All Things Happen For A Reason.

Hello everyone. Long time no talk. It has been a supremely long time since the last time I have posted and I do apologize for that. Frankly, I have been pretty scared to write. I have been feeling like I can't get my ideas out and when I can, my writing style just isn't what it used to be. It scared me to think that my writing had taken a turn for the worst, but then I came to this realization: this started as something for me.

This blog was created to help me get my ideas out. To allow me to look back and see how far I have come. In addition to that purpose, I have the ability to help others through shared ideas and sharing stories, but the main idea was for me to be able to see my problems and life laid out. I figured getting all my thoughts down in one concrete place allowed me to see it for what it truly was and evaluate it. And now, I get to look back on it.

It has been an amazing journey to look back on. In my time, I did a lot of complaining, crying, and ranting. I think back to when I started this blog as a 15 (turning 16) year old who was petrified of coming out to his parents, but was completely comfortable with himself. Maybe completely is a little advanced, but I think I was a bit ahead of the game for my age. I was out in high school, all my coworkers new, and frankly so did a couple of customers. I was thinking about moving away and being completely out and not in fear. Not worrying about anything getting back to my parents, etc. Just wishing for love to come my way.

Now, I'm 20, turning 21 in a couple of months. I live alone (more or less), am completely out of the closet, have had two relationships, about to get my bachelor's degree, and head off to grad school. Lately, this has all been incredibly surreal. To be this accomplished and this far ahead at my age! To know next year I will be moving into a bigger city, like I had wished for ages, to finish up my college career and start my big boy life. It makes looking back at my old self and old posts seem that much more significant to me.

Earlier today, this guy (my age) was messaging me on scruff. Being that he had no face in his profile, I assumed that he was not out if the closet. Most people don't respond to faceless profiles, but there is something about them that makes me want to. I guess it is the fact that I know that it means that they are not out of the closet and they might just be looking for someone go relate to them. Or just someone to talk or hang with. 7 times out ten they are just looking to hook up, but I always keep my eye open for that 30%. This guy happened to be part of that 30%.

As we were talking I he confirmed my suspicions that he had not been out of the closet and if he goes go East Stroudsburg University,  etc. In the midst of our conversation, we were talking about why he had not come out of the closet, yet. This young Hispanic man had the similar fears as I and many other gay people out there scared of coming out. My parents are religious. My parents will kick me out. My family will disown me. My friends won't like me anymore. Etc. Of course I talked him down, but this really hit home to me in this moment. It had really made me think. . .

I was explaining to him my coming out. Both of them. To my friends and to my family. Friends supported me and parents put me through hell. Forced me into moving out. Made me into the man I am today. The thing that really struck me was when I told him I had been outed. My aunt outed me while I was on the other side of the island. From there, my mother forced me to tell my dad. I told him, if I had it my own way, I would not have come out to them that soon. If my aunt had not have outed me, where would I be?

As furious as I was with my aunt, I guess I had never really thought about it that way. In some regard, she did me a favor. She ripped off the bandaid for me. I had went through about 5 months of hell on a day to day basis, but the scariest part was over. I knew what my parents were going to do and how they felt. There was no more ambiguity. No fear of the unknown. The most my parents could do was stop me from going out and lecture me all of the time. I feared my dad would kill me. Literally kill me. At that point, that fear was gone. It didn't make my life that much easier, but I knew what to expect! I began to mentally adapt myself for each lecture, but that was the most they were going to do.

If my aunt had not outed me, I couldn't say that I would have had the same amount of fun or have been as successful. I had a plan that I would not come out to them until I was done with school. Therefore, I wouldn't have any living expenses and I could just save all of my money. I would have never moved out, I probably would have been pledged a fraternity, I would probably have bought a brand new car like my brothers, I would not have lasted as long as I did with my ex, and I would have never dated my second ex. Without that experience, I would have never developed my interest in HIV. I may not have picked clinical psychology as my path for the future. I definitely would not be working at Rainbow Mountain, I would have stayed at Giant. I never would have met all if the people I have up to this point. I would have never met this guy that means the world to me right now. I wouldn't be as close to my friends. I wouldn't know how to cook as much. Or budget. I would not have my place.

I would probably still be that lonely kid who watched bear movies and gay storylines on YouTube. I would most likely be that guy attached to his Instagram, following all of the other gay guys and living vicariously through them. I would still be alone. I would still feel alone. I would still want to leave home. I would still live every day of my life in fear of the unknown. I would still live my life getting aggravated because I just want to be me, but I'm scared that my parents wouldn't like me anymore. I am so thankful that that is not the case.

Coming out is something that is unique to each person. There is no rush to it. It is not a race. A person should come out when it is most convenient to them and when they aren't in any danger. And when they do, no matter how it happens, I promise the weight that is lofted off of your shoulders is astronomical. Sometimes I still can't believe it. I never would have imagined that my life would be like this. I never worked at a gay resort. Shit, I had never even been to one! Not to mention a gay, nudist campground!

In closing, everything happens for a reason. It may not work out the way we had hoped it would from the start, but I promise you it will all work out. Just live your life in a "good vibes only" manner and I promise you the good times will follow right after.

~Be Breezy!~

All Things Happen For A Reason.

Hello everyone. Long time no talk. It has been a supremely long time since the last time I have posted and I do apologize for that. Frankly, I have been pretty scared to write. I have been feeling like I can't get my ideas out and when I can, my writing style just isn't what it used to be. It scared me to think that my writing had taken a turn for the worst, but then I came to this realization: this started as something for me.

