Oh, Lord. This is why I don't have a blog.
When you have a blog, you make a promise to your users that you will
write consistently and well, on a regular basis. These little
mental tortures are sporadic and uneven.
For three years, I have been living on a substitute relationship
with Myles. He was my stuffed boyfriend, my icon in the corner. I
never need feel lonely, living in hope. I should have known we would never be together. I
should have known two and a half years ago, when I realized he didn't
think of our relationship in the same way that I did.
A month ago, Myles called me, piss drunk. He told me he loved me.
He told me I was the only one for him. He had done this many times over
the years. These incidents allowed me to live in hope that things
would change. But this time, I told him I was going to start seriously
looking for a boyfriend. A real, in the same state, can touch,
and hold, and stroke face of boyfriend. I posted an ad on
craigslist, one of the most bland ads I have ever posted. I
received a few responses, and started to talk to one of them.
An Abbreviated Description of the First Date:
Online flirtation. In person meeting. Watching television on the
couch. Furtive questions. Casual brushings of hands against forearms.
Awkward kiss on cheek. More conversation. Cuddling in bed. Clothing
shed. Observation and catalouging of physical differences.
Conspicuous avoidance of touching between. Eye contact.
Fingertips between. Tip of tongue between. Cocoa
butter. Inside. Eye contact. Head banging against wall. Eye contact.
Tongue across tongue. Eye contact. Vulnerability. Shower. Kiss in
doorway.
I have seen him since, but I haven't heard from him since yesterday.
And I am freaking the fuck out. I am the opposite of aloof. I am
waiting for the other shoe to drop. I am a mess.
This doesn't happen to guys like me. I am the one who is pursued. I am the one who is aloof, hard to get.
What the fuck?