Be Bold

I thought having to work on my vacation back home was totally gonna ruin things for me and get in the way but as it turns out it seems to be one of the few things keeping me sane while I’m locked away in this house with no car, slick and icy roads, and friends that all simply didn’t care enough to throw a parade or take days off work for me, it’s fine, I’m not mad.

No, I honestly jest about my friends I get it they have lives and more important things to do than to drop everything to go out to lunch with me or get drinks or get more drinks. I’ve been lucky enough to get into contact with one of my followers on here. Who’s become a good friend (HI ANDREW!) and he’s been keeping me sane while being locked alone in this house like Rapunzel (only with better hair).

With Christmas being less than a week away I’ve never felt less Christmassy ever. I’ve been surprisingly sober this trip and I’m not sure if that’s a life improvement thing or a shitty weather thing but it’s been nice so far. I’ve had a pleasant deep conversation with my dad regarding different sexuality, trans people, and attractions. Which if you knew my dad would probably be surprised to find out that we had a conversation about it and we discussed how I wanted to go to graduate school for a master in Human Sexuality.

But what I want to talk about is how I found it curious when my controller at work told me that she’s only met two people in her life who have been, as she put it, “This is who I am, take it or leave it.” So I guess she’s saying I have self-confidence in being myself? I’ve had multiple people listen to my suggestion of how to handle a situation and tell me they’re not me, they can’t just do that. They also are amazed at my willingness to go out to dinner by myself, move blindly to a different state, and overall just sure in everything I do.

I have never found myself to be a confident person. I will often times form my own opinion and just simply keep it to myself for fear that I’ll sound ridiculous or sound like a terrible person. I’m constantly unsure of my decisions and change my mind at least 10 times before finally settling on something, and I see a therapist twice a month to keep me on track.

I think what people are seeing in me is my serving face. After being a server for 7 years I know how to be likable and look like I know what I’m doing when in reality I don’t remember what the table I was just at asked for. My life is a hot mess filled with all sorts of self-doubts and insecurities but the trick is if you’re going to be weird, be confident about it.

I don’t care what people think about me as long as it’s what I want them to think. I heard that quote somewhere and have pretty much lived my life by it. People perceive me exactly the way I want them to, a white middle class, quiet, gay boy that’s super shy. I’m always the one you least expect to get a DUI, STI, addiction, eating disorder or anything else. I want to come across as a goody-goody and it’s worked for me so far.

Why am I wasting my time confessing this to you? Because I want you all to be cognizant that just because someone portrays themselves a certain way they probably are just as self-conscious and scared as you. The difference is that I don’t like living my life wondering, “What if…” I don’t want to wonder what it’s like dating a guy, I’ll straight up pursue him. I don’t want to end up as some 55-year-old Woody’s patron (a gay bar in Philly) watching the 21 and 22-year-old twinks dance and drool over them because I let life choose the safe path for me where I didn’t get hurt by anyone because I didn’t let them in.

I want to live a life worth talking to people about. I love reacting nonchalantly when I tell people I lived in New Zealand for a year. I want to know that I gave this life my best effort so that someday when I’m in an old folks home sitting in my rocker next to the window I can remember that one time I moved across the country for a boy I loved, or how I ended up on national TV or becoming an English teacher abroad.

I’ll leave you with my favorite quote,
“You’re one of those people who’ve been blessed not only with talent, but with self-awareness. And that means you get to choose what you want to do with your life, instead of life choosing for you. But having that power, the power to choose can be a double-edged sword. Because you can choose wrong.” ~Tommy Wallach.

If nothing else, Fake it until you make it.
Until next time my lovelies.

Have a Merry christmahanakwanzika


He took a haggard breath looking up from his deathbed with complete clarity as the beeping of the machines fell silent around him.

“I’ve made many friends in this life, some of them for a short time, others for a lifetime. I can even remember my first friend from when I was five, but it is you that I’m glad who gets to be my last friend.” 

his grip slowly softens and the light fades out of his eyes as he expels his final breath.

Converting a Straight Guy

I pull up just as the first few snowflakes start to drift down.
“Here” I text.