This blog was created to help me get my ideas out. To allow me to look back and see how far I have come. In addition to that purpose, I have the ability to help others through shared ideas and sharing stories, but the main idea was for me to be able to see my problems and life laid out. I figured getting all my thoughts down in one concrete place allowed me to see it for what it truly was and evaluate it. And now, I get to look back on it.

It has been an amazing journey to look back on. In my time, I did a lot of complaining, crying, and ranting. I think back to when I started this blog as a 15 (turning 16) year old who was petrified of coming out to his parents, but was completely comfortable with himself. Maybe completely is a little advanced, but I think I was a bit ahead of the game for my age. I was out in high school, all my coworkers new, and frankly so did a couple of customers. I was thinking about moving away and being completely out and not in fear. Not worrying about anything getting back to my parents, etc. Just wishing for love to come my way.

Now, I'm 20, turning 21 in a couple of months. I live alone (more or less), am completely out of the closet, have had two relationships, about to get my bachelor's degree, and head off to grad school. Lately, this has all been incredibly surreal. To be this accomplished and this far ahead at my age! To know next year I will be moving into a bigger city, like I had wished for ages, to finish up my college career and start my big boy life. It makes looking back at my old self and old posts seem that much more significant to me.

Earlier today, this guy (my age) was messaging me on scruff. Being that he had no face in his profile, I assumed that he was not out if the closet. Most people don't respond to faceless profiles, but there is something about them that makes me want to. I guess it is the fact that I know that it means that they are not out of the closet and they might just be looking for someone go relate to them. Or just someone to talk or hang with. 7 times out ten they are just looking to hook up, but I always keep my eye open for that 30%. This guy happened to be part of that 30%.

As we were talking I he confirmed my suspicions that he had not been out of the closet and if he goes go East Stroudsburg University,  etc. In the midst of our conversation, we were talking about why he had not come out of the closet, yet. This young Hispanic man had the similar fears as I and many other gay people out there scared of coming out. My parents are religious. My parents will kick me out. My family will disown me. My friends won't like me anymore. Etc. Of course I talked him down, but this really hit home to me in this moment. It had really made me think. . .

I was explaining to him my coming out. Both of them. To my friends and to my family. Friends supported me and parents put me through hell. Forced me into moving out. Made me into the man I am today. The thing that really struck me was when I told him I had been outed. My aunt outed me while I was on the other side of the island. From there, my mother forced me to tell my dad. I told him, if I had it my own way, I would not have come out to them that soon. If my aunt had not have outed me, where would I be?

As furious as I was with my aunt, I guess I had never really thought about it that way. In some regard, she did me a favor. She ripped off the bandaid for me. I had went through about 5 months of hell on a day to day basis, but the scariest part was over. I knew what my parents were going to do and how they felt. There was no more ambiguity. No fear of the unknown. The most my parents could do was stop me from going out and lecture me all of the time. I feared my dad would kill me. Literally kill me. At that point, that fear was gone. It didn't make my life that much easier, but I knew what to expect! I began to mentally adapt myself for each lecture, but that was the most they were going to do.

If my aunt had not outed me, I couldn't say that I would have had the same amount of fun or have been as successful. I had a plan that I would not come out to them until I was done with school. Therefore, I wouldn't have any living expenses and I could just save all of my money. I would have never moved out, I probably would have been pledged a fraternity, I would probably have bought a brand new car like my brothers, I would not have lasted as long as I did with my ex, and I would have never dated my second ex. Without that experience, I would have never developed my interest in HIV. I may not have picked clinical psychology as my path for the future. I definitely would not be working at Rainbow Mountain, I would have stayed at Giant. I never would have met all if the people I have up to this point. I would have never met this guy that means the world to me right now. I wouldn't be as close to my friends. I wouldn't know how to cook as much. Or budget. I would not have my place.

I would probably still be that lonely kid who watched bear movies and gay storylines on YouTube. I would most likely be that guy attached to his Instagram, following all of the other gay guys and living vicariously through them. I would still be alone. I would still feel alone. I would still want to leave home. I would still live every day of my life in fear of the unknown. I would still live my life getting aggravated because I just want to be me, but I'm scared that my parents wouldn't like me anymore. I am so thankful that that is not the case.

Coming out is something that is unique to each person. There is no rush to it. It is not a race. A person should come out when it is most convenient to them and when they aren't in any danger. And when they do, no matter how it happens, I promise the weight that is lofted off of your shoulders is astronomical. Sometimes I still can't believe it. I never would have imagined that my life would be like this. I never worked at a gay resort. Shit, I had never even been to one! Not to mention a gay, nudist campground!

In closing, everything happens for a reason. It may not work out the way we had hoped it would from the start, but I promise you it will all work out. Just live your life in a "good vibes only" manner and I promise you the good times will follow right after.

~Be Breezy!~

Love Not Lust?

Okay, so this whole morning, I have been indulging myself in videos and other blogs based on open relationships. (Okay, maybe some porn surfing on tumblr, too) This idea has been floating around in my head ever since I broke up with my first boyfriend, I believe. I don't even think I was fully aware of it up until that point, which shocks me because I've seen the BearCity movies about a hundred times and it features open relationships and polyamorous relationships. For the sake of my own sanity and for not offending anyone, I think I am going to split my post on this. Originally, I thought this post was going to include the ideals of monogamy, open relationships, and polyamory, but somehow it just does not feel right anymore. I guess down this path of unwinding thoughts and bottled up feelings, I will figure out my answer. Sit up straight class, and pay attention! Professor Parsley's class is in session. (I can't wait for that to be a reality!)

