Category Archives: gay

It’s Time for Us To All Respect and Love Ourselves Because We Can Be Fucking Awesome! (Or…I got crabs)

train

 

So, Ive learned something within the last few weeks.   Despite everything I’ve gone through, and all the progress I’ve made, I still don’t value myself.   Now, before I get into this whole thing, let me explain how this revelation all came together:  I got crabs.  Yes. I got public lice.   And It is probably one of the most disgusting and gross things that have ever happened to me.

You see, when I get sad and stressed and lonely, I lash out with sex.  I battle with a sex addiction.  And for anyone out there who thinks that sex addiction isn’t real, well you can go fuck yourself, I have nothing to prove to you.     ANYWAYS, moving forward… So that’s my vice I guess you could say.  And I have times where I handle it really well and then I have times when I don’t.    I moved here in January to start school and Im guessing if you’re reading this blog, you’re most likely the kind of person who is different from most. So you all know how much of a struggle it is to make friends when you’re like us.   And beyond friends, DATES?  …That basically doesn’t happen.

So I’ve been working really hard at school (I’m straight A’s right now Im proud to say!) But I’ve also been facing the crushing loneliness of moving to a new place.

Also, I think I should mention I’m at Harvard, and it’s not to brag, but it’s important to understanding the situation.

IMG_0309

So,  Harvard is amazing, but there is a culture here, because it’s the best school in the country, and probably the most famous in the world:  A vast majority of people here are cunts.   Like most stereotypes, the ones about Harvard are also true.  You have an overwhelming majority of insanely wealthy people who have no idea what reality is like.  You have competition coming out of your ass.  You have this “If I can’t benefit from you, theres no point in talking to you” mentality.   Remember Legally Blonde?  Well, there are a lot of Vivian Kensington’s here.

train3

 

But, ugh… way too much building the scene right?  I just need to get on with what I’m trying to say.   So, I’ve been lonely.  I’m a creative type who wants to write stories to inspire the outcasts of the world to hang in there, and I’m in a school full of methodical, wealthy, WASPS….literally the kinds of people who create outcasts.   So, making a social life has been hard.

 

 

In my loneliness, Ive turned to sex.  Luckily for me, I’m a top, and I always use a condom.  So the risk of things like HIV and shit are super low.   However, things that spread from skin-to-skin contact…. like lice…. well, let’s just say it wasn’t pretty.   The last few weeks I have been itching really badly, so I went to the doctor and she said it was probably jock itch, so she gave me cream and said not to be alarmed if the itching is still there for 2-3 weeks.   And furthermore, when the lice are on your skin they kind of look like freckles that have slightly weird boundaries.  So, nothing immediately seemed odd.   But as the weeks went on and the cream did nothing, and  I started seeing a lot of these odd new freckles, and not just on my pubic region, but on my thighs and stuff, I was like…. you know what, this is weird…. so I picked at one of them, and then it came off!  I was shocked.  I was like… did I get mud on me when I went running or kayaking or something and it dried?    But then i picked another one and held it up close to me eyes to get a good glimpse and I COULD SEE IT SQUIRMING AROUND!    I won’t show a picture because it’s gross, but there’s a reason why public lice are called crabs…their shape is different from head lice. Public lice literally look like tiny crabs.   I almost threw up and I ran to the doctors.

 

So yeah…I was a lice factory for about month and didn’t even know it, which gave the lice all the time in the world to breed and wander onto my legs and oh the joy! 

train4

 

So here’s where I’m at now:  I’m feeling so ashamed of myself.  I know I can better than this.  Having sex with any person willing to be fucked?   Also, mentally this isn’t good either.  Someone a long time ago once said insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results.  And thats what I’ve been doing.   And I’ve been doing it out of desperation because I didn’t respect or believe in myself enough.

 

But now it’s time to.   I’m so tired of feeling like I’m worth nothing.  I’m tired of believing that all I’m worth is some gross guy on grindr who wants a random hookup.   Because I am better than that.  I am worth more.  

I
CAN
BE
BETTER
GOD
DAMMIT!

 

I need to believe in my writing and believe that I have talent and that people will want to read what I write.

