What is sexiness?

What is it that makes people sexy? I know what I like. Generally slimmer guys, bookish types... yes, I could do nasty things to the Hot Gay Nerd. Or even a Hot Straight One. I wouldn’t say Fella is nerdy, not t all, but he fits the type generally well. Somewhat ironic that Hogzilla’s Goldicocks is a virtual mirror image. Slim, musical, personable, family oriented vs “athletic”, scientific, introverted, distant.

One of the things about coming out was the desire to explore what I wanted from a man, relationship, etc – rather than frustratedly fantasising about cock (and occasionally holding my nose and indulging myself). After all coming out was precipitated by the start and abrupt end of my first proper relationship. Who and what was I looking for?

Desirability is a combination of things, isn’t it? Looks, dress, income, lifestyle, social graces, sexual behaviour, communication style... comment not, gentle reader, on how easy it was for me to get into a relationship but how difficult it was to sustain it. No, that’s not for today!
I suppose the clearest way of setting out what I’m thinking is to reflect on the three relatively long relationships I have been in over the last few years.

Darren, International and Fella are all remarkably different, and my thinking or feelings for them were and are different too. I don’t feel for Fella more strongly what I felt for International; I feel other things – better things.

For Darren, well I was in thrall. He was the first person I was with and really I was mostly pathetically grateful. I look back on that with a certain measure of world-weary embarrassment. Adolescent infatuation, blind to reality – just about ten or more years too late! Still, it was a necessary step – I thought he was delightful then but now I couldn’t honestly say that he is sexy to me. A bit muscle bound for my now more mature tastes. Good but not exceptional as a lover. Apart from being my first relationship, there is little remarkable about him.

International, now he was and remains a different story. Gorgeous, charming, incredibly sexy. When I was with him the mere thought of him, his body, being with him filled me with passion. The kind of sexiness you ascribe to being with someone who definitely isn’t good for you. Breaking it off with him was sad but not heart breaking – the connection there was largely physical. He gets in touch from time to time, but without the physical connection there is not much there... with him there was and remains a real physical attraction. But that, sadly, was all.

And what about Fella? He is beautiful, and kind, and loving, and generous. Every aspect of our relationship has its positive points to help reinforce our bond. Of course there are the down sides; that’s a relationship involving two imperfect human beings. His physical attributes are balanced by other parts of who he is. Perhaps his sexiest aspect is that he makes me happy.

I suppose it isn’t really fair – possibly even callous – to compare them in this way. I suppose sexiness is defined in different ways for different people at different times. But overall, it’s safe to say, in terms of desirability what I have now is by far the best!

Roasting

I genuinely had nice weekend this weekend. A coupley weekend of niceness it was.

On Friday my manager had her leaving drinks from work. I bought her a nice present – a very expensive pen, if you please, in a gorgeous presentation box – on behalf of us all, and some champagne. I owe her a lot; I’ve been lucky with managers these last few years [ahem] and my recent elevation is as much due to them as any talents I have brought to bear on the matter.

Anyway, après les drinques I met Fella at the Royal College and there were more drinks; the staff had had their Christmas party and the entire building was a-swinging. We left about 10:00 and tried to head home. Sadly, the gods of snow had other plans. Our trains were delayed! Well, I was unhappy about this and Fella impatient with my attitude so we ended up having a row. Darn. Still, we couldn’t have a proper humdinger as that would have involved parting ways and he would have walked off into a blizzard and been eaten by wolves or chavs or something. And I would have spent the weekend being bored.

So instead we had a heart-to-heart. A proper one. It was good in many ways. I think we both agreed we could talk about things. Properly. Without me descending into an orgy of self-questioning misery, if such a thing is possible.

So, Strumpetville being Happy Holiday Fun Town, we continued our merry weekend of fun with a house party on Saturday at which we hardly needed the emergency services at all. And on Sunday, as a reward, I did Fella a lovely roast dinner with real German potato dumplings that went down a treat.

And then we relaxed all afternoon – he slept and slept! And watched Soapdish to round off the evening. It’s a good film; Fella loves it.

And then we slept

Yeah, that was a nice weekend. Now I miss him. I was very sad to part with him when it was work time on Monday. But that time together was oh so nice...