Ever since I have broken up with my first boyfriend, I feel like my world has expanded three times over. This baffles me. I used to think I was extremely well versed and I guess understood the workings of most things, when in fact I remained ignorant. I knew of a lot of things, but I never really knew to what extent they functioned or even how they functioned or even moreso, what they actually mean.

In my research, online and in person, I've learned that quite a few people indulge in open relationships. This passed summer, I started working at a gay resort called Rainbow Mountain, and this was the best experience I've ever had. Granted, there were definitely some times that made me want to blow the place up, but overall a good experience and I couldn't imagine where my head would be if I hadn't started working there. I don't think I would be as developed or far along as I would have been if I hadn't worked there. I say that because this was the first time I have ever been fully surrounded by other gay people on a constant basis and it had definitely taught me things. It was also a huge confidence booster, but mainly taught me things.

I think in my time there, I have seen more open relationships than I have seen closed. I was constantly being introduced to couples, obviously more couples than singles, and I would come to the realization that they were open due to their tendencies inside and out of the main building where I checked them in. For every one closed relationship I met, I probably met three or four open relationships. Even now, this still astounds me. I think what I question most of all, is why that still astounds me and what does this mean for me.

Obviously, the main reason as to why it astounds me is because I was raised with a different ideal, as I'm sure everyone else was, too. However, it goes beyond that for me. When I was first coming to accept my homosexuality, I would watch gay weddings, marriage proposals, and a channel called Gay Family Values where I would watch a family with two fathers raise their children and tackle topics of everyday life. In all of these videos, nothing led me to believe that anything else was possible, which was very ignorant and naive of me to think. In those videos, I think I pushed myself to see myself in those representations of gay people. Marrying one man, having kids, a pup(dog), and living happily ever after. In those videos, I never saw anything else possible, which at the time, I was okay with. I think I knew, for the most part, that ultimately this was what I wanted.

In those videos, the idea of open relationships were never brought up. In that same instance, looking back I think they were almost frowned upon. But now, it makes me wonder if that were entirely true. All of those videos focused on being "proper" gays and setting a representation for gay people and standing up for rights. They were always talking about what we all ultimately wanted and that was equality and the ability to love without fear. That being said, why would I believe that they were in open relationships or that they could even exist?

Now I know that that isn't entirely true. Not all gay people want the same thing. Just as straight people don't. Not every women wants to get married and have kids. Some people are perfectly content with being single, or having a relationship and a puppy. Point is, we are all different and we all have different levels of satisfaction. And that is okay.

As for why it still may astound me? I don't exactly know. I think because I still hold onto those ideals from when I was younger. Part of me has more hope to see a relationship that stands strong in monogamy. Not to mean that other couples that are open aren't strong, but to stand out amongst the crowd in my belief makes you strong. When I see these cute couples, even though part of me wants to play with them, the other part wants to just hang with them and watch their love grow together. I think I saw that for the first time a couple of weeks ago.

On New Years Eve, there was a big Rainbow Mountain dinner. The restaurant was insane. The front desk (where I work) was even crazier. Aside from all the madness, there was an older couple who checked in and we're SUPER nice; their clothes even matched! After they sat for dinner, the one gentleman walks out of the restaurant in such distress and turns to me for conversation. In the midst of me being busy, I caught his distress and attempted to comfort him. He tells me that he is ready to propose to his boyfriend. At this moment, every bit of stress left me and I just gave him a big teary eyed hug. At this moment, not only was I happy for this man and his boyfriend, but I developed such a hope that that could be me one day. Proposing to one man and us tackling life together. And only together. Like I said, after all of the open relationships I had seen, this shocked me.

What does this mean for me? It may complicate things in a sense. Or it might simplify them. This means clarifying what exactly I want to do in a relationship. It means that I may have to be prepared to have that conversation someday. In some ways, this is good. Having an open relationship does open the door to further conversations. I believe that the only way for open relationships, among all other ones, only prosper due to healthy conversations. I would hope that a lot more of these couples have a healthy channel of communication. One that does not seem healthy is the "don't ask don't tell" method.

I could never see that format working for me. I would want to know who my partner is playing with and that he's being safe about it. I know two couples that follow this method, and it astounds me that they're still together. One seems to bash his partner for being "prudish" so he won't tell him things. In the other, one partner had contracted HIV, didn't tell his partner (or possibly didn't know) had sex with his partner, and he contracted it. The partner whom I knew (whom contracted it second) believed he contracted it from his husband. Again, absolutely astounds me.

I would never like to be in a relationship like these. Granted, they are still together and they work, but I would want to be open with my partner. If he didn't want to do it or I didn't, I would expect the other to accept that and not bash the other. If we were open, I would expect us to lay down ground rules and be open about what's happened. That's what this would mean for me.

Being in a relationship is difficult sometimes. I could never describe it as work. It is more of an art that you must provide constant attention to and practice. Being in an open relationship could be even more difficult because more conversations and adjustments must be had. For me, I don't know if I could be in an open relationship. It takes the right guy I guess.

Stop Minding Mine.

Okay, I've about had it. I've been putting off this post for a little while, and mainly just out of laziness and lack of experience. I figured one or two people opening their mouths doesn't mean much to me, but now I'm over it and it's time to speak up. Fighters, take your corners and prepare to fight. Keep your guard up, cause I'm going in.

Since I was young, I've had this attraction towards older men. I can remember a time in my life when I used to look at twink porn (skinny, young, hairless guys) because that was all I knew. It was when I was first figuring out what the word "gay" had even meant. So I was probably around the age of 10 or 11. (Yes, I was an early bloomer. . .) Don't get me wrong, it still got the job done, just not as well as the bears do.

