Resolution

Another week has gone by. Guess I’m still depressed – to say the least. Nothing a bit of alcohol can’t fix; or can it? Guess it doesn’t work like that…

At least I set the record with Zora. She thought I left cause of her. My friends were quick to console me, which was obviously good, even if I kind of felt the need to be by myself a bit. So I get that I kind of made a big mess of things. Apparently Qu was really upset about my leaving. Who would’ve thought? This means I clearly messed it up big time. And I suppose now it’s time to mend it.

I have to tell my version too. And then they all come up with a plan to mend the whole thing. Phase one concerns me. Apparently I don’t take care of myself anymore, which I do not find true at all. I’m not any different than I was four years. Well, I’m definitely thinner. And maybe I changed my attitude a bit – yeah, I’m meaner. Or, I learned to be mean is more like it. But that’s just cause of all the shit I had to put up with. Instead of getting really furious, I just started making fun of everything; it’s easier this way and it does keep you from going crazy. Cynicism is a great protection form getting yourself burnt – “this is what we’ll say”.

Eventually I got my back my good mood; at least on the surface. Still, when I’m alone, he always comes back to haunt me. Eventually I will have to talk to him, that is, we’ll have to talk about all the things we never talked about. Just have to get it all out in the open; the outcome is not really important anymore. I just want him to know. I know we probably can’t have anything – I just want to hear him say he’d want it too. I want him to love me back. Period. That’s all.

Qu didn’t answer my calls. I guess that was to be expected. Says he doesn’t think there’s anything left after this. Thing is, there is. You just have to listen to it. You know, I never cried over men. Ever. Cause there’s plenty of fish in the sea. I’m a bit ashamed to say I never really cared much about them – they were more like a tool I used. All except one – the only one I saw myself loving. The only one who actually meant something. To this day I don’t really know why. I guess that’s probably why I never knew how to act around him.

The past is the past. And no one from my past is present today in my life. Except for him. That’s got to mean something, doesn’t it? Zora said I’m kind of living in the past, that maybe I should move on. And I guess they’re all right. Nonetheless, I’m willing to give this as many shots as it takes, until we get it right.

Guess for now I’ll have to try and mend it with him. In the end, I don’t want anything anymore. I just want him to know how I feel about him; then he can do what he will with that. Maybe that would bring resolution. If we can’t be lovers anymore (were we ever?), we should at least be friends. And I so hate that line. But hey, it’s different this time.

The exam went brilliantly – I aced it. And that served to boost up my confidence a bit. Everything seemed better after that. I guess it’s life’s way of telling me everything’s going to be all right for me. That’s when I realized it was all going to happen – if it won’t be him, it will be someone else. But I wanted it to be him. And that won’t be easy to get over. I tried a little diversion… guess it was good for what it was. But it didn’t fix anything. I guess nothing can fix it just like that.

I always say everything happens for a reason. You have to learn your lesson. And it will keep on repeating itself until you learn it well. We don’t always know what’s right for us. But still, we do get exactly what we need, exactly when we need it.

So maybe this was supposed to play out like this. And resolution will come in its own time…

Redemption

I’m losing it. I’m losing control over my life. This reminds me of the time I gave up sex, dating, and men for a whole year; and it reminds me exactly why I did it. I’m going off balance… and I need to get my balance back. Today, for the first time in my life, I’m ashamed; it’s the first time ever. Promiscuity… a picture from one of Oscar Wilde’s books. I’m one of the noblemen, four hundred years ago, that fooled around with the servants. Only I feel bad about it, my conscience won’t let me sleep tonight, I know it.Today I hooked up with a 20-something guy; he wants to meet. I think I spoke to him some days ago… actually he wanted to hook up the, but I said no. Apparently I had more reason then. This time I go along with it, and I meet him. As it always happens with these hook ups, I’m expecting another big fiasco to add to the never-ending list.So, I finally meet the bastard. Scrawny little one… way shorter than me… kind of skinny… totally unattractive – I would never even consider him if I saw him walking by. So we go into this park… sit around for a bit, smoke a couple of cigarettes. He gets me talking; what’s my story? I lie obviously; not all lies, but still – I can’t speak the truth to someone like him.I’m really fucked up. Hate me, call me fascist, call me whatever you will. I believe in social classes – and I believe they don’t mix. There are just too many boundaries to even consider the thought. Not even my closest friends get me on this – but I’m high class. That’s how it is – I didn’t choose it. Come to think of it, it’s just like being gay – you don’t get to choose it, it just is. It’s just how I grew up. And it’s my own accomplishment that despite all that I’m just normal; I act normal – I’m just like the other kids. I’ll mingle with anyone, I’ll talk to anyone; hey, I’ll even have sex with anyone. But they will never enter my life – unless I find them at my cultural/social level. Don’t get me wrong. I grew up in the country… so I had a pretty simple life. But a prince’s life nonetheless… privileged – that would be the best word. And I’m not talking about money – I never even considered money, although I never missed them; I’m talking about education, about culture, about morals. Of course, being a homosexual man first of all, I’ve had to adapt everything to my personal experience.

