Online Vs. Offline Mike Part Two

Two weeks after the last hangout, Mike and I saw each other again for a night of drinking and dancing. I was on official business, though. A newfound friend of mine just came out. And well hey, with a boy toy by his arm. I, and five other girlfriends came that night to support him. There we were: Mike, my beards, my newfound friend and me.

[Moments after the last encounter with Mike, the flirtatious chats and text messages resumed. I was attracted to him immediately.]

Mike and I were back to our platonic selves. The banters: friendly. The touch: friendly. The look: friendly. One more friendly gesture we do could lead to us gaping at the latest winner of America’s Next Top Model while braiding each other’s hair. I could not stand it. Worst, he had his game face on again. Ugh!

What I learned from the last time was never to compromise myself for Mike or else I would end up getting bored. Even in the company of my friends, I could get bored and yawn my way out of that scene. I had to get the next best entertainment – me, alcohol-ed. As soon as I finished a bottle, two of my gal pals already made it to the ledge. They reached for my hand. I was really tempted to go up there and dance. For those who didn’t know, I would always make it a point to bust a move in a manner that everyone would notice. But that night for some reason, I pretended to be shy. Offline Mike, who professes his hate for people who danced on ledges, stopped me.

Also, I didn’t want to make him feel like an outcast and the music was mediocre, too. We stood there for the first hour but occasionally he would leave me. Either to look for his friends or to look for “food.” After that he was gone for a long time. I was just glad that I could breathe. I was half-drunk already and the party was starting. I went up to the ledge but I was always looking out for offline Mike all the while. Bummer.

[Truth is, I am afraid it would destroy all my chances of getting him if he sees me Britney-dancing on the ledge]

When I was already sweating as if I were on a beach, I stepped down. My friends and I went out for a smoke. Lucas was there with his boyfriend, Jaime. Jaime told me offline Mike went home to do a number 2! HAHAHAHAH!

[To this day, Mike doesn’t know that Jaime told me he went home to take a dump.]

I didn’t think that he’d be back so I just went along my drinking and dancing. When he came back though, he texted “I am back with a new do.” I said to myself, “did he just shave his head?” Then, I saw him he just parted his hair sideways. I was already drunk so I didn’t give a damn about the new do. But for some reason, I felt in heat. All of a sudden, I really wanted to pin him down or plant one on him. Ack!

It’s official. I really like him – online or not. What was wrong during the last time was this: I like Mike more than he likes me and I hate it that’s why I just go halfway with him. I block all moves that will translate – YOU ARE RISKING IT ALL. If this is really it, then it’s sad.

As soon as that realization set in, I told my friends that we should go home. By then, I had lied to them and said I didn’t feel a thing when in fact, I really did feel something familiar. I am back in love again with Mike and that love is no longer that of a certain 19-year old boy. I thought to myself, I could really care for this person for a long period of time. It hurts though that at present, I cannot still get him: all of him.

I searched for him. And I hugged him goodbye. I kissed him again in the same spot (near his lips), at the apple of his right shoulder and at the middle of his back. He just patted my back and went back to the dance floor.

Internally, I was bit crushed but I was glad to have had validated what I have been feeling.

Online Vs Offline Mike

A writer once told me that in order for my stories to be understood, I have to tell them. I never really got what he said. So, like any aspiring writer, I asked what that meant. He simply said - write the truth and do not be afraid.

Seven years ago, I have had this major crush from college – Mike. He is almost three years older than I but he acts like his wounds from circumcision just healed. He is utterly juvenile, pretentious and undenyingly good-looking. He reminds me of Ryan Philippe in Cruel Intentions where the character Sebastian is a dick-wad and dangerous. Make that character gay who wears Supra and nylon jacket and he can pass as Mike.

Mike, back in the day, asked me out. I would not know how act though in that “date.” Would I be his date, his friend or his classmate? But it was definitely something like he was interested. He would always ask my flatmates of my whereabouts, if I were in my apartment or if I would be doing something that night. In one occasion, he held my hand while entering a bar but the biggest confirmation came in the form a knowing stare from his friends. Yes, whomever Mike liked was tagged as a target. An imaginary paper would be on your forehead saying: private property of Mike. The attention overwhelmed/ scared me. I turned him off instantly. That was the end of Chapter 1.

