Complicate Me
My toffee nut latte tastes kind of like cheese. Weird, and/or gross!
I did pick up a PGN, but I left it at the apartment, so now instead I get to regale any potential readers with sordid tales of how the past 24 hours have gone. Reporting on the happenings of gay Philadelphia (I did see that the main front page article was a Year in Review thingee) will have to just wait another day.
So, the love life has taken another turn for the complicated. Yesterday, Mike came back to Philly for a visit, and we hung out for a few hours. Things I have learned: he gives exceptionally good backrubs; he says some weird things/makes some weird noises (like… romantic panting) when he gets excited; and he is built like an Olympic gymnast, with almost no body hair or body fat. (Also, he had a cockring thing. It wasn’t shocking or anything, but I was just surprised to see it, I guess. It was an unassuming leather number with some metal studs around it; he just didn’t strike me as the type to be into that. Or maybe it was just a fashion statement. But now that I think about it, some of his bedroom demeanor makes more sense if he’s more into kink. Hmm.) We grabbed some dinner afterward, then he headed home and I made my way to New Jersey for a party.
The party was nice, except for the fact that I didn’t really know anyone except the friend I came with and her boyfriend. (A few more friends showed up much later, fortunately.) Throughout the evening, I was texting with this boy who had been Myspacing me for a few days, and he suggested I come over, since the party was a stone’s throw from his place. But I felt bad, because at the same time, one of the partygoers, the only other gay one there, was really nice and friendly to me when everyone else was off doing their own thing. And at the end of the night, I got caught under the mistletoe, one thing led to another, and we ended up trading numbers. What’s really funny is that I think we actually met three or four years ago, out clubbing, and then ran into each other a few times at the diner in Jersey I used to frequent. Strange how people can resurface at random times, get drunk, and make out with you.
Anyway, I didn’t get to Myspace boy’s place till about 1:30 in the morning. We cuddled and watched movies for a few hours until semi-passing out. I’m glad we didn’t hop on the good foot and do the bad thing, though, because it was our first time hanging out, and generally I don’t fuck on the first date. We just kissed more times than is humanly possible throughout the night, and cuddled pretty hardcore. You know how sometimes it just feels like your body is made to fit together with someone else’s? I love nestling with people, and when it’s someone that feels perfectly suited to you in terms of body-shape, sex doesn’t even matter. I can just cuddle with someone like that all night. Then this morning, we slept in till about noon, and eventually I headed back to the city for a much-needed shower. And when I got back, the other guy from Tavern (the depressed one from before) texted me to see if I was around. I still haven’t answered, because I don’t know how much longer I can keep this up.
I feel bad that none of these are Art Student boy. I’m not committed in any way, and I don’t mind testing the waters of several different pools before taking a dip, but I always worry that other people will perceive my interest as more than it is, and interpret it as commitment. I’m still carrying the torch for my Art Student, but he’s gone for two and a half more weeks, and in the meantime, if someone wants to flirt with me… well, I’m not in a relationship yet, am I? Am I being immoral, or amoral, or neither? I can’t help the fact that for a while, life was kind of a romantic dead zone, and now I’m rebounding to the best of my ability. I like to feel wanted and desired, but the problem is that I care too much about other people’s feelings.
And they say Philly isn’t a cauldron of queer romantic chaos just like NYC.
I need another latte. One that’s distinctly less cheese-y.
~~ PQ
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