Some people do everything they can to make a relationship work. They get hurt, wind up alone, and we feel sorry for them. I’m not one of those people.
A recent conversation with a friend got me thinking about relationships past and how I’ve gotten to where I am. I’ve been less than a saint, played the martyr, and taken a few good hits along the way. Who knows what truth exists, but I fully believe in relationship karma; what I do to someone will directly effect what the next person does to me.
Let’s rewind several years to the time when I was dating The Mormon (I could go farther back, but then love gets involved. No reason to make things messy.). The Mormon was a genuinely nice guy; a breed I am afraid of ruining now. We only dated for three months, my friends liked him and some even still talk to him, but I was bored. Any good gay gets bored when things go well; I just needed help from a stranger to figure out that I was bored. One late night in a bar I met, The Trainer.
I confused the grabbing of my arm for a friend and stopped, surprised by the attractive guy in front of me on the dance floor. Long story short, I told him I wouldn’t go home with him, but gave him my number and told him to give me a call. I refuse to cheat on a boyfriend; that is one line I don’t cross. When The Trainer called and invited me over the next day I accepted and dumped The Mormon an hour before leaving to meet him. Does this make me a dick? Of course!
There must always be punishment where pleasure is involved. I fell hard for The Trainer, but he was only looking for a cheap thrill. I spent the next several months being nothing more than an easy piece of ass. That finally ended when I was driving over one night and he text to say I should stay home. Obviously I was curious as to why. Another short text informed me he had started dating a guy he’d been waiting for. I screwed The Mormon and because of that The Trainer screwed me.
We are forced to fast-forward in time because I had several nothing flings along the way before my next boyfriend. I started dating Biker Boy. Oh Lord, Biker Boy. Another great guy, other than his pencil dick, it was just too much. The reason you sleep with them on the first date is so you don’t get a disturbing surprise later. It was a foot long and as wide as a penny, disgusting. We dated almost four months, but two months in I started getting presents.
I had broken the port where the charger connected to my laptop and Biker Boy offered to fix it. The result was the total destruction of my computer. Christmas arrived and Biker Boy gave me a brand new laptop, aided by my manipulation. I knew that he was head over heals for me; I just had to play him right. I did, I got exactly what I wanted. Not only did I get that, but also I managed to furnish an entire apartment on his credit card. Let me tell you how good I am at manipulation. So good, we never had sex the entire time we were dating. One hand job about two weeks into dating and I was done. What he had was something I didn’t want, except for that other little thing with the Visa symbol. I’m kind of proud of this in a sick way, of course, I know I shouldn’t be, but I think it’s impressive.
I assume anyone that has read my older posts can guess what my punishment for Biker Boy was. Ding, ding, ding; The Devil. Overview: Taking back I love you’s, mind games, open relationship, several dramatic break-ups. No need for the details we all already know. I would say I sufficiently paid for what I did to Biker Boy. I may have even paid for it twice from what happened in my last relationship.
The point of all this: Have I learned anything? I have learned a few things, but I’m afraid they’ve turned me into an unapproachable monster. There are the Newbies and Italians out there that make an effort to date me and I discard them right away. Most of this is arising because I’m getting that itch to date again, but I am trying to understand the point of dating. Can we date without games and motives? That is the question I can’t answer.