I’ll help myself get over it tonight by piling all the pillows into one head, sleeping right in the middle of the bed, and getting up when it suits me! So goodnight gentle reader; more from me tomorrow.

Compass

On Wednesday Fella and I had our third date. We saw Star Trek (which was OK) and went for a few drinks before heading back to my place. Arriving just after midnight there was some awkwardness when Fella and The Gardener met in the hallway but after some brief introductions Fella and I disappeared upstairs and by various manner of means ‘=’ made us very late for work the next day.

So all rather lovely and wonderful at the moment. Plain sailing on smooth seas. I find myself very comfortable with him; I’m not used to sleeping while holding someone’s hand… with him it doesn’t bother me. Ironically Fella is not my type in any real way: artistic; extroverted; younger; etc. But then what I like goes deeper. I admire his work ethic. I admire his emotional maturity; I think most people would guess I am the younger of us two! I am also quite taken with how his extroversion is a façade protecting a very shy and thoughtful man.

So here we are, and I’m in pretty much in the same place I was before; I don’t know if he ‘likes’ me - although evidence to date would suggest he does. Does he sees me as someone he could have a Relationship with? I’m itching to know!!

On Friday I came as close as I dare to actually asking by emailing him to say that though it has only been three dates I am glad to have met him and whilst I would not presume he would wish to stay over *ahem* I invited him for dinner in the coming week; which he accepted . Hurrah!

I don’t have the experience or emotional maturity to work him/this/it out, that’s the problem. He referred to me on Wednesday as ‘the other half’ which pleased me enormously; and he’s very loving and attentive when we are alone. But it remains the case that day-to-day his interest is inversely proportionate to mine. Ignoring him draws him out; pursuing him leads to dismissal.

That, however, I put down to nothing more sinister than a wish to take things slowly, and I remain determined to do the same; let things develop at their own pace. So I am working hard to ensure I don’t get infatuated or say/do something silly to ruin it all. It’s an intriguing dynamic and I’ve never been in a similar emotional, sexual or interpersonal paradigm before [Frumpella uses big words today]. Quite the tightrope to walk when one is a one-man-idiot. What I’m thinking of now is how to push things to the next level by doing romantic things to subtly drive matters in the direction I would prefer (and hopefully he too).

I have been asked out on dates by others and I probably will meet them; it’s been less than a month since Fella and I met, three dates and a bit of fun don’t exclusivity make. Yet. Nevertheless, I will admit I’ve gone off sex with random guys for the time being. It’s quite a different sea I’m adrift on this time, gentle reader. I just need to define a heading.

The turtle moves

OK gentle reader. So Fella is a bit irritating!

I have a number of virtues; unlovable, every one. And patience is not yet among them. The issue at hand is that while he and I are in constant touch - emails and texts and phone calls back and forth - there is a trend I have noticed.

I’m not student of the treat ‘em mean and keep ‘em keen philosophy; but the thing with Fella is the nicer I am to him, the ‘worse’ he responds, and vice versa. For example, if I pay him a compliment or say I enjoy his company he changes the subject or ignores me. On the other hand if I leave him be for even a few hours he’s all over me.

He’s cancelled the Girls Aloud concert, but was at pains to emphasise he wasn’t trying to stop seeing me – it was because he made a mistake with tickets and in fact he wants to take me out to do something “amazing and lovely” to make up for it. Fair enough; but when I was totally understanding about it the tune changed and…

I have discovered Fella was seeing someone, and they had broken up quite recently. No earlier than March, in fact. Having been Rebound Boy before, it rings a little alarm bell. I suspect that might be behind these attempts to keep close yet distant. But then, how could I tell? He should be asking out someone with more relationship experience. I’m absolutely the last gayer to be involved in that kind of game!

Last night he and I went out to meet some of his friends. A lecture at the Hunterian Museum; dinner; drinks. I wowed them with my wit and charm [LOL], as Fella cheerfully acknowledges. And he’s clearly told them all about me, which is great; I think they are keen to see him paired off with someone. So a plus in that column then…

It is A’s birthday on Monday so I want to at least go for the evening drinks and celebrate; I have invited Fella as my double plus-one. Who knows? It might be great. It might not happen at all.

