Like many gay men, I had a summer fling. While there are many healthy, manogamous gay relationships, many of us not in one go through cycles — a boy for the warm months to have fun with and a boy t0 cuddle with during the colder months. The one-night stands in between don’t count. Haha. I met my summer fling in a rather unique way – at a scavenger hunt in late June. It was one of those events that occur frequently in DC – find something immature to do, say you’re raising money for a charity that benefits kids and line up the booze sponsors. It’s recess with ridiculous amounts of alcohol.
After an afternoon of scavenging and drinking, I decided to check-out the other homos who were participating. Long story short, we caught each others’ eye and at his urging decided it would be fun to make out right then and there. “There” being the Front Page in DC, which if you’ve ever lived in DC is better known as a hangout for GW douche bags swilling $3 bottles of Miller Lite. Fortunately, it was too early for the meatheads. Not exactly a romantic story to write home to mom about or share with the wedding guests, but it is what it is.
The next day, he and I decide to hang out at my friend’s rooftop pool. Now, I’m the first to admit that I’m a little hard to get to know. I have a shell around me that you have to crack through before I open up. But, after spending the afternoon with him, I conclude he’s a genuinely sweet guy. He’s from the Midwest, he’s adorable, great eyes, great smile, funny, smart and affectionate. In summary, I’m intrigued and we date for a few months where the aforementioned qualities are confirmed. I’m someone who meets someone and either connects with him or doesn’t. It’s the “it” factor. “It” is either their or “it” isn’t. It was there with him. Unfortunately, I also learn he plans to go into the Peace Corps in a year. I like him, though, and decide to continue dating him, knowing it will end at some point because our lives our going in different directions.
During September, though, something changed. He’s less affectionate and I feel like the time we spend together is less special to him. I let this go for awhile because I know he’s working on a major fundraising event at work and trying to finish his Peace Corps application. By the end of September the event is over and the Peace Corps application is nearing completion and he invites me over for dinner and the season premiere of Ugly Betty. I was thrilled – we hadn’t spent a lot of time together lately because he had been busy and when we were together I sensed he wasn’t really into it. Dinner was nice and Ugly Betty was fun and I was ready for some action – it had been awhile. So there we were laying next to each other as I cuddled, kissed and attempted to be cute to get some affection. His response? He watched King of the Hill, he talked about how tired he was and said he needed to do the dishes. Eventually, I realized my efforts were going nowhere and left.
As I rode my bike home, I was practically in tears thinking about the evening. How tonight was going to be different. How I was patient and wanted to be understanding about the things he had going on in his life. How much I wanted his affection, to know he cared and enjoyed our time together. And what I got was someone distracted by everything except the person next to him.
Back in my apartment, I decided I needed to share my feelings. I called and left a voicemail and when he called back I explained how I felt. That I needed more affection and to know our time together was special. He said he couldn’t give me that because he was leaving in a year for the Peace Corps, and if he did, he would decide not to go and give up one of his life’s goals. Later, I learned he actually had canceled his Peace Corps plans for his last boyfriend. He said he was sorry for being passive aggressive and not saying anything sooner. I could only muster two or three word sentences in response because I’d started to cry and I didn’t want him to know. It was September 28th, three months to the day when we’d first met and it was over in a phone call.
I always knew it wasn’t going to last because he was leaving. As I thought about what he said, I just grew more upset, though. He said that he had been passive aggressive and should have said something earlier. In other words, he couldn’t just tell me that he couldn’t continue dating because he was afraid he would give up on the Peace Corps as had happened before. It all made sense now – my feeling something had changed a month earlier was right – he had checked out. Instead of realizing what was happening, I was supportive and kept trying – continued putting effort in when it wasn’t wanted. That really hurt me.
The following Tuesday we had lunch. I wanted to meet him that day because before the break-up we’d planned to go to an event atthe Hirshorn that Friday and I thougth cancelling over the phone or e-mail would be rude. I also wanted to tell him how I felt – that I was hurt because the last month we spent together I felt I had become of lesser importance to him, but continued trying, all the while becoming more hurt by his slowly pulling away before finally saying something. The topic eluded me until the very end, when I brought up our previous plans for Friday. He asked what I thought about going. I replied that I didn’t think it was a good idea, and he readily agreed. Then he continued to say he wanted me to know what a great person I was and some other nice words, but that our relationship couldn’t continue because he knows himself well enough to know if it did continue, he would end up not entering the Peace Corps and would later regret it.
I wanted to tell him how I felt, so badly. But, I could feel the tears welling up in my eyes, and I just said thank you, not wanting to cry in front of him. We embraced as we said good-bye. It was nice – he’s a great hugger if there is a range of profiiency when it comes to hugging. It reminded me of the start of our relationship when he would hold my hand, or touch my leg or ask me to kiss him. I was sad that wouldn’t happen anymore.
When I got home, I e-mailed to tell him what I wanted to say at lunch, but couldn’t. I knew it was a cop-out, but it was better than saying nothing at all. He replied to thank me and say he was being genuine about wanting to be friends and understood it might take some time for me. That was the last time I had contact with him, except for a few text messages I sent, for three weeks.
Fast forward to yesterday when I looged onto Facebook. Facebook produces convenient reminders when your friend’s birthdays are coming up. And, there it was – his name next to October 24th – just two days away. I gasped when I saw it – my invitation to the celebration hadn’t arrived and I knew it wasn’t coming. Emotions surged inside me – sadness, rejection. I’ve cried more lately than I care to admit. I understood on some levels why – the awkwardness because I don’t know many of his friends, for example. Nonetheless, I was hurt he hadn’t thought of me.
In talking to my roommate, who is wonderful, I realized that all my sadness is about more than him. It’s that I have an unfulfilled need – an emotional, loving connection with another human being. Someone who’s there to share, to cuddle, to kiss, to hug and do couple things. Someone to say “I love you” when you look into their eyes.
I didn’t come out until I was 26 and before this had one real relationship. This was the first time I dated someone who I felt a connection. After experiencing that, I realize now more than ever what part of my life I’m missing.
Today, he e-mailed. No invite to his birthday, but it helps to know he thought of me. And, as my roomate like to say – we’re going to put ourselves out there. Because, my connection is somewhere.