Now, it is different. I can compete with him. Thanks to the endless hours of watching gay porn and Queer As Folk, reading Outrage magazine, DowneLink and other Gay 101 online communities ad infinitum. I am equipped, informed and updated whatever there is to know about gay culture. My body parts have developed. I have gained weight and pimples have minimized. I can proudly say I am a looker now.

Meanwhile, he has aged. It is also surprising to know that at closer inspection how effeminate he is and how low his self-esteem is. This cuts the disparity in half. It is only a matter of time before I catch up with him. And maybe that time is NOW.

We have been platonic for almost two years but a couple of months ago things have led me to feeling borderline love for him. Since I am already confident with my career, my overall disposition, and myself, I believe I can take him down. There is one problem, however.
Most of the time we communicate online. And online he turns way up on. In person, he bores me. He does not interest me one bit. My friends suggest that I confront my feelings pronto. They worry about me. They have been in and out of several relationships while I sit in a corner listening to the details of their vicarious experiences about life sandwiched by love and sex. This is the reason why they want me to profess my feelings for him.

In my mind, why spoil something good? If this is working for me now, I do not have to worsen it by saying I like you. Reality destroys fantasy and they are not usually attractive.

Then again, the adage reminds you – it’s now or never crawls at the back of my thought. I can be man enough to confront it for whatever it is or leave it as it is. I want to be a man.

That said, I went out with him on Friday night. He asked me to meet up with him for a few drinks and some. Though he was sick, he wanted to party his flu away and show me the ropes on how to snag a mate. At seven in the evening sharp, I was at the house of one of my closest friends to have dinner, sleep over and prepare for the main event. By 8:30, he informed that he would take a nap. I said the same after a couple of beers. I had set the alarm at 10:30 and shut my eyes.

A few twists and turns later, I was wondering why I couldn’t sleep. I reached for my phone and searched for the time. IT WAS FUCKING 1:30AM ALREADY! I panicked. My friend just watched wondering what I would do. I sat down for a while and laughed. By then, he texted me already if I were still decent. I said, I missed my alarm but I could still go. I hopped into the shower. Put on clothes and make up. He was texting all along asking me if I was on my way and that he had been waiting for me.

Good thing I slept. My sleepyhead made me numb of my nervous excitement. I was calm. When I got there, a muscular guy, Eric, greeted and wanted to get my number. I said I was with someone. Then, Mike came to fetch me. He held my hand and we went inside. He introduced me to his friends. One of them, I already met - Lucas. Most of them were in their early thirties and I found them funny but for Mike he was just plain. Well, next to them he is.

One of his friends, Lucas, made fun of me by introducing me to a waiter, which I failed to recognize since I was still sleepy. I was mortified but it did not matter because I would need something to crack up Mike. We all had a good laugh. Then, silence. I noticed that everybody went back to his or her business. They had this game face on and that hungry look. Almost like a sex pang.

Minutes later, Mike fancied someone. His prey was unresponsive to him. Little did he know,his prey was looking at me! HA! I kept my mouth shut. I already knew in my heart, he would not score with that guy at least for that night.

So as we cruise through the crowd where he introduced me one by one, I found out that most of these are friends by association or by someone they fucked; very superficial basis in my opinion. But after every introduction, we would be left alone. One of his friends begrudgingly even said to Mike, “buti ka pa may date.” To which he replied, “sira! Hindi ito date.” I just laughed. Then, after that joke, we were back at each other’s attention again. Silently sipping our beers praying they were bottomless and smoking profusely. I tried to inject silly stories, which he responded to half-heartedly.

How can a guy so dynamic in chat, text and even phone calls lose such spark in person?
I remembered myself saying, “I’m bored” a lot of times. Things just got exciting when I noticed the scars on this left arm. He said he used to cut himself. Of course, I did not believe at first but it could be true. He showed me the cut he made on his chest. My hands went inside his shirt to feel the scar (and to feel his body) but I did not feel anything. I did not get horny or anything close to even thinking about it.

Then, I had a thought. Could it be Mike has a dual personality? Online, Mike was very engaging but there he was standing right beside me – shallow, uninteresting and damn awful quiet. I could not find that connection between the online Mike and offline Mike.

