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Posts Tagged ‘beach’

Brooklyn and I have been having some strangeness since we almost had sex. He has grown distant, become quieter, looked me in the eyes less. Things are off. Things are wrong. We met for a little under 2 hours last Thursday. The weather was beautiful so I drove up to his town to take my dog to the beach and meet him for a little down time. The friend vibe was palpable. It was strange. It wasn’t him.

We spent some time chatting on-line later that night, again, quieter, less verbose and interested. I tried kicking up the naughty flirt, to see how he would react, and he didn’t. Finally he commented that I “need to get laid”. Ouch. that didn’t feel like the previous we should get naked together comments he would pepper our occasional chats with. That felt like,”you should go fuck someone, not me, but someone.”  I was surprised that he would say something like that and even more surprised that it stung like it did.

I spoke with my pal Assoc. Prod/Musician about the situation and asked his advice. Should I write Brooklyn an email calling him out on the cold shoulder action and the sting of his “light-hearted” comment? AP/M and I agreed that I should step back from Brooklyn for a bit and that an email was justified. So, I wrote it up, had AP/M proof read for craziness and after getting the thumbs up, I held my breath and hit send.

The next morning I had an email from Brooklyn, apologizing for hurting my feelings with the comment, telling me that he has been scheduling me in when he doesn’t have time and that I have become inconvenient AND that ever since we almost had sex, which reaffirmed his feelings that he wasn’t ready to be that physical with anyone, he has been uncomfortable around me. Jesus Christ people!  He thinks I want more than him. Grrr Grrr Grrr, Argh Argh Argh

I have told him since the beginning that I never wanted him to turn me into a chore, a to-do list item that he needed to schedule around, a responsibility or a drama. That I was here as I am, to enjoy time together, when we have it. I originally said, “no sex til you are out of that house.” We agreed. He put MY hand DOWN his pants and on HIS cock in the family van the night of my b-day. I was following HIS lead. Who am I to say whether he is ready to be physical? This is his call. He seemed to be making the call by suggesting overnights, or getting naked together, or trips away. Are you kidding me?!

So,, now I have scared 34-year-old boy, back pedaling and hiding his head in the sand and looking for excuses. His email was line after line of excuses.  I responded in line that before he assume how much I am asking of him, how much I need or require, that he ASK me. I put the ball in his court. He needs to decide what the hell he feels for me. I am fine with a casual affair minus the sex. I care deeply for him but I can handle that. I am NOT fine with , ” but we will always be friends”, IF that is what he comes back with. Not now, maybe later, but I can not just suddenly turn a switch on how I feel about him and it would be completely unfair of him, after pursuing me, romancing me, telling me how wonderful and unique and stellar I am, to expect me to ignore the last month and act like we don’t have the connection that we both know we do.

Ok people, seriously, chime in here, cause I am uber annoyed. I told him I needed some space, atleast til Monday but I feel I am going to take more. I hate games, but he needs to remember why he likes me, he needs to feel my absence a bit. So, he can sweat this out a bit. I am not a fucking yo yo. So, what do you all think?  Is there a possibility that his head will come out of his ass? Should I do like the Clash? Should I stay (casually and realistically that this will be a SLOW drawn out process of self discovery for him) or should I go ?

Tuesday posts are web syndicated by www.thenewgay,net

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We agreed on a place and time. Talked several times during the day as I did laundry, showered, changed three times and finally picked up the rental car. He makes me smile. I save his texts for days because they are cute, honest, sincere and without pretense. He recites poetry verses or makes an ass of himself, only I don’t think of him as an ass, so it just endears him more deeply to me. He lets me know that he is thinking of me and that it made him smile and for that he is thankful. Who does that? We talk about wanting men or women, partners, lovers, etc that will bare themselves to us, but then we are turned away by it. The rawness somehow ugly. Brooklyn isn’t ugly though. It’s a calm quiet storm within him, but more about that later.

I text him that I was stuck on the wrong end of a drawbridge and will be there closer to 7.  He texts back that he is leaving his house in 5 and that he wins. I seethed in humor driven competition. Damn him! I am 5 minutes away, perhaps 7. I take a wrong turn and panic, damn, he is going to get there first. I finally find my way and then the parking lots are full. I am pleased however to see that his car is not there. Hmm, perhaps I can still win?! Just as I am trying to back out of the lot a couple approaches their car to leave. SCORE! I park, dig in my purse and pull myself together. I am almost to the entrance when I glance behind me and see him approaching. Ha Ha, I win! He gives me a quick kiss, even though we agreed that discretion in his own town is important. The impending divorce is not public knowledge and his ex just found out he is on a dating site. I don’t know how she could handle that he has met someone on the dating site. Although, women aren’t blind. I am sure that she suspects something, his behavior must be changed a bit.

The bar where we meet is packed. There are no discrete places to sit for a drink and so we decide to go elsewhere. We wander around the neighborhood a bit and end up in a friendly neighborhood pub. At the bar we stroke hands below the surface. We laugh, smirk, talk and stare at each other… still a little more obvious than not BUT hands stay below, where no one can see them. I admire a young girl who walks by, roughly 3 years old. The dad jokes with me that I can have her. I say, well, I don’t live in a little town like this, I live in a bigger city and I have a dog, how is she with dogs? The man then flirts with me a bit, funny that he does so in front of Brooklyn. Ballsy. He asks if Brooklyn is my husband, I laugh and say no. My boyfriend? Friend? Date? I just laugh. He then asks how Brooklyn is doing. As in, is he a good date? I laugh and look at Brooklyn, smile and respond to the ballsy guy,”He’s great. He’s awesome actually.”  The ballsy guy smiles, nods and says goodnight before heading back to his table. We finish up and then start walking over to the theatre for the show. I try to pull him into an alley for a kiss but he realizes he doesn’t have his ID on him and that we might need to run back to the car if they ask for it at will call. They don’t and I tell him that he missed out on a perfectly good kiss because he was over thinking.

