I will survive.
Tonight I’m having dinner with Little Deaf Boy. He’s this
sexy motherfucker I met online about a year ago. He’s a
rock climber, kayaker, mad skier – which has resulted
in a phenomenal body and a killer ass. There’s really
nothing this kid cannot do. Except maybe hear. Initially I
was crazy smitten with this one.
After a few dinners, sweaty mind-blowing romps, and
cuddly post-coital sessions he revealed that while he
did not have a boyfriend, he did in fact have a "lifetime
partner." The Little Mute Shit was playing me.
I’ll be honest at first I was hurt. But that passed.
Besides, I’m not one to stew in my own pathetic
whimpers. [Speaking of pathetic whimpers, I spent
some time reading the journals of other gay on-line
diarists. My advice, boys: make the effort to get some
dignity and therapy. Crying in an online journal is not
going to change things.]
Anywho, I learned quite quickly to answer his
challenges. His e-mails go unanswered. I ignore or
offer terse replies to his IMs. When I feel like seeing
those sexy legs in the air, I respond. Then it’s wham,
bam, wipe yourself off, and get yourself back to your
boyfriend…I mean, lifetime partner.
Mood: uncharacteristically cocky
Music: Tom Petty Free Falling