I’m minded not to let things progress. End them now, and that will be that. Confusion and discord…

Ah, ‘tis early days: at the very least I’m going to leave him be and he can chase me for a while. This would deal nicely with my angst, lack of experience in this area, and mild annoyance; if I try to push him I’ll only make a mistake. And in the meantime, I can get on with things and enjoy myself. And perhaps learn a thing or two.

Not just the actions that matter; it’s also the person. And with the right person, well, all can be forgiven…

Daydream

One thing, whatever happens, the guy I’m meeting on Saturday deserves is my thanks for making meeting guys pleasurable again. This year my attitude has moved from genuinely enjoying the experience of meeting new people, whatever happens, and hoping for the best, to a sort of [self fulfilling?] resignation that it wouldn’t work out. One of the many reasons I decided, while still open to Mr Right, to give that ole’ dating business a rest for a while.

The thing is I am getting on really, really well with this one. Nothing sexual, or at least overtly, in our messages. He’s just a real charmer; though he has a tendency to boast about how pert his bum is, how flat his tum is…

Perhaps even then he’s done me a favour, because instead of being angsty about how I look, I’ve been compelled to simply say he’ll just have to take me as he finds me.

Yes, I’ve begun to really like him and keep having to give myself a reality check: we haven’t met yet! Of course we’re both realistic enough to candidly acknowledge our meeting might well be a deal breaker. I really just really hope it isn’t.

His friends approve of me – after he shared my pics and, it turns out, my emails… one of them has even bought me a ticket to a show they’re all going to see next Wednesday. Now, isn’t that counting your chucks?! He has told me I’m his perfect guy, and he feels like we’re on our fifth date already. I’ve told him he’s sweet, and lovely, and charming, and kind; and becoming very special to me.

My friends like him to, of course – but then, what’s not to like?

I’ll let you into a little secret too – the amount of money I’ve spent on skincare products in the last week… I’m sitting here in a face mask even now! OK, I’m a gayer… but surely there are limits???

Me being me, of course, I probably nearly ruined it by explaining he’s making me nervous about meeting him with all his boasts about his body. Indeed, tonight (he tells me) he’s engaged in a hefty bout of manscaping… Now I’m determined to meet him head on, confidence for confidence, fire for fire. I want to play it a bit cooler – not be the anxious, infatuated one for a change. Walk softly and carry a big stick (oo-er)?

Hence my renewed blogging vigour. You must bear the brunt of it, as always, gentle reader. I just need to vent… I like this one. What a silly fairy Frumpella is.

Expectation

Now, you may recall, gentle reader, I recently said I was done dating. And this, broadly, holds true. However, recent events have blurred the line a little…

Let me explain.

I recently joined a site called Tom Dick and Sally. It offered a free trial so I gave it a try; but then thought no further of it. Until, that is, I was notified someone had sent me a message.

I replied; he replied back… we got chatting… anyway, it seems on Friday he won tickets to see Girls Aloud from a private box at the O2, near to which I live, and he invited me to join him.

He will have friends there too of course; so it’s a slightly unusual first meeting. Different enough for me to do a Rule 5 override and say yes! Dates, after all, haven’t been my strong suit recently but why not? I was really pleased and flattered that he had thought of me.

Since then we’ve moved from messaging via the site to emails and phone calls etc. He is, I shall confess, quite charming. I am disarmed when he writes to me, often knowing not how to reply. Anyway, after a while we exchanged pictures. Of course, he is insanely good looking. I mean just gorgeous. Much to the irritation of my friends I had to check, after he had seen my reciprocal images, that he was still keen to meet. But he is. He tells me his colleagues think I’m most handsome, and of course everyone at my work says he is H-O-T.

In fact he works as a concert manager at a large church in central London where they put on lunchtime and evening concerts; and he is working Saturday night so he suggested that he gets me a ticket to attend that and then we go out for a drink in Soho afterward.

OK. Saturday A bit sooner than I anticipated but then again why not? Still a few days’ notice, even if it is uncomfortably datesque.

Then of course, today he invites me to tonight’s concert. Now that is too close. I need a few days to get myself physically and mentally prepared to meet this gorgeous guy. I didn’t have a change of clothes; and whilst I don’t think I look too bad right now I do think a bit of pampering might make a difference. After all, I shan’t get a second chance to make a first impression. So I gracefully decline…

I need to manage my expectations. My friends and colleagues say I’m more excited about this guy than any one for quite a while. But he and I both agree we may well not get on (c.f. he probably won’t like me) when we meet, and we have to be realistic about that. But still, on paper he’s incredible and I do have to fight a smidge of infatuation!