Probably a year or so after that, I found the bear community and all its inhabitants. Immediately, I was hooked. I knew this was what I liked and what I was interested in. I even identified this persona (to some degree) with my junior high school music teacher and developed a crush for him. At this point I was around 11 or 12. This crush lasted until I had moved over into the high school and developed other crushes. Some on students and some on teachers.

So for as long as I can remember I have had this attraction for guys that are older than me. And obviously, we're not talking about guys that are about 2 - 4 years older than me. No, we're talking about men the same age as my dad or as my friends' parents. Coaches, gym teachers, teachers, friends' dads, random guys, etc. All guys that at that point were waayy too old for me (and for that matter, anyone who wasn't relatively MY age was too old for me at that point!).

At this point, I wasn't even out of the closet. Hell, I was hardly even out to myself at this point. I was still petrified of what everyone would think of me, how it would affect the future I wanted at this point, who would still be my friend, etc. You know, all of the fun stuff that we all went through before the government declared that everyone could have a civil right and the majority of the world got their shit together!

I didn't come out until my sophomore year in high school; The second semester. And even then I was still guided by fear. I was scared to talk about being gay, still apprehensive to tell certain people, still feeling wierd about it, and still lying about who I was attracted to. When people asked who I found to be attractive, I wanted to sprint straight to the most common answer - the one that was still very mainstream. You know, people like Matt LeBlanc, Hugh Jackman, and Ben Affleck, etc. It wasn't until I found community through my Instagram (and my best friend's disregard for my privacy) that I even became brave enough to to admit it. Actually, let's be real. It wasn't out of bravery, I was backed into a corner. (Those aca-bitches)

My brother (best friend) had went through my tablet one day while he was sleeping over and discovered some downloaded files of some of my favorite bear porn scenes. He asked me and I had no choice but to play it off and admit it. That was rough. When he asked me, all I wanted to do was crawl into a hole and never be seen. He was laughing out of what I'm sure would have been awkwardness, but it certainly did not feel great. However, right after that, we both laughed it off and talked about it a little bit and it got better.

A little bit later, friends started to confront and ask me about what I was liking on my Instagram feed. On instagram, you can switch to a feed which shows what your friends are following and they had happened to see the abundance of tummy tuesday posts and risqué shots of these hairier, chubbier, older guys (not even that old). Again, backed into a corner. And these bitches weren't even considerate about it! They came kind of in little groups and I just kind of played coy as if it was known and I didn't care. Right at that point, I started less and less.

From that point on, it became a lot easier to tell everyone that I had liked bears. Eventually, the bear category expanded to the daddy category as well and it took up until the middle of last year or so until I became completely comfortable with who I was attracted to. I remember my first ex found out that I liked older daddies and he did nothing but poke fun at me for it and constantly announced it to everyone we were in front of. It was annoying. He was poking fun and making light of it, meanwhile this wasn't something that I was ready to talk about or anything, but I was too scared to say anything. So I continued to shrivel up and just brush it off quickly.

Soon after we broke up, I gained more bravery and pride in who I was and who I was attracted to. I learned that it was my life and if I succumbed to the fear of what everyone else or to who society thought I should be dating, then it wouldn't be my life I'm living, it would be theirs. I had my own apartment, my own social circle, my own strength.

Soon after, I met my previous ex. I haven't talked much about him, but that'll be for another posting. We dated two or so months after I broke up with my last ex, and we broke up after two and a half months. (Give or take) It was a short relationship, but I learned A LOT from him. Being with him gave me a lot of strength, inner and outer. I started less and less to give a fuck about what people thought about me, I became less ignorant, and he taught me it was okay to be EXACTLY who I was.

That guy didn't give a fuck who was watching. He stuffed food in his mouth, dripped shit all over his clothes, and pulled out his belly wherever he wanted. He told me stories about older guys he had sex with and we would point out hot daddies together and he had fun just showing me around the bear scene. I couldn't have thanked him enough for that. He gave me a lot more than what I ever believed.

Beyond that, I started working at a gay resort. Working there has been the experience of a lifetime for me. I've met soo many nice people, old and young, and they've taught me so much. One of my coworkers as well. We had actually hooked up at the beginning of this year and he got me the job. At first, I thought he was a real dick and I wanted nothing but to punch him square in the face. But as everything slowed down, we got to talk on a more personal level, which I like. I've stopped being as coy with him and kind of revealed that I can be just as vulgar as he can, however, not as far as he can.

Between my coworker and my previous ex, they've taught me not to give a fuck, be more forward, and to own yourself. Guys find me attractive. A lot of them! Own it. It's not being conceited, it's the truth. You want to be with someonr, go talk to them. No one is going to hold your hand. And what is the worst they are going to do, "say no?" And finally, who cares about what anyone thinks. People are always going to talk, and all you can do is give them something to talk about. Again, "if you let others dictate your life, you're not living your life, you're living theirs. And they have the power to destroy it."

Which leads me to now. Now, I'm crushing on older men, younger men, chubbier guys, skinnier guys, students, staff, gay, straight, single, or partnered. I just don't care. Amongst all of my experiences, I've learned to own who I am and who I'm attracted to. If I point out a guy that I find to be attractive and my friends say "eeewww," I shrug it off. "Psht, that's fine, I'd fuck him! He could get it!" Everyone else gets to date who they want to, and I always don't think they're the most attractive people around, so why shouldn't I get to?

The problem that I am writing about today is about people trying to throw who I am attracted to back at me. Like I said at the beginning, I'M OVER IT.

