When I Need A Pick Me Up, by my friend Ryan King

Saturday, November 27, 2010

"how things are"

Came back a few minutes ago from My Con Buddy's invite to run out and meet him for a bite to eat. He's the guy I drove down to NC with, and went with him to join a gym, and we've done a classic movie, and attended a podcast recording event, and who I told everything in my history to except me being gay. ("Con" as in "comic convention", not as in "he's served time in prison"). He's (one of) the handsome budd(ies) I have that I hope somehow are as gay as me and are hiding it like I am, and are waiting for me to say the right thing before they'll take me in their arms.

Last week we went out to see a concert. He had an extra ticket because he wanted to invite this girl at work and she became unavailable. So, yeah, he's still hetereo. No indie flick, "best-friend comes out and reveals his true love for the hero" ending to this story. But pre-show, while we were eating bagels in the window of a Williamsburg deli (and yes, I can't lie--it was as cool as it sounds) who walks by on the street except none other than My First Man Date.

Mind you, I haven't spoken to him since he reached out to me in my silence. But there he went on by. Far as I know, he could have been going home--I never knew his actual address, although I do remember his neighborhood, and I didn't mark it as being near Williamsburg. But yeah, there he went. And there I sat with my straight friend, My Con Buddy, who I haven't been able to tell that I'm gay to. And I waited for the panic attack to set in. And oddly, it didn't.

And I thought, not for the first time, that if there's a God, He's writing my life like we write cable drama. Because WHAT?! REALLY?! And my next thought was, what if My First Man Date saw me sitting there with my handsome friend? Well, of course he'd think I was on another date. And he'd want to be introduced, if for no other reason than to verify that I was doing well and getting on with my dating life after it not working out with him (because honestly, My First Man Date is THAT nice--albeit also being a little horndog). And what would I then say to My Con Buddy, seeing an "obvious" gay man greet me warmly and possibly take for granted that I'm on another date with a dude? Well, I'd have to come out, wouldn't I? And what if I did? Would I lose My Con Buddy? And if I did, shouldn't I Cee-Lo Green his ass to the curb?

Hey, if it was that easy, I'd be out of the closet.

One thing My Con Buddy hasn't done point blank is ask me about my taste in women. Of course, I'VE done the asking of his taste, for my own curiosity sake. He either already highly supects I'm for the dudes and doesn't want it confirmed, or he doesn't really care and would prefer not to know anyway. I can't think of a third alternative. Either way, I don't feel like it's a good idea to reveal as I've done with some of my married geek buddies. I figure, I suppose, that since they're married, they could feel less threatened by me (although I know in my heart of hearts that I wanted them to confess their lust for me despite their statusi). The married ones accept me. I dunno if the single ones hunting ladies would accept me the same way. ESPECIALLY if they might be a little gay themselves but want it even less than I do.

So all this is to say that the "how things are" of my life are not so good. I'm still repressed and afraid. I'm still frustrated and ashamed (evidently). And although I'm doing fun things, thanks to My Con Buddy, I'm lonely. (And I miss Ned).

Wish I had better news, but this misery is comfortable and it seems to be the destination of my choice. Even when I considered calling My First Man Date to tell him I saw him in Williamsburg, I opted out of that too. I just want it all to go away. But it doesn't. So I do.

Sunday, November 7, 2010

Before I Run Out The Door ...

...heh. NYC Marathon was today. So my title is funny. But not what I meant.

I'm going to Brooklyn to the convention that totally snuck up on me this year. I've been sick like dog for the past two days, and I cancelled all of yesterday's appointments, and this mornings'. And I had this afternoon's cancel on me, so I was suddenly freed up.

Freed up to go to this Brooklyn convention.

Which just happens to be the place I saw THIS GUY (pictured).
Which is right now the absolute only reason I'm going back to this place.

So I wanted to say that yes, if I find this guy today, I'm going to talk to him and see what's what.

And if he's gay, and available, and likes me, then I am ready to tear the door off my closet and get on with My Life As A Gay Man.

Otherwise, it'll be business as usual, which I will be blogging about undoubtedly. Just not as much.

Wish me luck.



Well, romantically, it was a bust. I haven't seen the Dream Hunk since the last Brooklyn Convention, despite all the conventions I've been to between then and now. He's gone. Practically forever, as far as I need to be concerned. It was already a big chance that someone as gorgeous as him would be 1) single 2)available 3)gay and 4)attracted to me. I interpreted those looks he kept giving me as a 'come hither' glance, but whatever. Even if he wanted me then, I wasn't really ready. A year later I think I am, but I'm probably not really. I mean, I'm like a teenage girl holding out for Brad Pitt to leave Angelina. Foolish. Picky and foolish. (For the record, Brad Pitt is not my type. Too much lip-meat.)


Still nothing.

Wait, a little something ... my First Man Date reached out to me again a few days ago and I didn't respond. Prolly because I want this all to go away and I do want to retreat into my shell. Which is what he suspects. And you see, the 'want to' is very powerful. Like every one of my female dates/girlfriends have done, I need one of these gorgeous hunky men to approach me. And for that to happen, I have to be where they are. Which means a gay bar, which I've learned exists within walking distance. Or a gay society club. Or ... whatever. This is just ridiculous. Stupid stupid stupid.