OK. So, in the spirit of Rule 6, I’m going to review my archive of dating experience; treat myself - possibly buy some new clothes and tart myself up a bit - and just enjoy his company. We will definitely be Rule 1 compliant; and I shall be very, very careful of how much I drink. So if I’m very, very lucky, then at least I’ll get to see Girls Aloud at the O2!!

Casual is hard work

I don’t find it easy, when dating, to avoid the same trap of being too keen, Rule Two, or just generally not chillaxin’.

Now there is nothing that I should like more than to chillax, especially in the wars of the heart. It would make the attrition of dating all the more bearable not to invest so much into any particular guy… not to get infatuated. The smell of desperation is not an exquisite perfume I think, so it is important to be a bit circumspect and not wear my heart on my sleeve.

Of course then the next step would be learning how to stop being casual and actually recognise a relationship is beginning. That will be a real challenge; though one thing at a time!

The point is that it is easy for me to rush off and get attached to this guy and that because, well, it is easy. Like most gayers I never learned like the rest of the world to date, work out if someone likes me, start a relationship etc; after all in my occasional attempts at a heterosexual relationship almost never had me reading signals wrong to the point I might get killed!

So the truth is this new round of dating has me feeling quite lost at sea. The last year has been fun but my inbuilt failings have meant it hasn’t quite made up for a lifetime of self-imposed ignorance. No landmarks or signposts to show me the way. I have asked people’s opinions but advice is usually contradictory or less than helpful. Or, frankly tiresome game playing. And as previous posts have indicated I seem not quite up to speed on getting the clues.

I do try to be careful about my body language, how much I drink, where I go, how I dress when on a date. But I’d rather let things flow naturally for all my impatience. Just a pity I have to practise my ropey dating skills on men that might, just possibly…

Well, practice makes perfect gentle reader. I think I’m getting better at just, meeting someone and taking it/leaving it.

The guy I saw twice at the weekend decided he didn’t want to see me again. As before I remain entirely neutral about that and look forward to what’s next. My date tomorrow, to be specific. Followed hotly by my date on Thursday.

Both off gaydar, again. I’ve been used to going there for my casual other thing (which I tend not to find too much hard work at all) so that’s interesting… but I’m giving myself a mini-break from causal other thing until I’m a bit more settled in myself. Everything seems unsatisfactory at the moment. I feel very ill at ease sometimes about my looks; I miss International very much; I want to focus properly on my career for a while...

Chillax!

Le Mike: C'est moi

I have two dates coming up. One on Saturday and one on Wednesday, The first is with a guy I got in touch with via Parship; and on Wednesday I will be back at Das Boot for drinks with a guy I met through gaydar.

I’m quite keen for these dates to actually lead to something – not in a Rule Two way I hasten to add, and of course assuming I like the guy(s) in question. It may come across a bit zen but I think I need to focus on what I want a bit in order to fulfil the wants of someone else.

To that end I’ve found two sites of interest. The first is http://www.tomdickandsally.com/; a gay dating website that, like parship, uses personality testing. The second is http://www.gaylinkcontent.com/ which is a little trove of good advice for gay dating and relationships and other things too.

However, as we’re talking about me; what do these personality-test results tell us?

TomDickandSally tells me that I’m optimistic, innovative and trusting. Meaning I am "able to see the light at the end of the tunnel; even though it may appear dim at times! Although not immune to life’s slings and arrows, you never relinquish hope.

“You feel at ease with the modern world; you are happy to embrace the here and now with open arms. You also can’t imagine life without trust even though you know that there is no trust without betrayal. You judge others by your own standards.”

Parship tells me:

“You are always prepared to help with the worries and concerns of your friends, family and colleagues. Because you are very sensitive, your involvement is always appreciated. You offer advice and practical support when the need arises. And of course this means that you are bound to make a good impression in the early days of a relationship. But you should be aware of a potential danger: your rating for your instinct character type is low. You prefer to withdraw from problems and arguments rather than confront them directly. Talking about yourself might have become an alien experience recently [what do you think, gentle reader?!].