What I wrote above shows the amount of effort it even took me to get this far! To get to a point where I feel comfortable announcing who I'm sleeping with or what I'm doing. I refuse to allow anyone to take that away from me. My brother thinks this guy that I have an immense amount of feelings for is too old for me, that's cool. HE and my other brother (best friend) are about the only ones, and my sister sometimes) who kind of have a say, but even then it gets overruled. I can't help who I like or crush on, but I can control my actions. And my actions are to go out with them (in any sense of the term).

This is partially the reason why my exes and I aren't friends. Either of them. During arguments, they both had this tendency to throw the fact of me liking older men into my face as if I'm some kind of sick freak. As if these crushes will get me absolutely nowhere and these daddies only want one thing from me. First off, depending on the daddy I only want one thing out of him as well! Just a good time and a good vibe! Not every fucking daddy I encounter has to be a fucking gentleman. Sometimes, and could be most of the time, these encounters are just a good vibe and a good time. Nothing more. Others, I do seek out friendships and something more. But if they do not want that, then they either tell me up front or I ask them. And for the God's sake, just because I like daddies does NOT mean I have daddy issues. (Enter my friend Caitie's best side eye)

It is my life and my perogative. I do what I want, who I want, and when I want. No one else can tell me how to dictate my life. I refuse to hand back over the reigns. I've seen plenty of relationships that involved a younger man and a guy twice his age or more and they work fine. Sure, there are definitely factors that everyone must think of when engaging in any relationship, but that doesn't make it wrong. OR disgusting!

If I were to be dating someone who was older than me (and I always have) I make it known that I do not give a fuck about the age difference and that I am not in the relationship to be coddled, babied, or taken care of. Not that I will be doing any of that, but I am in a relationship as equals. You pay for dinner and then I pay for dinner. We split this in half, EVENLY. Don't worry about my financial situation or anything, I've got myself covered. I am a big boy and I can take care of myself. I don't need nor do I want my daddy boyfriend to somehow become my father. One of my exes used to do this. Try to teach me something all the time. It got old, very quick. Don't take my age for a weakness, and I won't take yours for advantage.

That's all for this post everyone! Hope I didn't bore anyone, just had to get it out. With this post, let us realize that not everyone is the same. We all have different likes and attractions and that is okay. As long as you mind your business, I will mind mine.

~Be Breezy!~

Your Favorite Kind of Fuckboy.

Let's start this post by clearing up exactly what the term "Fuckboy" even means. I just looked it up to see if the meaning has changed since the last time that I did, and what do you know - it did. When I first looked it up, it meant essentially a modern day "playa". Currently, it reads as the worst kind of man imaginable. A guy that represents the worst trends and "isn't bout shit."

My definition of Fuckboy is kind of a mix between the two. To me, a fuckboy is a guy who plays games and doesn't want a relationship or anything, but doesn't make it clear with any of the, for lack of a better word, hoes or bimbos that all he's up for is fucking. Me, I'm the cool kind of fuckboy. In my opinion, I'm the kind of Fuckboy that people WISH they had. I won't quote the title, but I'm the best kind of Fuckboy there could be.

I'm the kind of Fuckboy doesn't play games. I'm not into them. I'm at the point in my life where I don't want to play them. Not that I ever really had, and seeing the games be played doesn't make me want to play them any more so. Even when I was young I never really dated; I was always quick to get into a relationship (not that I was in very many relationships) because I knew I liked this person, so why am I holding off on making them mine? I've come to learn that that is not something that you rush, but I don't want to play games.

Playing games requires a lot of extra work and frustrations AND time. All of which either isn't worth it or I don't have. I realize that it can be very hard to not play games. The whole wait three day rule game, or see who will text who first. Trust me, I get how sometimes these games can seem like they will provide you with an answer, but all it will do it drive your brain insane and fuel anger. How will the other person know they're involved in a game? You're essentially setting them up for failure! And then on top of that, you're going to be blaming them for a failure they didn't even know was being committed! Ergo, I don't play games.

I'm the best kind of fuckboy because I'm honest. Most of the other fuckboys that exist don't. They manipulate, cheat, and deceive. Now I'm not saying I'm a saint because that is FAR from the truth. I'm just saying that I'll be real with you. Part of my new year's resolution to myself was to start being honest. I was tired of always lying to cover things up and to protect feelings. I've learned better. You can't always protect people's feelings; however, you can save them a lot of turmoil by just being honest.

If I don't like you, I'm going to make it very apparent to you. I'm not going to feed you false comments and pretend. If I don't like you, I will either straight out tell you, or be sarcastic about it. If I solely just want to have sex with you, I will be as apparent as I can be. I will flirt, I will take off clothes, and I will grab. I won't play the texting game with you and nor will I chase you down to figure out what time of day will work. If you want to play the game of someone chasing after you, then play it elsewhere because I don't want to play.

I know what my schedule is like and I can make pretty accurate guesses about things that happen around me. I don't believe anyone to have a busier schedule than I, unless you've got two or three little tots at home. I will not chase you down and I will not text you everyday to see if you're available. I will try three times at most, but then I'm done. If you've blown me off three times in a row, then fuck it. I've been told that if you're chasing someone and they don't chase you back, then they aren't worth your time. I'm really starting to see it.

It isn't a cocky thing either, it is just knowing what you're worth. Evidently I'm a pretty damn good looking guy, at least that's what people keep telling me, so why would I keep chasing someone who doesn't set aside time for me?! Honestly, fuck that! I'll find someone else who has their life in a better grip to fuck with. Sorry bout it.

