Case Number 3
Meet: The Heartsmasher.
There comes a time in a long relationship where you think that you have finally found "the one". You spend month after month with this person believing that your future with him/her is all peaches & cream, you even visualize yourself living with him/her in a two-story house in the suburbs, with a white picket fence, lovely neighbors who bring you pie every weekend and don’t mind the ungodly screams you make when you have sex, and of course, a gorgeous toy poodle named Frou-Frou. Lord, am I fucked up or what.
I met this guy in a bar.
Ok, that’s a bad way to start a conversation about relationships, since bars are absolutely the last place you meet people for something serious. Then again, I have never gone to bars with those intentions. But things have a way of happening. So stop thinking of me as if I was a bar hopping whore.
Anyway, I went out with Shenène (fictitious name to protect the person’s real identity) for a few drinks. Shenène is one of my sexually ambiguous friends, who I haven’t had the chance to hang out with much, because when it’s only the two of us we run out of things to talk about really quickly and are very prone to "awkward silences". One of those rare nights when I agreed to go out with her, we went to our usual haunt, the little queer bar by the beach. We sit down, and I see this guy who just doesn’t stop looking at me. He was insanely cute, and was accompanied by a female friend, just like me. As me and Shenène talked, I noticed how he kept staring at me and then gossiping to his friend, just like I was doing. Shenène noticed this and said "Ok you wuss, if you don’t invite him to the table, I will. Besides, his friend is kinda cute". I bitched and moaned for her not to do so, but she ignored me like a dog. She went over to them and invited them, since they looked as lonely as us.
So now there were four of us. The guy was strangely magnetic, he was somewhat manly-looking, with a hint of "flamboyance-ness" (register that one on Merriam-Webster), and the way he moved, talked and even drank made obvious that he was an educated, smart piece of ass.
I usually don’t go after gays that are even slightly flamboyant, but this guy, just by the way he expressed himself, made me see he was no ordinary homo. This guy had substance and smarts.
We kept drinking and kidding around, especially when the bartender, who we named "Ambrosio" (we always forgot his real name, hence the baptism), started kidding around with me and the other guy about doing a threesome. The bartender knew me from a long while back, and whenever he found himself free of clients, he came out of the bar and joked with us very crudely. he was this bleach blonde, muscular, tall, MANLY hunk of man that always drove me crazy, but was kind of unnattainable, since he had his partner. But that doesn’t mean I couldn’t have a little fun with him. *wink, wink*… More on that later, you perverts.
Ok, I strayed off the subject talking about the damn bartender (*drool*). Anyway by the time we decide to leave, the guy I just met is a bit plastered by all the drinks, and he starts getting extra-flirty. When we decide to go, I head to the back of the bar to say goodbye to the bartender (with a now habitual peck in the mouth, but I won’t get into details… yet), but the other guy came along. I don’t exactly recall what drove us to do this, but the three of us ended up making out at the same time in the back of the bar. And it was supposed to be an innocent goodbye kiss. Hot-damn. I guess I can’t convince you now that I’m not a bar hopping whore, eh? Bah! Screw you then. This is MY story.
Anyway, as we’re going to our respective vehicles, the guy gets in a playful mood and he jumps over me trying to ride horsie. WTF? Oh… He’s drunk. Nevermind.
I finished the rest of the night in a friend of Shenène’s house pretending to be straight. It didn’t bother me, since all I did was drink. It’s the first night I remember ever being "slightly drunk". I noticed this because suddenly I found myself talking shit non-stop. Luckily I have never drank enough to puke or have a hangover.
I couldn’t help thinking about the guy for the next few days, so I called him back. He didn’t pick up, so I left a message identifying myself and letting him know I’m interested in getting to know him better. He answered a day after, and we agreed to go watch a movie. Finally the day comes, and then he tells me that he’s inviting a friend of his as well. Oh great. A chaperone. Groovy. I didn’t mind, I assumed (and I probably was right) that he brought his little friend as insurance in case our date sucked. Anyway, we meet and he presents me with his friend, who greets me a bit coldly and cynically. I didn’t mind him and talked to him as little as possible. My main focus was the guy. We watched the movie, but I felt a bit hindered when talking to him, thanks to that other idiot just looming over us like a shadow. Oh well. He’s the friend. I guess I gotta be polite to be on the guy’s good side.
Later on I found out that they actually dated for a while, but broke it off because that friend came from a deeply religious family and was seriously confused with his sexual identity. I also learned that the friend had a horribly downward-bent penis, which prevented him from leading a normal sexual experience when he was aroused. Sad, really, the friend was kind of cute.
On our second date, we decide to have dinner and walk around OSJ, and we ended up at the ancient, urine-soaked El Morro. This set a precedent, since every time that we wanted to have a private, romantic night under the stars, we headed to "our spot", in one of the lonely corners of the structure, where we sat and cuddled like prepubescent schoolgirls, and any other couples who saw us there kept their distance and respected our space, as did we.