"You possess the ability to get on well with people because of your gentle manner and your immediate understanding of people's emotional needs. However, do you do enough for yourself in return? You should set your sights on who allows you to admit to your own appetites from time to time. Without this emotional outlet, it is possible that your relationship might stagnate over time as frustration sets in.

“You like to experience constant stimulation and excitement in a relationship. You are also a very reliable and trustworthy companion. This combination of vivacity and common sense is highly attractive to other people. It shouldn't be too difficult for someone to work out what you want from a relationship and how far you are prepared to go in terms of commitment.

“You have the ability to make an impression on a wide range of different people. You might like to search for a partner who can thrive on your energy and dynamism, rather than feel overwhelmed by it.”

Well, come and get it… I actually have a couple of other guys chatting to me right now too, soo... well, practice makes perfect :-)

Double plus Kapow

Well, I hardly know where to begin…

Date One, the South African – whom we should really call Sam from this point on – visited me today…

Eagle-eyed as always, gentle reader, you will recall we were due to meet on 27 February. What gives?

Well, Sam and I have been chatting online; texting, calling and emailing too. We’ve been calling each other several times a day and it had become our custom to call each other to say goodnight. Today he texted to ask if he could see me, if only for a little while… And, do you know, I thought to myself “why not”?

A little after 5pm (the efforts of TfL to transcend its usual caprice ridden whimsy and finally prevent anyone getting anywhere, ever, notwithstanding) we met: I’ll admit, as an aside, my first face-to-face sight of him left me (mentally) clicking my heels together and going ‘yippee’…

Anyway, we opened the wine he brought, and sat on the sofa. And we talked. And, my God I was nervous. Really nervous; more so than I’ve been on a ‘first date’ for quite some time. Me being me, of course, I burbled incontinently about inconsequential matters until, seemingly impulsively (though I suspect to shut me up) he leaned over and kissed me.

Well, if it was to shut me up it worked. Anyone who knows me would – if given the chance of course – happily confirm that very little leaves me speechless. But this did.

One kiss led, as these things will, to another and another – each of us breathlessly exclaiming throughout that Rule One was not! No! Never! To be broken.

Yet after the wine, when I went to put on some coffee, and he followed me into the kitchen, wrapped his arms around me and begun to nuzzle my neck it was that exact moment I decided I simply don’t care about rules any more.

Fortunately Sam is in better control of his baser nature than I and despite us both reaching a state known as dishabille, we – by a hair’s breadth to be sure - managed to keep to the letter of Rule One.

It wasn’t just the you-know-what though. We each talked about various things; he’s been so open with me, it really makes me want him more: The death of his father, his life growing up in South Africa as a non-white person (half Indian, half Indonesian, all yum) his [to be revealed another time]. Also, I think it rather civilised that we managed to end what I suppose we’d call date zero with a coffee and game of chess…

Well, I’m sold. Actually there’s nothing here I don’t like (at the risk of sounding crass, we pushed the boundaries of Rule One sufficiently for me to be quite sure of that) and apparently he feels the same… so until 27 February, then, let us raise a toast to South African food technologists named Sam.

Events

Another cracker of a week over with gentle reader. I still have some work to do over the weekend but phew! It took 10 hour days with no lunch but it’s done. 11 minutes ahead of schedule no less.

Being so busy means the weight is just falling off (76kg now!) and in fact if I don’t stop now I’ll be under-weight having lost 15 kg, or 33lbs, in 7 months. People are beginning to comment and I must admit I like the lean look of me; so much so I embraced dress down Friday and wore something more figure hugging. I just felt like showing myself of a bit - I'm still trying to get those before and after pics together ;-)

Anyway, I’ve been with International now (for a given value of ‘been with’) for five weeks and three days.

Yes, I see you rolling your eyes “oh, how bourgeois - another post about His Nibs”. Is it? Or is it? Well, read on and find out.

When thinking of my history over the last few months this tends to be the point the wheels fall off the wagon for me. The fact he and I spend hardly any time together, for reasonable reasons to be sure, is I think in part the reason for things being absolutely wonderfully fine. But in other ways it’s deeper than that.

Over the last year - being almost exactly a year since Darren and I started - I have come somewhat full circle and am a lot clearer on what I want from a relationship; any long term relationship. And that is pretty much the whole move in together, ‘marriage’, mortgage, fidelity thing. Perhaps regular readers will find that odd. I hope not. Of course an open relationship remains a possibility but I would indulge the openness to the fullest degree and what of the relationship then?

