. And it's not just sex. It's having someone's arms around you, and the touch and connection you can only get in a 'romantic' relationship.

So I've been occasionally checking out online profiles of people in Toronto, to see what the market is like for guys around my age. What I've noticed is a growing trend of egotistic guys who believe they are a gift to you, and not vice versa.

I understand where this comes from. People don't want to be treated like garbage, and probably having bad past experiences where they were not appreciated as much as they would have wanted, they put up the disclaimers to scare off the users and undesirables.

People build themselves up, they're "amazing, talented, sexy..." etc. As I flipped through a few of them, I would find one that looked attractive and read the profile. By the time I had finished, I was overcome with the feeling that I should be only so lucky to have the pleasure of his company.

Then I realized that it's a two-way street.

These guys, who are demanding such approval before they even meet their date, amaze me. Sure, they may be the most amazing person on earth, but what about the guy that's getting in touch with them? There's a whole second person who deserves as much respect as the person who is demanding it in their profile.

So does everyone enter the dating game with such an attitude? I would think that dating would quickly get narrowed down if people think so highly of themselves and set out parameters for their adoration so early on. Or is this something that people just erect as a smoke screen, something that builds confidence and helps protect them.

And do I need to approach life with the attitude, "Hey, you're lucky you know me, because I'm just that damn good!"

Unreliable (pt. 2)...

Well I can't complain about inconsistancy.

Tonight was the reschedual with David from last night. He'd be all ready to meet me after the concert I went to, and we'd grab a late dinner and so on...

He called me at 8:30, just before the show started, to say hi and check in on me. I then called him back at 10:45 after the show, and didn't get an answer...so I called again when I got near my place at 11...

Finally, as I sat in front of my computer to check if he was online, he phoned. The essay that's due tomorrow morning still isn't finished, he said, and he really wanted to come but he NEEDS to finish this essay by tonight. I wasn't really surprised, after being constantly let down this week I was prepared for him not to be free. I was still really disappointed though...

What makes it worse is that he's such a nice guy. For some reason, I've got this crazy attraction for him (a guy I've never even met yet!). Every time we talk I get the butterflies going on, and I really can't wait to actually get to spend some time with him. He says the right things without being overly polite, was talkative and generally sincere. I want to be mad at him, to tell him forget it, but I'm left just feeling more disappointed than mad.

I think (read: hope) I'm not crazy for being so interested in this guy. I've talked to several guys online, and none of them have gotten the same reaction out of me. So it's not like I'm always falling for fantasies of these guys all the time...it's just him. I can't even believe how illogical I'm being about it; how could I even know if we get along having never actually met yet? But I guess affairs of the heart are all about not making sense.

The new plan, if it holds up until then, is to meet Monday evening, since I'm going to be at home for Easter weekend. He'll come down, we'll do dinner or drinks, and actually get to spend time together. But I'm already prepared for him to say he's not free.

The other impossible situation that I can't get an answer for is what exactly is going to go down when we finally meet. Originally it was a hook-up site that brought us together, then we did the talking thing, and he came off like he wanted to actually not just hook up randomly. That struck me as pretty great. After more talking it seemed like he was really a good guy, interesting, charming, etc etc etc...so I started to question what exactly would happen when we met.

I asked him, as near to blunt as I could be without scaring the crap out of him, if we were going on a date or just having sex. He said he'd never just sleep with someone, he wants to get to know me, and hang out with me. The topic of dating came up, and he said that he doesn't date much, he's very picky. I asked him what picky meant, and he laughed and didn't really give me an answer. So I'm now completely confused, since he was supposed to spend the night tonight I'm assuming we were going to sleep together, but then all this quasi-date stuff too...

Possibilities include the fact he may be waiting to meet before he actually decides if I'm 'dating material', or that he just likes to get to know people before sex, or that he's just really smooth and playing me completely. He made so many references to us maybe/maybe not sleeping together, and how he'd never just have sex and leave...which all plays towards the dating side. Or have I discovered a new type of guy, the one who hooks up but only after having a drink with you first?

April Fools, Oops I Forgot...

I guess it's a sign of maturity when you forget it's April Fools Day.

It never came up last night, or this morning at breakfast. I just realized now that I'm welcoming a new month (hello April!). I also just had a conversation that I hope very much was not a joke.

A couple guys actually messaged me recently on dating site. I don't really know why it goes in bursts like that, but it does. One of the guys who messaged me wasn't even looking for someone in the downtown core, he was looking for people in the suburbs. Somehow we ended up exchanging IM accounts, but I never really thought anything of it.

Maybe that's what makes our conversation even sweeter. I jumped online this evening not really looking to do much of anything, but he messaged me. 2 hours later...we're meeting up on Wednesday night for dinner and drinks. At least, I think so, and I certainly hope so.

It could be (what's that called again?...oh right) hopefulness on my part, but this guy seems pretty cool, and dare I say interested in me? I mean, it was weird. We started talking with more-than-usual coyness (beating around the bush about what we were looking for) and ended up having a really great 2 hour conversation. We're both bi, both interested in relationships but willing to have fun along the way, both at university...ok, so we have a few things in common.