Thirdly, if I want to be with you, I will fucking let you know. I don't think I've ever had an experience quite like this before. Where I know that I am not ready for a relationship, yet I want to spend my time with one particular guy. I had a bit of a hookup with this other guy who was very nice and he seemed to think that I was very taken by him. I told him flat out that that was not the case. He was a nice guy and all, but I have just my eyes set somewhere else. And I've told a multitude of people that. If I like you, I will let you know! This guy who I do feel very taken by, started out as just a very good friendship. (For the most part) We had great sex and I always had such a great time being around him. Skipping over a lot of bs, I find myself to now where I very much like him and I've straight out told him. I was leaving his house one day and I was very annoyed with how the morning was going, so I told him. I turned around and told him that I wanted to date him. I don't want to be his friend, nor do I want to be someone he just plays with. I want to know that this is going somewhere and I am not just getting angry and putting thought and emotion into something that will be going nowhere.

Like I said above, I don't have the time nor the patience for bs. I don't want to play games and I don't want to beat around the bush. I know what I want in my life right now. People who don't know what they want as of right now need to stay the fuck out of my way. Or don't, but I'll tell you what I want and you can take it from there.

It's not me being a dick, it's just me controlling my life. If you're being an idiot, I'll let you know. If you're saying something stupid, I'll let you know. If I think you're good looking I'll let you know. If I want to have sex, I will let you know. If I want something more, I will let you know. All I ask in return is that you be honest with me and you let me know how you feel. If you don't want to be with me, let me know. If you don't want to have sex, let me know. If you're not interested in me, just let me fucking know.

Be transparent. Be real. I promise I won't be too mad at you. Initially I will be a little annoyed, but at least I won't be wondering what the fuck is going on! I'll do you that favor, so just give it back. Most people WISH they had that! I'm the best kind of fuckboy. *Drops Mic*

Stop Lying.

I want to stop lying. To you. And you. And you. And especially to you. How long can I keep this up? I'm not doing anyone any favors. I want to stop lying. I hope I can. I think I'll start tonight, even though I kind of started two days ago. I'm petrified. I feel like these lies have gotten me this far, and taking them back might mean something bad. And I don't know how much more bad I can really take. Let me keep this short and to the point.

I'll start with you. I'm sorry I lied to you. We've gone through a lot. Adventures that people our ages couldn't imagine doing and people twice our age dreamt they could do. We were in love. We laughed. We fought. We yelled. We screamed. We kissed good night. We gave stuff up for each other. We fell apart. We're not friends.

For a while I had doubted our relationship. And for a while I had lied to you. I cheated on you. I can't even say just once. I did it multiple times. I did it because I knew we wouldn't have sex and it infuriated me. You either pushed me away or I had to thoroughly chase you and I never got chased back and I was fed up. I didn't even feel bad after a while. It just became something I felt I had to do.

The other night, I told you I didn't care about you. I didn't lie, but I was crude. I told you I didn't care about you, I took advantage of you, I manipulated you, and I didn't care. I knew I could get what I wanted out of you, so I did. I didn't even feel remorse for it. It was fucking with you, and I knew it. I knew it and I did it anyways.

To you, I'm sorry.

I want to stop lying to you, too.

I met you about two years ago. We met on grindr. We talked for a long time. Even talked over the phone. You were in a horrible spot. Hated your job, you were living with your ex and you could never have people over, etc. We tried to hook up multiple times, and we just never made it happen. Fast forward two years.

We reconnected after my break up. Finally. Somehow, I was hoping I'd run into you. We chatted for maybe 10 minutes. Very brief. I invited myself over and we connected very quickly. Very easily. I fell for you. Very easily and very quickly. I kept trying to tell myself not to fall so hard because I didn't think you'd like me back, but I did.

I'm sorry I told you I didn't think we should date. Every day I kick myself because of it.  Every day I wonder where would I have been if I had actually dated you. I thought we vibed very well together. I thought I saw a couple flaws between us and I let them scare me away, but I wish I hadn't. I don't think I'm in love with you because I've distanced myself enough to not get there, but I always get these deep feelings brought back whenever I think about you.

I lied to you. Maybe not directly, but by not speaking up. I should have told you how I felt. Told you the type of feelings I had developing for you. I should have told you how angry it made me when I felt like I was the only one making plans with you. I should have told you how angry it made me because it felt like you could never make time for me or how I never felt special because of it. What pushed me away was your inability to make me feel special and wanted. Maybe not wanted, but needed. I really like you. Immensely, but I'm scared to tell you because I feel like it won't be reciprocated or maybe I've missed my shot.

For that, I'm sorry.

I want to stop lying to you.

You are such a special person. Such a rare person. So strong willed. Strong minded. Strong in general. You always keep kicking. There have been tons of forces that would have told many to give up and turn off the light, but not you. You have this light, this fire that burns. Burns bright. And no matter how dim it gets, you always turn it back on somehow. You're funny, you're witty, you're smart, and you are going to go far. But maybe not with me.

I've lied to you. For a while now. Longer than I thought I had. Sometimes not intentionally. It sucks because I really like you and we have such a great time together, but it's pretty clear that we're not meant to be.

The other day, you told me you were falling for me. I've been almost dreading the moment that you were going to say that. I've been dreading it because I don't feel the same way, and I don't think I ever will. From the moment we met, you'd been talking about me in this special light. A light that is clearly different from the light I see you in. You say things like, "You've known all along" or "From the moment I saw you". Meanwhile I say things like, "I love when you" and "you, too".

I don't see you in that light. Part of that I blame on myself for not listening to you. For a while you had been telling me that we can't say certain things to each other because it will feel more like we are friends more so than we are boyfriends, and you were right. I feel like we work better as friends than we do as boyfriends. We make fun of each other, call each other hunty, etc. And it has somehow pushed you into the friend zone with me.

