Not Just Another Gay Slut

Thursday, September 08, 2005

On the Bridge

I stood on the bridge, high above the park, eye-level with the trees.

"Autumn is only a few weeks away," I thought, and I squinted my eyes at the trees. They blurred together and it was almost as if I could see the colors they would soon become - mostly browns, but with some yellow and orange mixed in.

We fought this morning. I left his house still angry and I fumed for most of the day. In the mid-afternoon sun, I felt my anger leave and I replaced it with sadness.

My arm still hurt from where he had grabbed it. I'm so tired of dealing with this, of dealing with him. I should leave. I should.

I grasped the rail of the bridge. My eyes followed a single yellow leaf that fluttered and flailed until it silently landed in the creek.

Thursday, July 21, 2005

Back to Being [NJAG]Slutty

NJAGS has returned from hiatus. Let the people rejoice!


Il Professore Italiano is long gone, our last meeting sealed with a kiss. *sigh*

There is a new guy though. Naturally.

We met a couple of months ago online. Naturally. He was in Hawaii at the time, but is in the process of moving to DC. We went on one date while he was here buying a house. Then, he left for several weeks.

He's back now, at a course near BWI Airport. We've seen each other almost everyday. The sex is pretty good.

This weekend, we are going to Las Vegas together.

I'm not really sure what I think about him. I'm not as infatuated as with the Italian Professor. I am just as confused though. Naturally.

More later ...

Sunday, May 15, 2005


Neither of us were morning people, but we dealt with it in completely different ways. I had to force myself out of bed as soon as the alarm went off; otherwise, I’d never get up. Alan, on the other hand, was a snooze hitter. He would hit the snooze button at least 4 times before rolling out of bed.

6AM. He hit the snooze; I stumbled out of bed and into the kitchen. I can’t eat first thing in the morning. My body needs time to wake up before I can even think about food. I usually have a muffin once I get to work. I make breakfast for Alan every morning though. This morning, I thought something simple would be nice, maybe Japanese. We had rice leftover from last night’s dinner, so I didn’t need to cook more.

As I put the water on the stove and began slicing some mushrooms, I heard the shower start. Thirty minutes later, Alan, already dressed, came into the kitchen.

“Good morning,” he said, kissing me lightly on the cheek and sat down at the little table by the window.

“Morning.” I placed bowls of rice and miso soup and some chopsticks in front of him.

“Mmm. Japanese.”

I headed into the bathroom to get ready for work.

As I walked out of the bathroom, I saw him standing by the door. “I’ve got to go or I’ll miss my bus,” he said, looking at the clock.

“OK,” I said, as I walked up to him. “Have a good day. I love you.”

We kissed. He tasted like toothpaste and miso soup.

“Bye. I love you, too.”

That was five years ago. It was the last time I saw him. The bus driver remembered him getting on the bus, but he never showed up at his office. He just disappeared. Sometimes, I think he’s still out there, trying to get back. Sometimes, I think he’s dead. Sometimes, I think he couldn’t take this life anymore, so he left and created a new one.

Sometimes, like this morning, if I close my eyes and concentrate, I can still taste the sweet salty tang of miso on his lips.

Saturday, April 16, 2005

The Return of il Professore Italiano

After our date, we couldn't find on street parking near my building.

"Well, damn," I said, "I guess we'll just have to make out in your car."

He parked the car in front of my building and we started talking.
In the car beside us, a couple was arguing. The woman was ignoring the man and staring at us.

"I feel uncomfortable kissing in front of them," he said.
"Maybe they just need to see some love and they'll feel better," I replied.
"Yeah. I'm sure watching two faggots kiss is exactly what they want to see."
"That's what I want to see."

He laughed.

"I don't know if I'm still contagious," he said, having only recently recovered from a pretty heinous viral infection.
"It should be OK."
"I don't want to make you sick."
"Quit stalling and kiss me," I said, as I leaned into him.

We kissed. It was nice - the softness of his lips, the scratchiness of his goatee ... *sigh*

When we stopped, he said, "Now, quick, run inside and gargle with some mouthwash."

I laughed, said good night, and went inside.

Wednesday, April 13, 2005

Where Do I Fit In?

I haven't posted in awhile. There hasn't been any reportable action recently. The Chinese boy has disappeared (again) ~ I'm assuming it's because the end of the semester is rapidly approaching with it's deadlines and exams. The Italian Professor has been laid up with a pretty heinous viral infection ...

I haven't had a date in a good long while. [OK. That's a lie. I had one last Sunday, but it really is not worth mentioning.]

What I've been thinking about recently is what the title asks: Where do I fit in?
It seems like all of my friends are either 1) finding partners or 2) miserable being single. Aren't there any happy single people out there?

Admittedly, I would love to have a partner ... someone to hold (and be held by) in the middle of the night ... a (fairly) reliable source of sex ... someone to talk to ... to love ... but, it looks like I'm trapped in some sort of Eternal Singlehood.

I wonder what it is about me that is so repulsive to other guys? My exes seem to find someone else easily. Why can't I? I have begun to realize that most of the rest of my life will be spent alone. And, I'm (mostly) accepting of that. I enjoy my company. I have good friends and interesting (to me) hobbies. I'm not miserable when I'm alone.

Not that I'm jumping for joy at all times. But, like Carmen said to me on Saturday night, "You're a pretty positive person, aren't you?" And, I am. I look for the silver lining - and I usually find it. I'm comfortable with who I am. I like being me.

I guess I just need to remind myself of that more often.

Thursday, April 07, 2005


NJAGS has been feeling a little lonely recently, so he got himself a BlogPet. --->

Isn't he the cutest thing EVER??? Now, I just need to decide on a name. I'm thinking something biblical. Maybe Methuselah.

NJAGS is open to suggestions though.

Saturday, April 02, 2005


When you've dated half of DC, these things are bound to happen ...

As I was coming down the escalator to the Dupont Circle platform, I saw him.

Over a month ago, we had had what I thought was a nearly perfect date. We laughed, talked, shared experiences, and had a good time. We ended the date with a hug and a long kiss.

Two days later I called and was brushed off. He left on a 10-day trip to Europe. When he came back, he had the flu. I tried contacting him a few times after that, but nothing. I gave up.

Last night, there he was, standing by the wall in all his beautiful glory. I saw him look at me, trying to place how he knew me.

I pulled out my iShuffle and walked slowly by, ignoring his gaze. I stopped a few yards up the platform and stood there.

When the train arrived, we entered the same car. I sat in the front; he was in the back. I could feel his eyes boring into me.

I imagined all sorts of scenarios -

-He finally remembers who I am and approaches me. We talk. We laugh. We go to his place and fuck for hours.

-He finally remembers who I am and approaches me. As he speaks, recognition slowly dawns across my face. I ask how unemployment is treating him. I am cold. I am ice. I am laughing on the inside.

-I approach him with a friendly "hi." I ask why he was such an ass. He blushes, stammers out a pathetic reply, and I laugh.

In reality, nothing happened. I even cut right in front of him on the escalator.

On the walk home in the rain, I crushed a few earthworms.