We are the youngest people in the audience. The median age appears to be 65.We are relieved when the lights go down, allowing us the freedom to be affectionate without concern. He strokes my hands and wrists with his fingers and we lean into each other. He laughs and whispers in my ear that it is ironic how this is the longest he has seen me go without a smile, and that we are at a comedy show. Neither of us find the comedian’s routine to be that funny. However, he knows his audience and the crowd loves him. We just sit there laughing at each other and the people surrounding us. We are thankful for intermission. I rush down to the bathroom and when I get back to my seat, I cannot find him. I send him a text asking where he is, only to have him texting me back to join him for a drink at the bar on the first level. He flirts with me and keeps calling it our first date. I remind him that we have hung out 4 other times. He smiles and decides that he is going to call every date our first. He then proceeds to set me up for a fake interview for a book he is doing on Brooklyn. My face hurts from smiling.

We head back upstairs to the show, hoping that we have missed enough of the second act to make it bearable. Barely. On our way out we thank the comedian for a fun evening and head outside. As I try to extend my car reservation, it appears someone else booked it close enough to my reservation to give the night a wee  bit of bummer. I extend for as long as I can and decide, sometimes the late fee is worth it. We end up parked at the beach, in February. Standing in the sand, we kiss for a few minutes until my hands and ears go numb. It’s beautiful and in warmer weather, I am so there. We end up in the backseat of the car listening to Shudder to Think and making out. Nothing too dramatic. Hot, but also sweet. Yes, I do at some point maneuver a hand grab so I can have an idea of what I am dealing with. Apparently, much to my happy findings, the Catholic Polish have a thing or two in common with the nice Jewish boys I have known. Now, the backseat of a Scion isn’t all that roomy, let me tell you. But it’s nice. We don’t say much. We often don’t say much to each other. It’s as if we have the close comforting familiarity of old friends. Old friends who happen to be very hot for each other. I told him that I was planning on keeping him. That I ripped the tag off and threw away the receipt. He inquired about what I would do when he breaks, won’t I want to return him then. I laughed and explained that duct tape fixes most breaks.

We spent the remaining few minutes before I had to leave curled up together awkwardly. We just closed our eyes and enjoyed the quiet. The next 40 minutes were a whirlwind. He is roughly 49 minutes from my house , we were ten minutes from the location I map-quested originally, so add-on another 10 minutes. He drove us back in the rental to his car and led me to the highway on ramp. The car needed to be back in a half hour. I am an hour away and have 30 minutes to get there. I call to let them know I will be about 10 minutes late and speed down the highway going close to 90 for most of it. I make it there in a hair under 40 minutes, including a pit stop at my house to drop off my laptop so I am not carrying that home on the street at 2 am asking to be mugged. We text back and forth a few times as I walk home, he had asked to hear from me, to make sure I arrived safely. Knowing how fast I was driving, he was worried. He left me cute messages and then we said our good nights. We talk everyday now. Is this strange?

Our Tuesday posts are now being web syndicated by The New Gay. For more intelligent queer coverage of culture, ideas and events, check out www.thenewgay.net

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So, I finally agreed to a movie and make out night with the 25-year-old. We picked up take-out from a local Whole Foods, I grabbed a tea from a coffee shop and then we headed back to his place. We set about watching Royal Tenenbaums and then a few too many episodes of Spaced on Hulu, which 25 had never seen. he wasn’t even familiar with Simon Pegg. HELLO! Hot Fuzz! Shaun of the Dead! Spaced?!!! I loves me some Simon Pegg.

Anyway, I’m there. I’m on his couch. He’s got the green light .And… nada. It isn’t until the last two episodes of Spaced that he finally decides to try to cuddle. Granted, I am not entirely there. I am a little distracted. I was supposed to be spending a steamy evening with Brooklyn in the backseat of a car on the beach. NO, not THAT steamy. As you may recall,the ex-wife stomped on those plans as soon as we had solidified them. So, here I was, with a plan B. I hate plan B’s because they aren’t fair to the person who ended up in that slot. Yet, there I was, willing to give him the chance he kept asking for and alluding to. He didn’t try to kiss me, he didn’t even pet me in a way that was suggestive of his desire to kiss me. It’s as if he completely froze up at the bat.

On the way to the train he finally gives me a little kiss. Boys, boys, boys. What are we gonna do with these nervous boys? This one is quickly migrating into the friendship sector. Ok, honestly, he probably already is there but I have been trying to give him a couple chances since he has tried for so long to get me to treat him like a man, rather than as a 25-year-old.

The 4-year-old black boy who started flirting with me on the train over to 25-year-old’s place has a better chance of dating me at this point, he had the moves, the guts, the lines… the 4-year-old was smoooth. He sauntered over to me after we made eye contact and sat in the empty seat next to me. He then looked up at me and said, ” Hi”. Simple and direct. I like it. I returned the greeting.  “I’m Marcus”. I smiled and told him my name while shaking his hand. A few seconds later, “so, you havin’ a good night?”. I started laughing, his mother was a few seats down cracking up at him as well. “Why yes Marcus, I am. Are you?” “Yeah, I’m on the Choo-Choo”, he replied.  Can I marry this boy now? He then asks me a few more questions and finally I ask him,”Marcus, are you flirting with me?”  He then looked up with these big brown eyes through huge thick black lashes, smiled shyly and said simply,”yes”. The 4-year-old has it figured out. Perhaps men lose their skills once puberty hits? This 4-year-old has it all figured out though. I’d date him, if I was 30 years younger.

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