But what really grabbed me was his interest in me. Almost immediately after we started talking we had added each other on Facebook, and to my delight he said he liked my pictures (I hate my pictures on facebook). We actually carried a conversation, giving little bits of ourselves away, actually getting friendlier as we went. Bear in mind, this was all under the impression that we were planning on having a fling. But things started changing.

I don't even know what it was, but it started sounding like we both might be interested in seeing where it goes. I had proposed that he come down at 6 p.m. while my roommate is at work, and we'd have until 8 to do whatever. Then he said the sweetest thing, "OK, but I wanted to maybe have a drink or coffee with you too." Then I proposed we meet up at 6, whatever happens happens, then we go for drinks and dinner afterwards.

Maybe I'm being naive, or too optimistic, or something along those lines, but I have the whole butterflies thing going on. I'm excited to meet him face to face, a little worried that I'm reading too much into things, and actually feeling pretty good right now.

We left the conversation with exchanging numbers, and the plan for Wednesday. He said he'd call me tomorrow night, and he hoped we'd maybe talk online later. I don't know with him...I seem to misjudge people I meet online (remember, I thought Brian was all popular-cool-whatever, and he's practically more boring than I am), but I get the feeling that he's a cool guy. I'm flattered that he want's to spend more time together than a quick roll in bed. And I'm doing something I probably shouldn't be at this time of the year, but I don't want to give up the opportunity.

I'm just hoping it's all not a cruel April Fools joke being played by good-old fate.

Dead people are damned heavy...

Today was my second time being a pallbearer, and the experience was pushed on me much as the first was.

Both times I was called into duty because a)There was pretty much nobody at the funeral and b)Everyone who was there is too old to do it. Not that I minded doing it, or didn't observe the signifigance of traveling with someone to their final resting place...it's just not something I'd like to continually do because everyone else can't do it.

And bloody hell, do they weigh the caskets down? I mean the dearly departed was over 90 years old, I don't think there would be a lot of body mass in there to cause such a weight. But either I'm horribly weak (who, me!?) or I was having an off day, because slugging the casket around the cemetary was a pain in the ass.

At least, I wish it were a pain in the ass (what a transition!). I'm so sex deprived I'm afraid I'll forget how the next time I actually sleep with somebody. I didn't think I was having that much random sex before getting into a relationship, but it was enough to keep me satisfied. Now I'm scratching my itch several times a day, but not getting the same results one feels when there's another person offering a helping hand. And I don't even want to think about summer...

But I did get one nice thing out of today. Some guy messaged me via a dating site I belong to, and made me feel like less of a loser by complimenting how nice an evening with me sounds. I got to message him back today with my e-mail address, but I haven't heard anything back yet.

That's gotta be the biggest disadvantage of online; everything has the potential to be a huge tease. You get all excited when someone messages you, so you message back...and then never hear from them again. In an age where our collective interest lasts 1.3 seconds, it's almost improbable that you'll hear back from someone who messaged you.

In some situations, it's ok, like when they're wanting to hang you by your toenails and jerk you off with a banana peel...probably a good thing to not hear back from those ones...but when it sounds like a sane person who just might be a little bit of fun and not chuck you the next day, you kinda get antsy when you don't hear back.

Ah well...another night wasted attempting to do homework while chatting to my friends online. I'm so looking forward to the time when we don't have any more work, and can finally get back to being students.

Snowy days in March...

I've definately hit a new phase in the 'move on with life' thing.

Not like I was super-invested in my relationship, but it was my first in a very long while and it made me happy to have someone. Not that I 'need someone' or am turning into the person who can't be alone for 5 minutes...but everything's nicer when there's someone around.

Since I got up Sunday morning I've been working on an essay. Thankfully I'm almost finished, I've written the damn thing, now I just have to source it. But I'm majorly distracted, like every good student.

Only my distractions aren't typical 'what's on TV' things...I must say I'm the most down about what happened last week right now that I was then. It's the whole alone-ness, and the lack of sex, and the same old self-doubt that was bothering me before.

As I scrolled the dating sites, looking for guys who might be interested in dating, I realized how scary it is again to go out and find someone. I don't even know what happened those weeks ago when I had lined up like 3 dates with guys...I seemed to be on a roll, everything was looking up, and I had a good time. Things went further, and I wound up with Brian, and I guess I just forgot how being single is scary at times.

I could be looking at it as a blessing. I get to run around and have sex with whomever and enjoy life. (Incidentally, this probably won't be happening). But like I was realizing before, my enjoyment is multiplied when I get the satisfaction of being with someone and snuggling afterwards, not just pulling on clothes and going home alone.

And now I think I'm more scared than ever that I won't be able to replicate the results I had before. I want to know that I'll be able to find someone again, and be as happy as so many others seem to be right now. On the same hand, I have to aknowledge that I'm insane if I start asking guys out right now, with me leaving town in a few weeks. But I'm lonely, and I'll admit it.

All the things I promised myself that I, the rock-steady, stoic, mature 20-year-old that I am, wouldn't let bother me.

Plus this weather is just plain shit. I want spring sunshine, and no more snow. And I've got deadlines that I'm about to burn an ulcer into my stomach over. And life right now is just a pain in the ass.

I think I'm going to do a Starbucks run, then more work...even though I have no drive to do it. But I guess it beats sitting around worrying that I'll never get a date again...

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.