Yes, the proper grown-up bit is what I want – almost desperately want. As I’ve suggested before it comes from coming out quite late. Focussing on academia, career, etc at the expense of relationships, and, vicariously, family and friends has (now that I have come out and am on the right path) left me with a modicum of doubt and fear – I have a lot of catching up to do. Do I have the time to make the mistakes and learn from them that others had? Of course I have corrected the biggest mistake of them all: I’m here now. I’m learning to make the most of it!

Walk in the park

My friend is going to China after all and I am so pleased. It is the adventure of a lifetime and an opportunity not to be missed. Of course I shall be so sad to be so far apart but t’interweb is there – and I’ll have a new blog to add to my roll. Speaking of t’interweb I have also created a MySpace page; I’m not sure I’ll get on with it as well as I do Facebook, but why not? A client suggested it and he is the master of networking so I, the remora, follow his shark.

In other news I did meet International on Friday after all.

He kissed me when we met at my office and we walked to Green Park together and sat watching all the wildlife in such beautiful surroundings. And we talked. About ‘Us’.

I said I couldn’t define the options for us without risking putting him off as I did not know where he wanted us to be. I explained that I did not dare to dream of coming between him and his boyfriend; and that whilst eyes open had not thought through to the end when I entered into the affair.

International's view is he sees something for us in the future but he's not sure what might happen. He said that he and Ouch had been in an unhappy place for some time and that he felt things might naturally be coming to an end.

Of course I have never wanted to be the catalyst for such a thing and protested that for my own life I should never seek the like; if he were free it might be a different matter but I was especially firm that I did not want to be the rebound fling. Or to be resented in three, six, nine months when things were less than perfect and all the trouble becomes perhaps too much to bear.

I did however try to explain how I feel about him - that he has me in more ways than one. He said he felt the same way too “a bit” (!). But I did also say this… relationship we have is so challenging and intense that I often feel that we should stop while we [I] still can.

After International I went on to catch up with a group of friends and former colleagues, amongst whom was a lady who we might describe for the purposes of this post as my secretary in my old job. And she asked me the most pertinent question of all: is he the right one for me?

The more I think about that the less I know. I’m consumed with him; I’ve never felt quite like this about anyone. I’m in completely unexplored territory. We didn’t plan on a relationship – we’ve never even really had a date. But I know that while I’m with him I can’t be with anyone else.

I don’t know what I’m doing and it scares me. I’m trying very hard not to fall totally in love but I want him so much so much so much…

Barter

My last couple of posts are a bit clouded and ill thought out as they really have been me just thinking, or more accurately emoting, out loud.

What I really need to do is Think about my time with International, however long that may be.

I can’t be this involved or overwhelmed by whatever this is and have it make me miserable. However it goes and however soon it ends, it has to be something that makes me feel good, that feels worthwhile. Because right now I am helpless in my need for him and that just isn’t healthy.

So in no particular order, here are my thoughts:

Ouch. If he weren’t around… yes it makes a difference. We’d both be acting differently; but then we can dwell for eternity on what might have been. I need to consider what may become. How open is this open relationship? Does he know of me?

Similarly, we’ve always been clear that International’s in a relationship and that is that. But is that that? I don’t dream of him leaving Ouch for me, and this being the threshold of sun-filled forever. In fact I have always preferred to suppose that he would never do that. I do, however, need to be a bit surer of where the three of us stand.

Thinking about that my main area of uncertainty is what is it about me that draws International? I really can’t imagine what I provide that fills whatever gap International seeks to fill. It may just be sex; who knows? In which case this is tawdry and temporary and my courtesan skills at grape peeling and the zither go to waste.

Because of course there is my final though for today; I have again, again, become infatuated quite precipitately; how do I know he feels the same? Why would he? Sometimes I worry that he has everything and I have nothing. He is beautiful and I am lost. I have no control.

Sometimes I just get annoyed with myself. Really angry, in fact. Coming out went well but it wasn’t easy and I don’t want to cheapen it and diminish all that has gone before by going down a road that I shouldn’t. What the hell am I doing? Oh yes, gentle reader, I must find peace of mind before I completely give away my heart.

