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.

What are you hiding under there...

I've desperately fallen in love with semi-sexy underwear.

It wasn't supposed to be like this! I'm a non-sexy-underwear kind of guy! But after checking out some pics somewhere in my Internet travels, I discovered that a) boys look even cuter in designed underwear than the Haynes grey/white versions everyone else wears b) they look comfy as hell and c) my standby grey boxers are boring and unflattering.

With all this in mind, I headed out shopping for a sweater, since it's been so damned cold around here and all my super-winter clothes are tucked away at home. At some point, I passed through The Bay (for my international readers, The Bay is a department store like Sears, only much better. Having never been to a Macy’s before, I can't comment on comparisons to it.)

To get to the men’s clothes, you must walk through the men’s underwear. And with my fledgling underwear obsession still fresh in my mind, I started browsing.

There were all types, the economy models, the sport models, the work models...and the fun models. I was getting a little overwhelmed, since I've worn boxers for a million years and briefs were just so not 'in' during High School, so I didn't end up buying anything. On the way out the door, a mannequin was wearing very sexy 2xist red underwear that immediately caught my eye. I shrugged it off, and headed out.

Friday came and I suffered through another four hours straight of lectures. I'm getting lazier than I should be, hitting the sleep button a little too often...I usually get there on time, but I always stop for coffee on the way, so I have to factor that extra few minutes into my travel time. By Friday, I'm never out the door in time, and always have to get coffee halfway through a lecture, or worse, not at all. (By the way, I love coffee. Just in case you missed that.)

So after class, I gleefully grabbed my bag and headed to The Bay for some shopping. I'd decided the only way to know if I could actually wear/like these underwear was to buy a pair and try them out.

The first thing I noticed arriving in the Men's Undergarments section was that my desired 2xist briefs were 25% off. Ha ha! I'm being sexy and frugal!

The second thing I noticed was the slightly-creepy-rather-gay-old-man who was checking out the 2xist section too...shouldn't that be illegal? I mean, after you hit 45, don't you just wear old plaid boxers?

After reminding myself that I'm a mature person, who understands that all old people are not perverts but simply old and sexually undesirable, I started picking through the booty. I saw lots of the red briefs the mannequin was wearing before, but none of them seemed to be 'interesting' enough. They were just plain red, which is fun, but if I was going to try patterned underwear, then dammit I was buying something with more pizzazz than that.

Next was a pair of briefs, 'no show' briefs I think they call them (honestly, who knew there were more than two kinds of underwear: boxers or briefs?). They were 2 toned blue, with blue and white stripes on the back. I liked them immediately, and decided on taking a pair.

I shifted my gaze to the rows of nondescript boxed briefs. They had simple tags on the top, and trying to figure out what looked like what took forever. A smaller row of boxes sat in the far corner, and I gravitated towards them. 2xist Soy Briefs they were called, and I said what the hell and took one of those too.

Consequently enough, I came home this weekend to visit the frozen wasteland of small-town-bum-fuck-nowhere. It sounds harsh, but I really love my hometown, enough to make all sorts of fun of it. I had stuffed my new purchases in my bag, and pushed them out of my mind as I made the trip to meet my mom at the station.

Upon finally getting home, I headed up to my room to drop off my stuff...and try on my new briefs. I slipped in one leg, then the other, pulled them up to my waist and stared at my nearly naked body and blue-white striped briefs.

"Cute!" I cried out. I don't know what it is, something as functional and boring as underwear, but seeing these patterned, sexy-cut briefs on my (or any other) nearly naked body is just really attractive.

Quickly I pulled on the other Soy pair. They have a beautiful blue main section with a shocking lime green waistband. As soon as I pulled them up, I shivered. They have to be the most comfortable things going. Soft as cashmere, the box said, and as sexy as the other pair.

I changed back into my clothes, shoved the briefs in a drawer, and ignored them until the next day. After wearing them for a full day, I have to say they're damn comfy, feel and look sexy, and I'm ecstatically happy with them. The only strange part is the fact that my balls kept getting randomly itchy throughout the day. I peg it on the fact that they've got some sharp-ish hair on them, which must be rubbing the close-cupping briefs.