And at 4 A.M., I called off the search party. We had breakfast, which was composed of laughing at his friends, a pack of cigarettes, BLT sandwich and tapsilog. His friends who thought we went there as a date, let us go home first. While inside the cab, I laced our silence with a lot silly storie. Again, he responded half-heartedly. There would be no way for me to experience the dissolution of his character-disparity.

By the time he reached his place, I remembered the faces of my staunch supporters who rallied, prayed and stood behind me. I still feel lost with the offline Mike. But then again, I was never the performer who would let his audience down.

As soon as he gestured getting out of the cab and dropping fifty bucks into my hat, I said, “pa-kiss nga.” He leaned over and I kissed him a pore away from the tip of the right side of his lips. Yep! I still felt lost and platonic toward the offline Mike.

All the built-up emotions, expectations and seven years beget nothing. And instead of reaching a conclusion, I ended up having more questions. Such as have I outgrown him? Have I painted a different picture of him in my mind and I have fallen for the guy – the online Mike? Do I have to make bigger, grander moves to find out?

I really do not know. But this I will tell, I am proud to say that I tried to figure it out. I am not going to drop online or offline Mike right away but for now, I will keep on looking.

BREAKTHROUGH

What are the odds that in my lifetime I will never find someone that suits me?

The question in itself bears so many heartaches and potential meltdowns. Truth be told, I have placed myself out there -heart, mind, and soul and yet, nothing. The specks of time that traveled between my staring at this computer and wondering what to type has made the invisible, palpable. I am lonely. Maybe.

I have another looming heartbreak in my hands. An epic love story I have created in my head is dying. I cannot understand what I still want from him. We chat online and it's sexy hot but when we see each other and talk, he turns into an utter bore.

With all honesty and fairness to the person, he does not know what is hidden underneath my puns. I am guessing that if he likes me too, he will flirt back. Hmmm, maybe I do not need to write a lengthy blog about this and stick to the fact that he does not like me. Period.

{should you wish to tolerate me and my fantasies, please continue reading}

I am guessing that if he knows that I want to start somehting with him, he will give me a straight answer. We have had this friendship for almost two years and I have been emotionally occupied with other guys in between when I realized, I kinda sorta like him. This "like" is more of a grown up thing. What I want to have with him is the answer to my question. So last Friday, I confronted my feelings at the risk of losing his friendship.

It was a success on my part, I was able to carry out my mission, as planned. Whatever I felt for him was partially platonic and in person he offered little to pique my interest. But it would be hard for me to veer away from him. I had become his virtual companion but when we do something virtually - talk, chat and anything confined in that arena, I would be attracted to him. Oh, the conflict.

If I stick to the first linear, then the conflict would dissipate. Now, the plan must start. Okay, tomorrow.

For The Nth Time

Here’s a reminder to take out the trash in your life. If it’s sitting at your face, lurking behind your back or rotting in a corner, I suggest you grab a bag to collect it. Then, throw I away. Surely, this is the best time for me to be talking about this after yet another mistake of letting my loneliness stall my progress. For a while, I have exhibited recovery from hoarding dirt. To speak in decrypted language, I have always sought for drama in my relationships - real, imposing and imaginary. This is on top my preference in a guy, which is another story. And for a time, I have been drama-free. This might have gotten me into relentless writing spree in the first place. However, just recently the growth has been delayed.

If there’s anything to have in life, it is a good discerning mind. A mind that can distinguish the cycle of abuse that you have subjected your heart and body for a period of time can be a good tool. And if our heart and body are just robot organs getting orders from our mind, then they must follow suit. But I am of defective brain. Mine believes what my gut tells me and I tell myself, “Why do I keep on believing my instinct if in the end it spins my head crazy?” I guess some people, like myself, are hard-wired to believe in the possibility of what might be based from their hearts of heart.

Again, this can be funny and at times adorable when you are young and I am still young. But for now, I must settle for the lesson. I have to be prompted constantly that certain ideologies like marrying a man carrying a broken wind is toxic, engaging in adulterous relationships is a dump and seeking for that “pavement that leads nowhere” is nothing but a waste.

For once, I want to invest in other things that I want. Writing is one of them. Though, I have limited ideas to talk about, hopefully these can be a part of a discussion and if I can dream bigger, a movement.

Musical Chairs Or Chicken Wings

Coming in late into the game, I have been blithely unaware of the moves and tactics in dating. Truth be told, I started way too early having interest in it at age 12. I remember dating someone around that age over a dozen of burgers and cola. It will never work. He is as straight as a ruler. The best thing I got from that date was getting locked up in a room with him at a school fair. We hated that experience though he became a friend later on.