I need to believe that I am an attractive person both inside and out and am worthy of love.

I need to believe that my life is far from over.  In fact, the good stuff is still to come!

I need to believe that my life matters.

And I want all of you to believe that too.  I think we all matter.  And I firmly believe that people who have been through things are actually the most capable of creating change in this world.  We know pain.  We know sorrow.  And that knowledge and emotional depth makes all of us valuable.   

 

And if were going to take this back to Harvard and Legally Blonde, then let’s remember Elle Woods.  That bitch didn’t change herself.  She walked into law school in a fucking pink skirt and chihuahua and then rocked that shit out harder than anyone else.              So, fuck the Vivian Kensigntons of the world, we need more Elle Woods.

train5

 

 

So, that’s where I’m at.  I think I’ve had another breakthrough in my emotional health.  I think I’ve finally seen more of the depths of how much I actually hate myself.  And now, it’s time to change that.  it’s time to let the real me shine.  It’s time to be myself and not be ashamed of that.  We all must have courage and faith in our abilities.  We all need to remember that we are awesome.

Alright, Elle, how bout you give us some final words of wisdom:

train2

 

 

~ The Dark Horse

 

 

 

Advertisements

My Sexual Assault Story

mac

Alright, so, this is Mackinac Island.  A small resort island in the Great Lakes.  I’m going to share with everyone a story about what happened to me there.

But first let me say, this isn’t a memory I’ve thought about recently.  I was reading a book yesterday called Suicide Notes.  In the book something happens to the main character that was very similar to something that has happened to me.  He wakes up in the suicide wing of mental ward.  He is there with about 5 other teens who are in extreme mental distress.  One night, the big football jock (who never discloses the reason why he is there) named Renken comes into his room while he’s sleeping and… you know.

After reading that scene, the memory of Mackinac came flooding back into my head.

Here’s what happened:

mac1

Although it seems like a sleepy little resort island, behind the scenes is a whole different story.  When you work on the island you stay up in the middle of the island.  The part where nobody goes.  Most of the hotels put you up in “dorms” which is basically 2 old houses that have been connected together.  I was staying in one of the dorms for the hotel called The Island House during the summer of 2014.

My roommate was this kind of machismo guy who’s dad was in the military.   He didn’t go to college and he smoked and drank and did drugs like a fuckin’ crazy person.   But then again, everyone on Mackinac Island did drugs.  Drugs were everywhere.  For me, someone who doesn’t drink or do drugs, it was a horrible experience already.  The dorms were separated by gender.  There were guy dorms and girl dorms.   So you can image, a building filled with a bunch of guys between 20 and 28 who drank, fucked, and did drugs like crazy…it was kind of like living the worst frat-house nightmare imaginable.

 

So, one night about a month into my stay there, I’m sleeping and suddenly I start having this horrible dream.   In my dream I woke up and saw a shadowy figure standing in the room staring at me.  I remember it was making this weird kind of incoherent noise.  I felt so scared.  I remember in the dream I was saying “No…please go away….go away…please go away…”  and I felt so cold. I just remember this intense feeling of being exposed and cold and scared.

Then, I actually opened my eyes and saw that there was something in my room staring at me.  It was a person. But it was so dark I couldn’t really make out who it was.  I remember having this feeling like my stomach was in knots but at the same time it felt like my stomach was also clumped in my throat.  It was so difficult to process because I was still only half-awake.  I put the covers over me and tried hiding. I was so scared because I didn’t know what was going on, I just knew there was someone in my room.

Suddenly I could hear the sounds of someone climbing up the bunk bed and into my bed.  I was so scared I couldn’t breathe.  Then it laid down next to me.  At this point I kind of woke up a little more and was confused… If someone had come into my room to kill or rob me or something, they wouldn’t just lay down.   I took the blanket off from over my head and looked to see that it was my roommate.

I became a little less stressed knowing that I was safe and that it was just my roommate.  I figured he just got super drunk or high and had no idea where he was and came into my bed by accident.  I started to fall back asleep until suddenly he grabbed my hand and put it on his penis.  At that point I suddenly realized my roommate wasn’t wearing pants and was erect.  I quickly moved my hand away but he grabbed it again and put it back on his penis.     I moved my hand away again, and then he put his hands in my underwear and grabbed my penis.