In the meantime not to dwell; I have new ideas about my business and a lot of work to catch up on this weekend – the first quiet one at home for some time. Nary a thought to his kiss, his strong arms, our bodies together…

Bricks and Mortar

My street, my actual street, suffered the greatest percentage fall in property values in all of London. Luckily I rent; considering my investments in other areas, gentle reader, that may be particularly wise!

I had my first ever counselling session on Wednesday (I also had my second hepatitis B injection, and have been suffering horribly with side effects for the last two days). The counsellor is nice older gentleman and we spent the first session in a ‘getting to know you’ style. His office is remarkably close to mine and session two will apparently focus on safe sex. I hope it won’t be a “this is how to put on a condom” thing as I’m somewhat past that. In fact the only little niggle I have with the first session was his failure to accept the fact I practise safe sex and throughout my whole life have more than 90% rate of guaranteeing a crop failure when sowing the wild oats. And of course so much better than that since I’ve come out too; there is little virtue in dwelling on my ancient sins.

So the jury’s still out on that one; but in other areas not so much.

On Thursday night I went to das Boot to meet a good friend and former colleague – who herself has had a rough time recently but really sounds like things are looking up. Anyway, during a boozy night International called but it was a very stilted “hello, how are you?” conversation and it left me feeling somewhat at a loss. But when I stumbled in that night, he had sent me a very long romantic message and this is a portion of what he wrote:

I just wanted to say… that I really want to see you again. We left everything hanging up in the air in Spain and I really did not like that. I don't claim to know what we are doing; I certainly don't know what I am doing. Having said that, I suspect we may have something worth exploring. I hope I am not mis-reading the signals... God knows I am new to all this… and am not much of a catch with all my "baggage."

And my reply, after a night of misery and a day of contemplation… of course I’m going to see him again. Of course I am. I am a fool and I am weak I don’t whether it is more stupid to put myself in a position where he’ll break my heart; or to do knowingly nothing to control when it happens. I read this back to myself and perceive how I must seem to you gentle reader. But I am a stupid, weak fool who hopes to have the sun shine on his heart just a little while longer…

L'homme lisant

My body is like a temple: I occasionally let people in for acts of worship. Ho, ho, ho! Only joking; I’m a good girl, I am. Nevertheless tonight I had dinner with Nick (followed by a film) and drinks with International, and both were very pleasant indeed.

But here’s a thing, gentle reader: a thought.

Thinking deep thoughts is so rare for me that precedent passes from all memory - recently this blog has not been the hive of instrospection and self realisation you have become used to [hah]. But it may be back to the good old days because… something occurred to me. Something that in itself made me really stop and think.

International is an unavailable guy. He’s in a long term relationship, which nevertheless allows for extra-curricular activity and in no way is likely to end soon. Certainly not over me. And that is not what I would want – my penchant for honesty comes not from being lied to but from a genuine if not overly-restrictive desire not to cause discord or grief.

International is, in addition, an accomplished man; and achingly beautiful with it. So far out of my league it beggars belief. He has, though, some real self-esteem issues, which in part is why - whether rightly or wrongly - he’s carrying on with me.

And the sum total of that is exactly what I had with Darren. Darren wasn’t particularly accomplished of course, and International isn’t him – to compare them even superficially would be doing him a disservice.

What concerns me is that I may be repeating history, or even – God forbid – simply going through a long drawn out recovery from the events of March and April. I’m damned if this is all about getting over my first [only] proper boyfriend. I have been thinking about Darren quite a bit lately, mainly in terms of “what a/an [adjective]” but still for all that with occasional fondness.

As for International, our long weekend is imminent. And all of a sudden an attack of prudish angst about my body. He’s just so good it makes me feel really concerned about my frumpishness – and that is not helped by averaging 5 of 10 in QueerPersonals’ “Hot or Not?” competition (oddly getting either 8, 9 or 10 OR 1, 2, and 3 – never anything in-between). Yet is such things matter to me so much I should be cheered by a renewed stream of nominations to gaydar's "Sex Factor" too :-)

Thank goodness I have my first counselling session a week on Wednesday, though I remain somewhat dubious about it all. I don’t want to get into it and abandon it half-way through. Well, you and I can giggle over how silly it is afterward. If it is silly. I really don’t know...

