Date. Toss. Repeat?

R.B. Winters
R.B. Winters
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It’s been said that it takes 28 days to break a habit. So, if I am in the habit of throwing away the good guys I meet, does that mean I’ll throw away 27 before I finally keep number 28?
Roughly a week ago I ventured out with PETA and The Animator.  We had a drink at Barrage and then moved onto HK. The place was crowded and I was thrilled when I saw that they were projecting a John Waters’ movie on the wall. If you haven’t seen Pink Flamingos I highly recommend it. That is, if you have a strong stomach and are a little twisted. Once inside HK this guy caught my eye. He held the gaze and then faded into the sea of gays.
The evening progressed with trannies, pigs, and homos galore! It wasn’t until The Animator told me he was ready to leave that the gaze guy reappeared. We talked for a minute, traded numbers and I was out the door. The Animator and I spent the next two hours walking around the city, intoxicated and being deep. Oh how I love drunk-deep moments. I’m just so much more insightful, then there’s the part where I trip on my own shoes and ruin it.
The guy I traded numbers with sent me a text the next day. I invited him to come hangout while my roomie and I packed the remainder of our belongings for the big move we were about to embark on. Newbie did just that. He spent the night with us in my bed. It’s always good to get someone new into bed with you and your roomie, even if it’s more about the laughter than it is the sex.
Moving right along; after a week of hanging out with Newbie I can say that I like him. The problem is that I think he likes me too much. Newbie is very affectionate and wants to be “intimate”. I on the other hand think of intimacy as you remembering to grab my beer from the corner store on your way from the train. I also think of affection as you being kind enough to open that bottle of beer for me. Some guys like kisses, I like booze.
I’m not ready to toss Newbie, but I’m worried that’s already the road we’re traveling down. I generally lose interest in guys that don’t treat me like a cum dumpster. For some reason my brain tells me to run from the good guys. It could be a defense mechanism to prevent anyone from getting too close. You never really get close to the assholes of the world. They might be inside you, but that doesn’t mean they love you. However, the guys that love you generally aren’t worried about getting inside you (in that regard).