I said, “What are you doing…dude stop”.   But then he started this weird incoherent low-level mumbling….the same that I heard from the shadowy figure in my dream before I woke up.    Suddenly I was terrified again, knowing that he must have been standing over my bed watching me as he mumbled whatever the fuck he was saying.   That must have been why I was so scared in my dream and why I felt so exposed.  My body must have known that someone was standing and watching me.

He grabbed my head and tried pushing me down to suck his dick.   I pulled away again and said, “Dude stop it, seriously.  what the hell is going on?”.    It was so weird because he kept his eyes closed.  Like he didn’t want to mentally be part of the moment.   Then the mumbling became more audible.  He was calling me “fag” and “slut” and was saying things like “Suck it you fuckin bitch”.

I was pretty much awake at this point, and I was scared.  This guy wasn’t the most stable I had ever met to begin with, plus I didn’t what kind of drugs he was on that night so I had no idea what he would be capable of doing”.  I tried playing stupid and so I did one of those koala cuddles to him, where you put your leg and your arm around the other person.  I tried doing it in an ‘Oh lets cuddle’ type way, but what I was actually doing was trying to hold his arms down so he couldn’t grab me.

He kept pushing my arms off and kept trying to push my head down to his crotch.   When he saw that wasn’t working he grabbed my penis again, and obviously it was limp because…how the fuck am I supposed to be aroused in a moment like that?   Then in his weird mumbling he said, “why aren’t you hard you fuckin fag?”.

I was now pretty pumped up with adrenaline and so I sat up and I said, “You need to get the fuck out of my bed right now”.   He tried grabbing me again but I swatted his hand away.  Then, silently, he got up and left the room.  I could hear that he walked into the bathroom which was the door next to ours and I heard him get in the shower.  I locked the bedroom door and tried to get back to sleep.

 

The next day when I saw him I asked what had happened last night.  He of course was like, “What do you mean?”   So I told him that I was talking about him coming into my bed.  Then he responded with something like, “Oh man I was so drunk I probably had no idea which bed was mine..”  Which you know what, I wouldn’t have cared if that was the case.  Had he been drunk and passed out in my bed I wouldn’t have cared.  But that wasn’t all that happened…

So then I said…”dude, you didn’t pass out in my bed…did you not realize that you didn’t wake up in our room this morning?”   And he was like… “Oh ya I crashed in my friends room”.    kept pushing him.  I said, “Do you know why you had to do that?”  And he was like… “No man, why?”  So I straight up told him.  I told him that he came into my bed and tried making me suck his dick.   To which he responded with, “Oh dude, I was so high I probably thought I was crawling in a girl’s bed or something….”

….SERIOUSLY?   

So then I mentioned that that doesn’t make any sense considering that he he grabbed my dick, which isn’t something you would normally do to a girl…

Then he got all quiet and was like… “well that wasn’t me man, must have been someone else…”

 

I knew it was him.  I wasn’t the drunk and high one in that bed.  I clearly remember who was in that bed with me and I remember what he did.

We never really spoke after that.  However, 2 days later he switched rooms.  Then he told all the guys in the dorm that the reason he left our room was because I was a fag and would stare at him when he was naked.

Furthermore, anytime I would pass him in the building or on the lawn he would always call me a fag as I walked by.  He of course was always sitting with about 5 other guys at all times so it wasn’t exactly like I could have fought him or anything.

 

People would say things to me like, “Oh man I don’t know what you did to him but he’s always talking about how he wants to beat you up” and “You really shouldn’t have come on to him….it’s kind of your fault”.

 

But you know what people, I’m gay and from Ohio.  Sadly, I know how the world treats gay people.  From experience I know that adding flame to the fire is the worst thing you can do.  Going around and telling everyone what really happened was only going to make him even more mad.  And a closeted drug addict son of a military father is not the kind of guy you want to question the sexuality of.   That would just be me asking to get beat to death one night.

 

So I justified it to myself.  I told myself this is just how the world treats me.  Nobody ever cared about me before, so why would they now?  I remember thinking that, after all, he was the hottest guy who has ever wanted to have sex with me…so maybe I should have been grateful?   I just did what I had to do to make it through the rest of that summer.