My other observation is I need to do some manscaping. Those briefs really show a lot of skin, and since I want to show them off, I've gotta clean up the areas around them.

Honestly, I never thought I'd ever be buying sexy underwear and cleaning up by appearance 'below the belt'. I seem to get progressively more concerned with these things, as I get progressively more active sexually. But why did I never care with women before?

In touch with...

This morning was beautiful. The sun was out (sort of), the air was warm and felt fresh and wonderful on my walk to school. If I didn't know better, I'd swear winter was nearing it's end, and that spring and warmer, sunny days are just around the corner.

I seriously doubt that's the case.

On another note, after checking, I've discovered that I don't actually have my MSN hooked up for my blog account. I've fixed that, so if you want to say hi, add me or e-mail me using frozen.underwear@gmail.com or AIM frozenunderwear.

I'm touched that I've gotten a response for the last two posts I've made. Unfortunately I was on the verge of asking Micifus Phil to add a link to my site, but since he's now offline I guess that won't be happening. I need to generate some traffic! In order to do that, I should probably also do some type of makeover on the site. Anyway, have a good one!

Blindsided...

I'm sitting here bleary-eyed. My gut feels like someone just shoved their fist into it. My heart has sunk so low, so very sad.

Micifus Phil has left us.

One of my two 'blog heros' (the other being Matt at DTB) has decided to stop his blog. I knew this was coming, in a way. His posts have been more and more mundane, more infrequent, for the month of January. He was detaching himself from his blog, and it showed. But I hoped it was just a phase, something that was distracting him, and that he would return to tell us the next chapter in his newly out life. It looks like we're never going to know what happens next.

I'm a little surprised at my reaction, really. I don't know Phil, have never e-mailed him, never IM-ed him...but I picked up his blog during my period of soul searching back in December, and I felt like I connected to him. He's a lot of things I wish I were: part of 'the team' at school, well adapted to universiy life, dare I say popular in his social circles...the all-American college boy with a heart of gold.

In the days where I felt like I had no chance of turning my life around, I would read Micifus and be filled with emotion. Joy at the fact that a closeted boy had found a 'tkbf', and run around the East Coast with him and his friends. Relief when his friends and ulitmately family accepted his sexuality. Sexuality at the sometimes explicit posts detailing his various romps. Jealousy when he seemed to finally be putting all his pieces together, and his fractured life formed a beautiful picture. And the secret wish to be a fly on the wall the time he and Matt slept together.

Really, it's difficult to string all these feelings together about why I'm so upset. I just seem to have developed a very deep respect and admiration for Phil and how he's handeled his last 8 months. I get so frustrated with myself, being older than he is, realizing that I'm nowhere near where I want to be, yet this 18-year-old wippersnapper has finally learned to love himself and pull off the stereotypical college life too.

That all sounds like petty jealousy, and I freely admit I'm jealous of his life (for the most part). But it's out of complete admiration and love.

Back in December, I'd fostered a crazy notion that I could somehow befriend Phil and actually get to meet this amazing human being. I daydreamed about getting to know him online, then going to visit him in Chicago some day, actually getting to see what his life is like.

One of my biggest struggles right now is trying to define what I want my next year of life to be like. I've got my experiences on one hand, and the stereotypical Hollywood-college influence on the other. Phil was an amazing blend of the two: the athlete-friend-of-all who also had self-doubt and a host of other issues he had to deal with. He was a real person, not some reality show, who because of his blog was able to show us his deepest feelings and emotions.

I don't know why I'm so shook up by the fact he's gone. The biggest lessons were things that I had read in the pre-December postings, other than his coming out to his family. But it's like a friend you just don't want to loose touch of after school ends...there are still stories and expereinces to tell that could and would shape how others look at their lives. Sadly, for the time being, that's not going to happen.

Still, I'm going to e-mail him one of these days. Tell him how much his blog meant to me. Attempt to strike up a friendship with a boy I don't even know. Beg him for advice on how he's gotten where he's gotten. Express my deepest thanks for his inspiration.

Goodbye Micifus Phil, take care of yourself, and always know there's people who wouldn't be the same had they not read your words.