If I'm being totally honest, the lies don't stop there. I haven't enjoyed our sex life, or lack there of. I know we'd been easing our way into things, but I hadn't been having a lot of fun along the way and I lied to you when we finally accomplished something and I said I enjoyed it. To be honest, I couldn't enjoy myself because my focus was elsewhere and I couldn't keep going.

As shallow as it sounds, sex is a big part of my life, and I enjoy it. I want to enjoy having sex with the person I like and eventually love, but whatever we were doing wasn't it. And then we don't vibe well sexually. As much as we vibe well everywhere else, I never felt as though we could make it happen sexually. This pushed me to cheat. Sex already wasn't readily available to me and I didn't necessarily enjoy it when it was, so I sought it elsewhere. I wish I could say I only did it once, but I didn't. I wish I could say that I wish I could be the one for you, but I can't, and I shouldn't waste any more of your time.

For that, I'm sorry.

Lastly, I want to stop lying to you. You are the most important person in my life. You are my absolute favorite person. Of all the people I should be honest with, you should be at the top of the list. At the beginning of the year, I told you I would stay true to you. Listen to your heart and follow everything that would make you happy. Good Vibes and good times. But I went back on that.

I'm not proud of myself. I'm not proud of you, whoever you are. Because of what I've done, you are not who I necessarily wanted you to be. For two months, I lied to you and drove you into this rut. This rut filled of fear, anxiety, solitude, hunger, etc. From that, I let you get talked into bad jobs, things you weren't ready for, and scary situations. I let you have a panic attack. Even passed that, I made you go back and have another one. I made you pull over to the side of the road and cry to your friend at 7 in the morning. I made you beat yourself up day in and day out for an hour until you got to your destination and then for12 more hours.

Now I've got you trapped between three guys. One whom you want almost nothing to do with. One you wish you could be the one for. And one you truly want to be with, but don't feel like could be with you. I feel like I don't even know what to tell you. I feel like I don't even know where to tell you to go next or what to do next.

For that, I'm sorry.

I want to do better. I want to start telling the truth. To you. And you. And you. And especially you. I hope I can somehow make you proud of me again.

Starting Over as Friends.

This post is in addition to the one I posted last night. I did a quick recap of where I left off in life, and where I am. In this post, I hope to further explain where I am in life, and hopefully clear some thoughts up in my own mind. Let's start from the break up.

Me and my ex broke up about two weeks into December. It had killed me to do it, but I had to end it. It sucked even more to ruin the holidays for the both of us, but I couldn't go into a new apartment with the feelings I had. I had held it in as long as I could, but I had to set myself free. Not only me, but him, too. Staying in that relationship would have meant deceiving him. It would have meant keeping him from finding who he was supposed to be with. It was keeping him in something that was going no where fast.

Like I said, it killed me to have to do it. I had to take a lot into account. I had to think about how it would make me feel, make him feel, the apartment, our Christmas presents, our families, our relationship as a whole, etc. I think at first, what hurt most was that I couldn't explain how I felt to him and he had to go off of whatever I could say in the moment. I hated to think that he thought I was just being selfish and did this all for myself. I actually even wrote a letter beforehand. It was a peculiar writing. It was addressed to both him and myself at the same time. In it, I explained how I was feeling, and what I might want to say to him. The letter hit all of the points I ever wanted it to. All the way to the nitty gritty parts. It allowed me to explain to him as best I could in that moment, however, it was far from done.

The whole night, we spent crying and fell asleep in each other's arms. The next day rolled around and I got up early, still in disbelief of what I had just done and of my new reality. I managed to keep myself together when I got to my parents house and explained to them what happened. Thankfully, my parents have come a long way. I remember just blurt in it out to my mom because I knew if I didn't say it as soon as I saw her, I wasn't going to be able to do it. She and I sat down for a while and I explained everything to her and what I was going to do next. She totally understood and was even proud of me for making the decision that I had made. Most people don't have the courage or maturity to do what I did and therefore end up in terrible falling outs. Thankfully, I ended things before they had gotten that far.

I was petrified to tell my father. We hadn't talked much about being gay after I had moved out. He had been around my ex, but it was never spoken about. I kind of preferred it that way; if it wasn't brought up, there was no potential for dirty looks or snide comments. However, this was different. We had a very grown up man to man talk. Kind of like the father son talk I always imagined having. We talked and I explained to him what happened and he, too, was proud of me.

After the visit to the parental units, I went to go see my brother, and best friend, Brian. He had been aware that this night was coming, so it came as no shock to him. I explained what happened and I remained calm for the most part. He had actually told me I had been handling it very well. I think that was the breaking point for me. I couldn't believe how I might have seemed. How could I be okay after what I had just done? How could I even muster a smile when my ex was probably at home crying his eyes out. I think I tried to explain what happened once I read the letter and I lost it.

For a while, me and my ex still lived together. Probably about two and a half weeks. Those had to be two of the worst weeks I had experienced since coming out to my parents. Everytime I had tried to talk to my ex, all I got was attitude and one word answers. I was constantly trying to make sure that he was okay and see what he was thinking. I knew what he was thinking. He was hurt. He was angry. He was confused. One day he thought we were fine. The next, I wanted to break up with him.

I knew I had to give him space, so I tried to keep myself busy and out of the apartment so he had time to think and such. I still had trouble letting go of passed habits and it caused a lot of anamosity out of him. I continued to use nicknames and wanted to text him, but he made it very clear to me that those actions were not allowed. Therefore, I decided I just had to suck it up.