 

But now, after reading that book all these years later I’m fucking pissed.   Present-day me would have beat the shit out of him.  Present-day me would have raised the kind of hell most people could only imagine the devil himself could conjure.

IT WASN’T FAIR THAT I HAD TO HAVE THAT HAPPEN

IT WASN’T FAIR THAT I HAD TO LISTEN TO HIM CALL ME A FAG AS HE TRIED TO FORCE ME TO SUCK HIS DICK

IT WASN’T FAIR THAT I HAD TO HEAR HIM CALL ME A FAG EVERYDAY AFTER THAT

IT WASN’T FAIR THAT HE COULD TELL EVERYONE A FAKE STORY BECAUSE HE KNEW THEY WOULD BELIEVE HIM OVER ME

IT WASN’T FAIR THAT I HAD TO LIVE BEING AFRAID OF GETTING BEAT UP THE REST OF THE SUMMER

THE BOTTOM LINE IS THAT IT WASN’T FAIR.  IT WASN’T RIGHT, AND IT ISN’T JUSTIFIABLE

I called the sexual assault hotline and spoke to a consoler on the phone last night.  I told her the story and asked if I had a right to be mad.  I was wondering if I was being a drama queen, or if I was correct in my new recognition of this event.  I told her that when I think of rape I think of some girl who gets jumped in the woods and is gang-banged or something….but this event also felt like it was so wrong.   She told me over the phone that I had every right to be angry.  She said this was a violation and that I wasn’t being a drama queen.

It felt good.  It felt really really good actually.  After having everyone tell me it was my fault the entire summer.  After having myself believe that it wasn’t a big deal and that it’s just something you have to go through as a gay person… it just felt amazing for someone to actually sit there and say, NO.  BE MAD.  You’re allowed to be mad.   There was such relief and such power in it.

So to anyone out there who has had something bad happen to them, BE MAD.  YOU ARE ALLOWED.  I don’t care if it was sexual assault, physical violence, emotional abuse, or anything else.  If someone has treated you like you’re sub-human, you can be mad.  It is your right to be mad.

And if anyone is dealing with a similar issue, please call a sexual assault hotline and just talk about it.  The woman who spoke to me was insanely nice.  They don’t judge or get mad at you.  You are free to talk about anything you want.

And furthermore if anyone is hurting for any reason remember that there are crisis lines all across the world.

Below is a link to all the crisis lines across the globe ALWAYS ALWAYS ALWAYS talk about it with people.  It helps so much:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_suicide_crisis_lines

 

I sincerely thank you for reading this post,

~ The Dark Horse

… sorry it wasn’t proofread well

Donald Trump Is Not My President

house

Standing up and fighting for your rights to live in a free country is an extremely important thing.

Right now I’m stuck living back in my hometown in Ohio.  The trash dump, redneck, backwoods of the USA.  Everyone I work with voted for Trump.   You will see people with giant Trump signs still in their yard (one man even string Christmas lights around his so it can now be seen from space).  The democrats here are still conservative by New England standards.    Basically there are two types of people here:

1.)  Crazy Trump supporters who just can’t wait for the Muslim registry to begin

2.) White democrats who don’t actually Trump enough to stand up to him  (Life must be so easy to be a straight, white, Christian huh?)

 

But I want to make it known that Im against Trump.  Granted, my one voice may be pointless. But perhaps multiple voices can come together and make change.

house1

 

Now for any Tump supporter I ask you, why did you vote for him?   (Honestly, feel free to respond in the comments section).

With all the racist, sexist, and cruel things he has said?

With his VP being an insane homophobe?

With Steve Bannon, a complete neo-nazi, on his cabinet?

With his crazy Twitter rants that seem more fit for a spoiled 7 year old?

His financial scandals?

Russia admitting they worked with the campaign?

I genuinely don’t get it.

The only answer I have to these questions is that you people must be either racist, sexist, homophobic, afraid of all countries other than America, hateful of all religions aside from your own, or a combination of the above.