After that incident, it took a long time before I went on a date. Apparently, when I went back into the game it would require me more than a piece of mashed ground beef and carbonated soda. Everything is in reindeer-quick speed. A moment of lingering looks can lead to a coffee date, then a movie and then… BOOM! Next thing you know Gay 1 is feeding Gay 2 with a gelato in public nonetheless. They decide to go exclusive after 2 days and then in a month’s time they go their own ways.

The series of interrelated changes happen in one particular group. A friend has said, “it’s like Melrose Place.” Everyone has gone to bed with someone, one way or another. My refusal to succumb to this connection of sexual plethora stems from a lot of fears and insecurities but more than anything, the thought of being included in six degrees of a certain John, is the horror of all my horrors.

Ironically, I think I am in it. I am playing it. I have to. Otherwise, I will prolong the condition of my sexual status or the lack of any. It’s a sick, sad cycle - injurious and tedious.

It is my theory though that for every game, there is a code - a technique that so far I have not been able to break. I do not think I will be getting the point anytime now and it is fine by me. I am just going to stand outside the game and eat my chicken wings.

I can imagine Gay 1 and Gay 2 after playing the musical chairs for sometime. They sit down in exhaustion and realize they are only ones left standing in the game. The Gloria Gaynor and Lady Gaga music on loop stopped as well. I hope they make it, together or apart.

Waiting To Happen

Devirginization, the process of a virgin’s first sexual experience, is so normal these days that celibacy and/ or self-preservation is already considered an urban myth. The act of opening up to another person special or not has become so prevalent today that it puts certain bible verses to shame.

Last Sunday, four single ladies, I included have responded to a breakfast invitation that opens with a statement, “I did it.” As usual, we have asked our friend the details of that event. Well, not biblically but how it has led her to finally do it. As she narrates the event that predates almost nine years of on-and-off flirting, I have noticed something strange. The fact that this deed is a reaction from her being tired of playing the good girl is not the only thing to take notice of but also the fact the she is not that proud of it. She is uncertain or deigns to think of the impact of this experience. I feel otherwise for her. I envy her. To imagine that one person such as her type (prude and very overly conservative and mature) can easily give it away still leaves my jaw wide open; feel free to throw a pun that a fly can enter my mouth.

It is my assumption that her experience impacts my life harder. Being an over-thinker myself, this occurrence presents the inevitable sleepless nights, long sighs and multitudes of explanations why and how shitty my situation is. Heck, I have started dreaming about it last night.

I can no longer insert my witty puns on this one. This has got to stop. All the illusions of doing it with certain eligible candidates, the positions to do/ perform/ receive, the preparations and even the situations that will lead to it. This is starting to be borderline noise to me.

So far, I only know one thing - I am waiting. If sex is the only thing to factor in this equation, I have done it eons ago. To me this is not a case of morality, being virtuous and all. Not even the readiness. I refuse to settle with the norm that the deed can define me. If I’m out to get the best teachers in life, my experiences, to educate me then sex will never be a part of it - at least to me. I have blithely embraced the fact that I have never been the go-to person for sex. That is just not who I am. I just hope my other head agrees with me.

The Wrong Impression Guy

Another morning with a cigarette, staring at my blank horizon. Feeling wrong altogether. I have woken from a night with my desires crucified, yet again. An immobile smile is etched on my face with a mix of humility, embarrassment and nonchalance. It has taken me this far and long to realize what I have always known all along.

I have a penchant for a certain kind of guy. One who is unavailable, distant, cold and cruel disguised as funny, interesting.

"You got to be a masochist," a friend said. In my sexual fantasy, I am and in reality, I might be.

Certain experiences have to be learned. Statues of limitations to be followed and after years of exemplary failures, I have almost come to thinking that I got it. That is until last night. I have grown a certain amount of fondness for a certain fellow. He definitely fits the mold. unavailable, distant, cold and cruel disguised as funny, interesting. However, he is an upgraded version for his looks... Well, let us just say beyond interesting. But then as I move forward with my intentions, it hit me - this is the very abusive cycle that has got me thinking.

After all the progress I have made, it will be unfortunate if I back out now.