Moments later a tall slim figure emerges from the house and glides down the driveway. He pops the car door open and gets in. A smile spreads across his face, “Hey man, long time no see. How you been?” his dark brown eyes matching perfectly to his fuzzy bomber hat

I smile, elated that this is finally happening. “I’m doing pretty good man.” Trying to act as straight as possible. We gaze into each other’s eyes for a moment, a sense of longing perhaps, before he breaks eye contact and sputters off into what he’s been up to these last few months.

I do my best to concentrate on the road and his talking while thinking about running my hand up his upper thigh. Ever since I met this guy I’ve wanted to jam my tongue down his throat. He’s nervous, I can tell from the slew of words that have not ceased coming out of his mouth since we broke eye contact.

“So you said you thought you were gay?” I interjected wanting to get to the real reason why we were here, “What makes you think you’re gay?”

“Well it all started when I was at the gym with my buddy, Tim” he paused as if contemplating if he’s really going to tell this story, “And then he like showed me this work out technique and touched my body and…..I don’t know….it just felt, funny”

I instantly go into therapist mode validating that these feelings were indeed real and that he was in an enclosed space with hormones, pheromones, and testosterone floating around in the air. Sexuality is fluid so it’s very normal to be aroused or turned on when you’re around a bunch of sweaty bodies working out.

He turns and looks at me deadpan and says, “I didn’t contact you to talk about this.” An almost hunger in his eye.

Damn, wish I would have known this before I picked him up. I’d have at least brushed my teeth and reapplied deodorant.

“Oh…..kay??? So, uh why did you contact me? You said that you had so many questions and I had all the answers.”

“I want to get physical… with you… and you know…see if I like it.”
God damn it, where were you when I was in high school?
He keeps talking all the way to my house. We get inside and awkwardly sit on the couch. I sit with just my knee touching him. He’s obviously very nervous. He pulls his knees up to his chest and wraps his arms around his legs. I put on some Netflix to try and relieve some of the tension.

I keep trying to get him to talk letting him get it all out in the open and I start caressing his arm and ask if this is alright, he’s hesitant at first but then shakes his head yes fully letting himself enjoy the attention. I lean back on the couch pulling him with me so that he’s the little spoon with my arms around the front of him. He rolls back into the safety of my embrace and looks up at me as we kiss. Nothing passionate, just a simple kiss to test the waters and see how he feels about it.

“This feels amazing,” he says and I smile remembering back to the first time I got to cuddle with a guy and it just feels so right.

After a few moments, I can see his brow furrow.

“I’m sorry,” he says regretfully biting his bottom lip.

“Why?” I ask leaning down and kissing him on his lips again this time more passionately.

“Because you’re gonna hate me.” He looks off to side. “I’m just not looking for a relati-“

I can see the look of guilt on his face from a mile away. “Let me guess,” I interrupt, “there’s some guy you think you might like and you wanted to use me as practice before approaching him?”

He sat quietly confirming my suspicion.

He looked like a puppy from an ASPCA commercial and I can’t help but laugh to myself and say, “Look, you’re not the only one here not looking for a relationship. I happy to help you anyway I can whether that’s answering questions about coming out or whether that’s helping you determine if you’re gay.”

A look of surprise and relief wash over his face as he can’t believe I’m ok with this scenario.

“You’re seriously the coolest,” he says as he hugs me and kisses me again embracing me for just a second longer.

Nothing but some making out and heavy petting happened (Sorry to disappoint) but he was able to figure out that he definitely enjoyed it and decided that he was gay. Not the exact way I imaged helping someone come to terms with their sexuality but at least he was able to figure it out before I did.

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I’m not sure what to call these, but I’m calling them clippings.

“Don’t worry you’re young, you’ll love again.” She tried to console

He looked at her thoughtfully, drying his eyes, considering this.

“Life is full of many different kinds of love, each of them as unique
and different as the person you loved.  Even if we were to get back
together, the love we had is forever gone. Changed. Different. It will
never be the same. I’m not crying because I fear I’ll never love again,
I cry because I’m mourning this very unique and special love we shared that’s forever gone.”

~An excerpt from a book I’ll never write