If Im wrong please feel free to let me know.  And please give me real answers, not some bullshit about “All of that being made up by the left wing media”…which seriously guys….WTF.  That excuse is so old and based on no facts at all.

So until I get any information to change my views I will stand in solidarity with the Trump protesters.  He is not my president.

~ The Dark Horse

Hope. Its What We Have To Have

 

gay

 

So in the wake of Orlando I think its time to talk about hope.  As a gay guy from America I have to say this weekend killed me a little inside.    Not only was there a horrific attack against the LGBT community but now everyone and their fucking mother are trying to pretend like this had nothing to do with the gay community.

Dear straight religious people, at some point you’ll have to accept this was a product of the culture you’ve created and enforced.    Do you know what its called when there is a hate crime…. hate crime? hahaha…. this was actually a fucking massacre…. but anyways:

Do you know what its called when a hate crime is committed and everyone turns a blind eye?  Thats called OPPRESSION you cunts.

Was this man crazy?  Yes.  

And did he have access to guns because America is an insane shithole with flimsy laws?  Yes.

But would this attack have happened if this man was raised in a culture that didn’t teach him to hate gays?… Well now, there’s a question for you….

gay1

 

But enough about those cunts who are downplaying what just happened this post isn’t for them.  This post is about what to do now.

 

 

This is one of those instances that was about death.  We suffered and mourned the loss of 49 lives.  But after mourning comes an intense desire to live.

And thats exactly what I have.  I have a big fork in the road coming up in my life and dammit I want to make the most of it.

 

I want to live.  I want to really really live. I want to find love, adventure, friendship, joy, humor, and excitement! I want to make an impact on this world!  I want to finally stop being dragged through life and finally start actually living.  Because unfortunately, with the world we live in, you never know when you may be dancing at a club when all of the sudden you and everyone around are on the floor bleeding to death.  

 

Need some inspiration?   Ok well look at this:

gay3

This is Hawaii 

gay5

This is an actual castle in Germany

gay6

This is a real beach in Thailand 

Why are we looking at these?  Well because over the weekend we saw what horror, bloodshed, and hate looked like.   What we to remember is that there is still so much beauty in the world.   Life still holds meaning, joy, and love.   Adventure is still out there, its just waiting to be found.

Take all the pain and hurt from this weekend and lets mold it from mourning, into passion.    Remember to live life to the fullest.   To embrace every single moment because you never know when it may be your last.

Tonight before you go to bed, hug your mom.   Or your flatmate…  or fuck, hug your dog.   They love being hugged!   Just show someone you care.   Embrace and feel the love!

gay10

~ The Dark Horse

(I would have proofread this, but I was too busy looking at this picture of how amazing the world really is)

Wentworth Miller (Or Probably The Coolest Depressed Person In The World)

went

Ok now Im guessing most of you are thinking one of 3 things:

1.)  You’re saying, “Oh God, another gay, depressed, anxious person crushing on Wentworth Miller….. how annoying”.  To you I say: fuck you cunt.  And then Ill give you a big smack across the face.

2.) You’re saying, “Who is Wentworth Miller?”   To you people I say, (and in my giddiest -little-12-year-old-girl -crushing-on-someone voice)  OMG JUST KEEPING READING YOULL FIND OUT!

3.)  You’re like me, and are already saying, “OMG OMG OMG OMG WENTWORTH!!!!” (And then you melt into a puddle.  The kind of puddle that only Wentworth Miller can melt you into…. well Zac Efron does it too.  And Chad Michael Murray.   And that blonde guy from Twilight…. is that Callum Lutz?  Kellen Lutz?   Whatever, his name isn’t important, only his six pack and jawline are.

Anyhoo, I invite all of you to keep reading.  Especially if you’re anyone with depression, anxiety, panic, or any other slew of mental problems, or even people who are recovering from trauma.    Because Wentworth actually is a really good role model.

 

Ok so lets go back to the beginning.  Wentworth rose to massive fame as the star of the FOX show Prison Break.

went1

 

The show shot him up to celebrity status and made him an instant sex symbol.   However after Prison Break ended he started to keep a low profile and almost became a no-name until this picture hit the internet:

went2

Soon scandal was in the air and he became a joke in the tabloids.