After a few months, El Morro became a must on a starry night, and we joked around that if we ever married, the wedding was going to be right there, on the front yard, with a magnificent view of the bay. It was at that spot that after a couple of months dating, he said those three words to me. I wanted to say them a while before, but I was afraid of jumping ahead in the relationship. Nevertheless that gesture killed me. Over time I convinced myself that this guy was the best thing that ever happened to me.
He was a mystery at first, but over time I learned about his past and the trials and tribulations him and his family had gone/were going through. He opened up to me and I opened up to him unconditionally. But something about his behavior, the glow in his eyes, the way he said things and then said "oh, it was nothing, nevermind", made me think that there was something much deeper eating at him, and he refused to reveal it to me. No matter how many things he told me about himself, he still remained an enigma.
Nevertheless, we shared numerous experiences that made me fall head over heels with him. Like the time we found this hidden beach after following a forest trail, and minutes later we arrived at this enclosed bay, surrounded by mountains and tall trees. We made it our beach, walking around butt-naked and kissing passionately on the burning sands as the waves washed around us.
I realize that I’m starting to sound like a cheap gay porn novel, so I’ll move on from the beach scenario.
There’s also the first night I slept away from home on my own accord, when I told my parents I had gone camping with a few old friends and instead rented a room in a skanky Bed and Breakfast in Isla Verde. It was the first time I slept the whole night with someone I fancied, and I enjoyed every second of it, even though time flew incredibly fast, and before I knew it, it had dawned and we were urged to check out of the room at about 9 am. Fucking bastards. I wanted to sleep ’till noon.
Up until that day, sleeping with my partner was an unattainable fantasy that seemed very unlikely, since I still live at home, and my parents, if you haven’t figured it out by now, are the incarnation of paranoia. They never say no, and I constantly remind them that I’m an adult, but god, they sure harrass the hell out of me.
Well, thanks to the guy, I finally did it. I slept with my partner from night ’till dawn for the first time. It’s sad that now that such a pleasant memory is marred because of him. (Now that I think about it, it wasn’t that fun, I kept waking up at odd hours to blow my nose, since the air conditioning fucked up my allergies.)
Everything was perfect, we saw each other on weekends and on the occasional weekday, since both of us worked and studied. If you asked me, our relationship was a bit hindered by that, but it was perfect. I was so into this guy that I was willing to sacrifice anything for him.
I continued to remain on cloud 9 with him, until one day he calls me and tells me to meet him, and that he had something very serious to tell me. I couldn’t guess what it was, but I was enveloped by this tragic foreshadowing that just did not let me go. I felt as if something was about to die, and I didn’t know what or why.
We meet, and just as quickly, like a jab to the chin, he tells me that his job is transferring him to NY in a couple of months. Now I realized why I felt so miserable. I saw this one coming since he called me that day, but I didn’t want to accept it. I was destroyed, but I said "It’s ok, we can keep going out until you have to leave, I mean, there’s still a few months left." He seemed to be on the same page as me, but ever since that day, he was not the same. He was more detached and easily distracted, and talked much less with me. Now every time we went out, I felt that out relationship had a countdown.
One day, it finally dawned on me when I was driving him to his house. I was going to lose him. He asked me what was wrong, and I looked him straight in the eyes and said "I don’t wan’t you to go. I know you already took your decision, it’s your life, but I’d do anything to make you stay. Anything. I stopped the car, and we hugged for a minute without saying anything. I had a knot in my throat the whole night afterwards.
Shortly after that, a weekend came, and I called him to see what plans he had. He never picked up the phone. That went on for a week.
He calls me much later to apologize and to give me a half-assed excuse about his behavior, and agrees to meet me again for a movie. I go out, and on my way to the theater I call him to tell him I’m on my way. He never picked up, yet again.
He had stood me up for the second time. Three days before my birthday.
I left him an ultimatum in his phone. I was fucking tired of his games, not to mention horribly heartbroken. I stopped calling him altogether.
About a month later, my fabulously sapphic friend LaTiqua calls me and asks me about the prick. I tell her everything, and she, always ready to kick ass and take names, said "I’m gonna call that muthafucka." She does, and calls me a few minutes later saying that he told her he’s been through a lot and that the reason that he hasn’t answered my calls is that he had been in the US a short while ago, and, surprisingly, he wanted to get in touch with me to talk things straight. I wa surprised at this, and a little relieved, to say the truth. I called him the day after, but as always, his voicemail picked up. I left him a vague message saying that LaTiqua talked to me about him, and that I’m open for conversation as well. "If you want to see me, call me. You know my number."
Days passed, and he finally answered me. Through e-mail. What is with this guy?!
He practically apologized for everything, thinking that I held a huge grudge towards him. I didn’t. I just felt a huge emptiness inside caused by the biggest dissapointment I had ever experienced in my life. Then again, life is all about dissappointments, isn’t it?
A few days later, I hear my cel phone going nuts with the exclusive ring tone I had reserved for him. I looked at the call ID and there was his name. Do I pick it up? or do I diss him just like he dissed me?
Well, if you wanna know what went on, you’ll have to find out on the next post, because this one is already half a mile long, and I’m tired as hell.
Ta-ta, gossip-mongers, see you next diatribe.
Hurry up and finish the story! >:(
by DarK SouL December 6th, 2004 at 10:39 pm