I thought I had to endure the pain he inflicted on me. I thought I deserved it. Someone who did what I did didn't deserve to be happy or even deserve his forgiveness and friendship. For a while I let him walk over me and let those thoughts linger in my head, but soon enough, I learned better. I knew that I did nothing wrong. I was a good person. I did what I did out of love and to let love continue somewhere else. I didn't deserve the way he was treating me, and now I was standing up against that.

I think the last straw was when he wanted to split up the possessions. I had been trying to have any kind of conversation with him for days, but he would ignore me and shut me out all the time. I think I was already a wee bit peeved with him for some reason, but I left to go get a haircut, to then have him call me back to split the stuff up. At this point, I was livid. I remember storming back to the apartment furious and he just looked so smug. It looked as if he knew I was infuriated, and this was his way of getting under my skin. I'm sure that wasn't his intention, but in that moment, he could have fooled me.

He was going down this list that he had put together and he was just going down as if he couldn't wait to have this over with and leave. I was so infutiated, it didn't matter to me what he had took. He could have taken everything in the place, and I wouldn't have stopped him because I believed I deserved it and that this was the end of it between us. From that moment on, I wasn't taking anymore of his shit.

Probably a week after that, he and our previous neighbor decided they were ready to move him in. I was at work and did not know this conversation had happened. As far as I knew, he wasn't moving I to the other apartment until the beginning of the year. While I was at work, he decided he would move his stuff out, assuming that he had hoped to be done before I got here. I came home to him, his sister, and her friends helping him move and my possessions all over the place.

At this point, infuriated was an understatement. I was hurt. Truly hurt. I felt betrayed, and I felt insulted. I couldn't believe someone whom I had spent the passed year and a half and giving him all the love I could, could do this to me. Everything up to this point. The worst part was I knew that he was capable of it. All of what previous people said about him were true. I knew it. I always did. I just figured he'd never be that way to me. But I was wrong, and now I've learned my lesson.

I probably stayed there for a good twenty minutes trying to seem calm and as if nothing was bothering me. His sister sought a moment to try to even console me. I even offered to help. After that twenty-first minute, I had to leave. I couldn't stand it any longer. I couldn't stand him any longer. I went to my parents house without telling anyone. Only my brother was there and I told him what happened. I was done.

Later that evening, my ex finally texted me to see if I was okay. Of course I lied and said, "I'm fine, not that you care." Long story short, I basically told him that I didn't deserve the way he was treating me and how much it hurt me. My ending point, "It never really matters what you think you did. Just what the other person feels like you did."

When I got home, he was in tears. I was sitting on the floor, folding the clothes that were everywhere, and basking in what was left in the apartment to be mine. What was left? Two couches (which one served as my bed), the TV stand/space heater, the kitchen utensils, and a picture of us in the bedroom that had Mr. and Mr. above it. I had literally let him take everything. It didn't matter to me. all I wanted was for him to like me. For him not to hate me. For us to be able to move passed this point.

He apologized for everything that he had done in the passed few weeks. He had treated me like the enemy and like someone who cheated on him and threw him out on the street. He treated me as if I had done something morally wrong to him. What I did was put him first. What I did, was make a mature decision that would result in the best for us. But he didn't see that. At this point, he did. And all he could do was look at me sit on the floor and imagine how I must have felt. All he could do from that point on was remember the monster that had did that to the person he once called his true love.

Weeks had passed by of us just trying to behold each other's company. I tried to make him breakfast, and that was awkward. Everything we did was awkward, even the sex. Yeah, we did that. I'm not proud of it, but I did.

It lasted for probably all of two weeks and then I decided I did not want to continue with that arrangement. I felt dirty. I didn't feel right as a person. I felt like some hookup that was just toyed with and then tossed away. I didn't feel like someone who he had loved. I felt like another quick fuck. So I ended it.

Weeks and a couple of big boy conversations later, I had decided that I needed space. I had made it very clear that I did not any sort of sexual relationship with him, but the advances persisted, so I told him to leave me alone for a while. And in that time, I don't know that I have been the best person around towards him, but I have been who I am. For a while, I did feel like I was being a dick, but now I think I was just being honest in who I am. I am a dick. Everyone knows it. Shit, I take pride in it! I don't take it too far, but just far enough to be funny. I guess he didn't find it funny.

I don't know where to be with him right now. He wants to have a relationship with me. Just as friends, but I don't know if he can handle that. I don't know if I can handle that. We can't even get over having a guy over! I think I'm at the point where I don't care, but he is not. He still can't even stop sexually advancing on me! That's not the kind of "friend" I want. Well, maybe it is, but not out of him.

He's been sending me handwritten letters lately. Letters that explain where he's at in life and where he wants to be. I've only gotten two so far. I'm proud of him. I truly am, however, that doesn't mean that we're  ready to be friends. I'm still not in the right mindset. I'm still pretty angry. I know I shouldn't be and that I shouldn't hold grudges, but I can't help it. I can't help think that he needs to quit telling me that I'm being rude and being a jerk because that's not what he was thinking when he was being that way to me. He didn't bat an eye when he was that viscous. I know it only makes me stoop down to his level, but in my eyes, I'm not. I'm being me. . . And I'm enjoying it.

I don't know where life will take us. At this point in my life, I'm only focused on having fun and being me. I've taken great pride in this whole Good Vibes thing. Good vibes equal good times. Thick guys and good vibes are the only things allowed in my life right about now. I don't think I want to stress anything else. Who knows. Only time can tell. But I can always continue to say. . .

After All This Time? Always. 💕

~Be Breezy~