 

However, in 2013 Wentworth began to take control of his life again.  In fact, he even came out in a very brave way.  Russia invited him to attend a film festival.  However, due to the lack of human rights in that country, especially towards the LGBT (LGBTQA?)  (LGBTQAI?)  (LGBTQQIP2AA?)  Good lord, come on gays, we need to get control of our acronym.

Anyways the letter said this:

went4

Following that letter, Wentworth went and spoke at the annual HRC Dinner and gave an amazing speech.  For the full speech check it out here:

 

In that speech he discussed his dealing with depression, mental illness, and even suicide.  So there it is people, even insanely sexy people like Wentworth Miller deals with the issues we deal with. He discussed about how hard it was to be closeted in Hollywood (which i can imagine is absolute hell) and talked about his struggle to come out.  The one line from that speech that I absolutely love is when he says: “When someone asked me if that was a cry for help, I said no, because I told no one. You only cry for help if you believe there’s help to cry for”.

That line always burns into me so deep and heavily.  I think we all know what its like to cry for help and have nobody hear us…. so after a while, we stop crying.  We hold it in.  We let it grow inside us.  We let it consume us.  We then let it become us.  We end up being the ugly grizzly mess that we tried so hard to eliminate by reaching out to others.

It is at that point that so many of turn to suicide.   That feeling is just too awful.  Too ugly and evil to live with.  And so people decide to not live with any longer.

 

But listen up people, here is where Wentworth made the change.  He opened up.   He decided to make it public.  He decided to reach out for help again.   And THAT IS WHAT WE ALL NEED TO LEARN TO DO.

Lets let that ugliness go.   Lets be better.  We are all pure, do you know that?  We are probably some of the purest people out there.  Why you ask?

 

Well, BECAUSE WE STILL FEEL. We are like children with hearts so big and open they are willing to feel it all.  The intense joys, but also the intense pains.  And unfortunately for most of us,  what we feel most of the time is the pain. 

Thats right.  We have not given in to the modern world.  Having a good body, an Instagram account, and a line of coke at a popular club isn’t enough for us.   We haven’t numbed ourselves down to the level of the commoner.  And people, never do!   I know right now you feel so much pain, but I PROMISE you that being able to feel the intense lows means you can also feel intense highs.

Remember the famous line from Teddy Roosevelt, “For those who fight for it life has a flavor the sheltered will never know”

Ok, now look at this face:

went6

and look at this one:

went7

and now look at this:

went9

This is the face of a man who has been suicidal, depressed, and forced to live a life that was a lie.   And is he still sexy?  FUCK YEAH HE IS!

So what does this mean for us?   Well, its inspiration.   Its proof that even though right now we all feel so old, so broken, and so dead inside…We can come out the other end and actually be healthy, beautiful, and ready to kick ass.

So what shall we do? ….

kick ass of course

went11

~ The Dark Horse

..Was this proofread?  I think maybe….I was kind of obsessing over Wentworth Miller so not sure how effective my proof reading was… WAIT WAIT OMG IS THAT WENTWORTH MILLER eating Twizzlers?

went10

OMG, no time to proofread I have to go… um…. take a really long shower!

My Life Just Had Another Movie Moment (WTF Is Happening Guys?)

risky

So recently I started writing blog posts about living life, not just being alive.  As someone with depression and anxiety I will tell everyone, my life has been hard, and that is mainly because (as any of you will know if you also have depression and anxiety) our social lives are pretty much the most fucked up things ever….or are non existent (which is the category I usually fall under).

So I’ve been talking about not giving a fuck and just going for it.   Living even though we usually don’t have a desire to live.

Now this is obviously hard as fuck, I won’t lie to any of you out there.  But isn’t it worth it if it means we can have lives?

We have nothing left to do but just get outside our prisons and live!

risky2

 

I recently met a backpacker here.  A cute straight guy from England who is here to travel and experience new things.

 

Over the past few days we’ve become pretty good friends and he’s been staying at my place.  Yesterday however was his last day here in Auckland before he starts traveling around the country.   Now, we’ve made plans to travel together and keep in contact…. but as any of you out there who knows what its like to be a social outcast… people’s words don’t mean much until they follow through.  We know better.  We know that 99.9% of the time we will never hear from them again and that we will go back to being alone as they go have their lives.