Kramer Vs Dissonance

I booked my flight to sunny Spain today; fortunately I was able to get a flight that arrives roughly the same time as International’s. I did toy with the idea of being double plus romantic and trying to get on the same flight, but that would have stretched the credulity of my bank manager to breaking point. Ho hum.

International himself skated on some very thin ice today when he demurred about my done-to-death sexual health check up. Not because there was anything dodgy about the results: far from it. But because he suddenly got an attack of cold feet when, as we talked, he (to paraphrase him) realised I was quite promiscuous and he only very occasionally strayed from the True Path. Why yes, gentle reader, it should come as no surprise that I sow my wild oats. I do resent, however, being made to feel bad when I take every reasonable step to guarantee a crop failure and double check just to make sure.

Fortunately he managed to stave off disaster by explaining how he felt nervous and somewhat overwhelmed; he rarely has affairs (for want of a better term). And I’ve quite swept him off his feet.

I called International’s boyfriend Ouch not out of disrespect but to emphasise the potential for some serious-bad fallout. Even through the jolly pink fug of my dissonance I dimly perceive I’m pushing the art of the possible when it comes to my protestations of honesty, and no wish to hurt anyone. My justification? International will never be my man, I’m not going to break them up. This won’t last forever. Yes, I may well be doing wrong. But I just want it.

And if you knew International you’d want it too.

We’re going to meet on Saturday afternoon for a coffee and to talk (not Talk, note: we’re OK). And then, next week, viva Espanya! Of course I still have my date on Saturday evening – and on Sunday Academic is in London, with me, so I can make up for being Mr Moody Pants last time. Actually he’s down here all weekend but is spending Saturday night with friends so that works out just peachy.

I was told recently that my life is over-complicated; and I’m sure it must seem this way. But the truth is I’m quite happy the way things are right now. It occurred to me that my sex-life has changed from a series of assignations, with the occasional bijou-boyfriendette thrown in, to a series of regular lovers of greater or lesser intensity. Is that progress? I haven’t missed the search for a boyfriend though I am, perhaps contrarily, all the keener to resume the search for Mr Right given my recent break…. Oh yes gentle reader; dissonance spanks it hard!

Self Control

I have a terrible inability to keep things – that is, matters of the heart - in perspective. Hence The Rules, and their being more honoured in the breach than in the observance.

This coming Wednesday will be only the fourth time that I will have seen Gareth. I’m sure my ramblings and ravings have made it seem longer; though there have been the online messages (via Guardian Soulmates), text messages, emails and telephone calls too. Still, whoa-Betsy! You can see what I mean by infatuation:

Infatuation is the state of being completely carried away by unreasoned passion or love. Infatuation usually occurs at the beginning of a relationship. It is characterised by urgency, intensity, desire, and/or anxiety, in which there is an extreme absorption in another. It is traditionally associated with youth.

Then again, I suppose that shows that I’m young at heart!

I had my ‘leaving do’ yesterday and as a parting gift (one of many) my former colleagues gave me a large peace lily, now named Esmeralda, and taking pride of place in my living room. I’m glad to move on and I know I’m taking with me life-long friends (and some not – one of my former colleagues has already ‘unfriended’ me on Facebook!).

I have indulged in a bit of retail therapy today too despite being somewhat hung-over. But it got me out of the house and gave me a chance to think whilst not thinking, if that makes sense. It certainly helped me have a bijou epiphanyette:

I’ve realised that going from dating someone to being in a Relationship with them (I use the upper-case correctly; I have a relationship with everyone – even my postman, but that is one of mutual loathing and that is not quite what I mean here) involves moving from the periphery of their life – an add-on if you will – to being the core; no more new experiences to be had alone, and nothing old that isn’t shared.

It has been rare indeed to meet someone as willing to put me at the centre of their lives as I have for them, and dealing with that made me forget recently that going out on a limb has never really back-fired on me… Gareth knows how much I like him, I think. I should trust him to let me know how he feels in his own good time. And good time it will have to be – all this after not quite four dates? I must seem like a fool! All my friends caution me it is early days but do I listen? Well, it is time to be a bit more mature and let Gareth grow into Mr Right as and when he wants to. Or not; we shall see.

So now I start my week off, with my list of things to do: a rising heart supporting a sinking head.