My Journey Out

I’m reading my posts of the last few weeks and it reads like some angry young man journal. Bitch, bitch, complain, complain. But I look at the visitor log and wonder just why the hell you come around here each day to read me ranting about something. It’s when I think about you.

Looking back, I’m bordering 600 posts and almost three years into this, I gotta move on. The reality is there have been some very distinct phases of this married guy goes gay story. The (1) self discovery, (2) the brutal home wrecking portion, (3) the whoring around, (4) making peace with the family and (5) settling down. Now perhaps I had an all too brief ‘whoring’ around period, but how long do you have to be a whore before you know the drill? I’m clearly in Phase #5 here.

As I’ve written before Step #1 is hard, Step #2 can consume you forever if you’re not carefully and Step#3 (the whoring around) can become a lifetime, if you let it. Guys – all I can say is hurry and get to Phase #5 as fast as you can, the other Phases have many barbed edges.

The anger I have though is for Toronto Chris. This tiny 130 lb disorganized brown stick, who can’t seem to figure out whether he’s saying hello or good bye to me. Like a wad of chewing gum stuck on your shoe, I feel his presence with each step and I can’t seem to simply scrap it away. He called tonight, at his auntie’s house in middle of who cares England, curled up, his tail twitching,  to say ‘good night’. He’s sweet and syrupy and you know what, he’s the real deal. He can’t start or end his day without me.

But I/we/us/them/the universe has created a situation that is a labyrinth for our mutual relationship and I simply don’t know what to do. This is no longer a ‘coming out blog for gay married men’ this is a what the hell I am going to do with my life story and the good news, I hopefully appeal to a bigger audience.

I know that the issues I face may be trivial compared to real situations in your own life and hope that in some misguided way that my comical musings, rantings and uber-opinions on virtually everything help you in some warped way.

It’s 3:30 a.m London time. and TC is drunk (call me surprised), sitting in front of the London Eye (another astonisher), trying to roller blade home (an amazing feat) and bitching it me (what else). He’s been at G.A.Y. Late which (I know this is gonna be a shocker), is a gay late night club full of prancing boys. He’s bitching because 3 young guys offered to “take him home”, one a Brazilian and TC didn’t take kindly to my comment that even I’d have had to give that some serious thought. He continues all he wants is this old man. He’s complaining how I’ve “ruined him”.

Today, TC’s back on the train heading to his aunts and talking about his former roommate and boyfriend. He is hitting 30 now and TC is seeing Steven in a new light. Steven has had a series of meaningless relationships (mostly sexually driven, the “I’ll pop by on Saturday evening” for some fun), TC realizing that Steven really has never had an intimate relationship and worries more that he never well. Steven has got bitter, bitter about his life and his prospect. Worse, Steven has started  throwing TC some double edged comments and advice.  saw this in my early flame, William, passive aggressive behaviour.  TC has lots of issues, but emotionally he’s got a hold of himself.

We are all mis-prints from the printing press of life and I’ve yet to find the perfect person. The reality is I’m simply looking for someone to match up against my own ragged edges.

I am gay. I want nothing but a series of meaningless hook-ups with hot boys. I plan on dying old and alone.

Words you probably would never hear any gay guy utter, but often that’s the life they seem to lead. I’m officially snowed in and more is coming, so I’m on Craigslist trolling the M4M section. OH — don’t tell me you haven’t looked at the postings like you’re some angel from above!

As a marketer, I’d love to download a weeks worth and analytically process the text to figure out the posting patterns. My guess is CL is the ultimate in efficient market theory. You post exactly what you want and in theory those who meet your criteria respond.

Unfortunately many of the postings sound like someone is ordering a new car. Must be so high, so big a dick, very narrow age range, into this, but not into that. And then there are the scorned ones, “no face pic, no reply”, “no picture collectors”. And of course, the professional CL poster, his text carefully polished from years of daily postings, “this is what I want”, “this is what you get” and here’s what you have to do. Finally, the prime reason I lock my door, are the twisted ones. I particularly enjoyed some guy who apparently is running a glory hole from his apartment.

Most pictures are body shots, some of purely cock photos (OMG you have a beautiful dick, I want to keep you forever) and the big bottoms, well, you figure it out.

The pros and those who want to appear more hip litter their posting with all kinds of short codes, DDF, HWP, clean (which has me generally worried), 420 friendly, PNP and other assorted letters and numbers which had me googling to figure out what it meant.

But in this huge mix come the seldom post, someone, obviously shy, no picture, simply saying what they think they’re a nice person and looking for someone nice as well. You wonder whether this person has exhausted all other efforts to find what they want and CL is a last resource, or they’re broad spectrum marketing themselves, covering all the bases.

People think marketing is some sort of black art. The reality is you simply try things and if they work, you do them so more. If they don’t work, well – you stop doing it. Not complicated.

If you’re out trying to meet people, you have to give all avenues a whirl, be open and who knows some random encounter might lead to you meeting that someone special.

I’m hunkered down for the night already (it’s only 7 p.m.). Steak, salad, glass of red wine. Exhausted from drinks with a biz colleague last night, will read I think for a bit. Snow falling outside. My bed is looking sweet.

TC is calling from London, it’s just past midnight and he can call for FREE now. It’s short. He’s semi-drunk yelling at me about some boy he’s looking at that would be “perfect for me” and that he can’t trust me and just, well, that’s it. He hangs up. OK, I’m just hoping I didn’t over cook my NY Strip.

A few minutes later, I’m about to sit down to eat,  my wife is calling. All pissed off. A major snowstorm, her and the kids left to dig out the driveway and outside equipment. She’s worried the roof will cave in. She bitches on that she hopes I’m happy in my bachelor pad, no responsibilities and wants to change roles. She hangs up as well. OK, now I’m worried my food is cold.

There are simply days you can’t win for losing. I’m married twice or so it would seem. Two emotional women as it turns out. I’m going to bed. Sweet dreams.

Arggh. It’s snowing and supposed to get worse. I’ve been working from home today and may not be able to leave. Lovely.

But it’s sunny and almost warm in London. Toronto Chris giving me a Skype video tour. You can see the London Eye in this photo. He’s not a happy pup. Call me surprised but he postponed the start of his training (originally scheduled for the 15th). Why did he do this? He professes he needs to think some more.

The reality, though, is he wants something to happen that won’t leave him with a decision to make. The cruise company could get sick of his crap and just say “no, thanks for playing”. I could go “off reservation” and whore it up and hurt his tender young feelings and his direction would be clear. But I ain’t gonna make it that easy.

I guess that’s why that say something is a  “hard” decision, because it’s hard. It’s not patently obvious what needs to be done and worse, the consequences of the loser in the decision are also quite difficult. We don’t often get faced with “hard” decisions but we all have our own method for dealing with them. TC’s mode is simply never to have to face one down.

You could say it’s a question of maturity, and you’d be right. But all of us hate to face these things and just as often we postpone what we know is the inevitable. The courage to make the call comes from within and no friend, advisor or loved one can tell or steer you on what to do.

I may and I use the word MAY as tentatively as I can have to go to Paris next week for a quickie. TC immediately was prancing around the room just plain gidy. I’m happy when he’s happy. But it’s just tenative, I haven’t been to Europe in a while. Paris in February. Great.