So I was pretty down all yesterday.   As the evening came we got into a big talk about life and what it means to be alone and miserable and what is “hope” and why have it and all the crazy shit that most people need to be drunk to talk about, but that I talk about quite regularly and nonchalantly.

So he says, “look, you have a bathtub and in my year of travel I haven’t had a bath and Im gonna take a bath, if you wanna talk we can leave leave the door open and we can keep chatting from the hallway”.    However, in my pissy mood I was obviously like, “no. I’m fine.  enjoy the bath”.

So he’s in the bathroom taking a bath and I’m just wandering around my apartment with thoughts filling my mind.

why don’t you ever just have fun?

Why are you being angry on your last night with a new friend?

Why does everything have to be a challenge?

why why why why why?

Then I just kinda snapped and decided I was going to act like a 26 year old for once.

risky3

So I open the bathroom door.

He looks at me, completely naked in the tub and is like, “So you’re ready to talk then?”

I walk into the bathroom and close the door.

I start to take my clothes off.

He looks at me and is like, “ugh….. are you getting in the tub or something?”

all i say is, “move over”

As he tries to say, “dude this is kinda gay”, its too late.  I’m now naked in the tub with him.

risky4

So there we were facing each other, legs intertwined, balls and dicks completely visible in the clear warm water.

He just looks at me and is like, “Where did that come from?”

I respond simply with, “I wanted to take a bath with my friend, so I am”.

He kinda looks at me, almost impressed, and asks, “Isn’t this kind of weird?”

I was just like, “I don’t think so, I think its relaxing.  If you think its weird well I don’t fucking care, get out of my tub”.

He just sits there looking at me with that kinda crooked half-smile straight guys have. He kinda laughs. Then he nods his head in approval and says, “You should say fuck it more often man”.

risky5

We just sat there for a little bit relaxing when he breaks the silence by saying, “your feet are touching my ass”.

once again I only respond with, “Yeah I know, but I don’t care, I’m comfortable”.

Then we just kinda sat there and started talking.  But not about all the negative shit like before.  it was just “stuff” I guess.  Favorite movies, where we wanted to go hiking, how good it felt to take a bath in so long (because I had actually never used my tub,i just shower, so it would have been a good 5 years since my last bath).

The rest of the night was super smooth.   We ate dinner, watched a movie and fell asleep in our underwear.  We woke up with morning wood.

We gave each other shit for having morning wood.  He called me gay, I told him not too worry, I could do better than him, we laughed.    It was just easy and nice.

risky6

All in all it was really non-sexual if that makes.  I never tried to make a move on him.  I didn’t ever have a desire to.  Like it was cool to get naked in a tub with him but not in a “OMG Im gonna fuck his ass tonight” kind of way.  It was more just like a, “Now I’ve seen him naked and he’s seen me naked… so there isn’t really anything to hide anymore” kind of way.  It felt like a bonding thing.

Same with the sleeping thing.  It was cool to be like, if we touch when we sleep it doesn’t matter.  I can feel comfortable with him.  I can wake up with a raging boner next to him and he isn’t gonna try to suck it or run away in fear of me trying to fuck him.   Its just like, were both guys.  Obviously were going to wake up with morning wood.  It just happens.

Yet there is an odd excitement to it.  Like you’re learning about someone.  You’re sharing experiences with someone.  You’re engaging in things that are normally private.  You have embarrassing things to know about them now, just as they do for you.

Dude being human is so weird isn’t it?

 

But going through that is like feeling closer to someone.  Doing things that to anyone else would see as homoerotic or weird, but since you both are comfortable with each other it isn’t weird to you.   And the fact that you go through those experiences together kind of bonds you in a way. You wonder if you’ll be judged, or if they will think its weird, or whatever, but then you learn they don’t…and you don’t.   And then you just feel comfortable to be yourself in other ways because you weren’t judged in even the most private senses, so why would they judge you in other ways?

Alright people, lush up a lather get take a bath with someone tonight!  See how it goes!

~ The Dark Horse

(This was a solid 35% proofread!)