Back to the story… Eventually he decides I’m safe, I guess. And we start walking again… and eventually get to an apartment building. We go in, nothing wrong. We get into the elevator, the elevator starts going up – nothing wrong. At one point he stops the elevator and starts kissing me – nothing wrong till here, it’s happened before. The kissing is starting to last an awful long time… and I’m starting to get some questions in my head. Eventually he unbuttons my pants, and takes it out; takes out his as well. Starts jacking me off, I do the same. I’m impressed; but not in a good way. Still, I go along with it; can’t figure out why, not yet. This lasts for a while… I’m aroused – naturally; he’s not a physical freak, so I don’t really have a problem with him touching me. He gets down sucking it… I’m obviously even more aroused; he’s even good at sucking it. I feel obligated to respond – I do it for a couple of moments. Not longer, I can’t. By this time the disgust has reached a climax. The whole thing lasted about 20 minutes I think – I sucked his dick for about two minutes, in total; I couldn’t do more.

At one point he sticks his dick between my legs. Short as he is… it’s just right to tickle me in just the right spot; so I show a grin of pleasure. So the damn bastard thinks I want him to fuck me. Right! Like I’m going to let so scrawny punk, that I just met, fuck me in a dirty elevator?!? A bit later… my conscience is almost getting the best of me. I really want to get this over with it and get the fuck out of there. He turns around hinting me he wants me to fuck him. “You crazy? Without a condom? Get the fuck out?”. “You didn’t bring a condom?” I think to myself “Right! Like I knew I was going to have sex in an elevator?!?”. Well, eventually the whole thing comes to an end, and not a moment too soon. I don’t think I would have handled any more.

We manage to sneak out of the building and he walks me to the subway. Naturally, on the way, he asks what I think about it, about him, who the hell knows what he meant. All I can say is “it was very interesting”. Thank god the subway is near and I lose him quickly. Finally alone… the psychosis rears its ugly head all over again. I feel his smell on my skin, I feel myself smelling like dick, like sex, like something dirty. I rush home; thank god I’m alone; jump into the shower and stand under the water.

Let the water wash away all my sins, all the bad memories, all my mistakes. If I wasn’t so strong and well adjusted, I would have cried. I wanted to cry; I want to cry. I want to roll up in the tub, under the shower, and cry. Instead I call up my best friend – and tell her everything. She’s like… “Big deal, you went to get your dick sucked in an elevator. What’s your problem?” And she’s right; technically it’s true – that’s exactly what I did.

Still I can’t help but feel dirty, think less of myself. That is not who I am – it’s what I told my friend. It was a mistake, and the worst part is that I don’t know why I went along with it. Do I have a problem? An issue? I once read a quote on homosexuality that said something about how two men having sex in a dark alley in the middle of the night is about affirming their masculinity or something like that. Let me tell you I felt no such thing.

So… the conclusion? My god, I really don’t know what to say on this one. It’s just made me realize. I want love. It might sound corny, old-fashioned, and melodramatic even. But I want it, it doesn’t matter. I want to tell him I love him, I want just one good person; and he’ll be enough. Also, in other words… I will never let anyone fuck me again. Not that I’ve let many people so far. But from now on… no more – you’ll have to love before you fuck me. And most important, I’ll have to love you.

So redemption. Forgive all my mistakes, let the water run over me and wash away all the wrongs; and send someone to make right what once went wrong, and make it all better all over again. Give me redemption now, won’t you?