A turn of events that is literally incredible by its definition: At our last update, I was going to make an honest go of it with Harry Potter, rather than fretting because he wasn't Gerrard. So we had a date on Friday, April 7; a lovely drinks night with much heady conversation and of course … Continue reading unbelievable
That was the thing I desperately needed yesterday, to burn the forest.
When he tells you that you deserve every perfection in life, and you reply that you don't believe in perfection because perfection is a stagnant condition where there is no more to achieve and it signals the end of growth and he interrupts your explanation with a kiss to say, "Close to perfect, then."
Mechanically, it was fun. Intellectually, he wasn't a waste of my time. But I felt nothing for him.
Post Soundtrack: "These Days" by the Black Keys Allen wanted to visit tonight—to see if there was time and space to go back to the place where I was his submissive. We had a lovely dinner, one of my favorite restaurants. And he didn't hear me, he didn't hear a single word I said. I … Continue reading these days
My gut anxiety was correct last week—even though as I typed those words, I still had the scent of Gerrard's soap in my nose, could still feel his hands in my hair. He began to fade away on Thursday and was disappeared in earnest by Friday noon. Jack did the exact same thing, and being … Continue reading the ides of March
I got one tonight from Gerrard. It isn't too different from the feeling I had on the second day after Jack. I will hold out a tiny bit of hope; this was too good not to take a chance at being wrong. But it's time now to do what I do most: analyze the inputs … Continue reading sell signal
In the last five days I have seen Gerrard for three visits of eight hours, six hours, and seventeen hours respectively. After this latest (a heady, passionate, sublime visit, beyond anything I could have imagined), I can barely wallow in the deliciously dirty details, for I am paralyzed with anxiety. See, something went wrong with … Continue reading Saint Raphael, hear my prayers
In "Someone New", my boy Andrew H. Byrne sings about what it's like to be on the hunt. The world is a big, gorgeous, messy pile of horny humans, looking for each other—and if Tumblr and Craigslist are any indicator, most of them are failing miserably. For whatever reason, I have been lucky to cross … Continue reading Electing strange perfections
I realized it with the force of a car crash on Saturday night: I want a man who needs help getting back to being a boy. I do not want a boy who needs help becoming a grown-up. I have great respect for the ability to laugh and have wonder and joy, especially as we … Continue reading Peter Principle