You're My Drug...

Hey...
With that one little word in that simple text message all my resolve melted - I was hooked on him again. Every part of me urged me not to respond to that SMS, but like an addict, my cravings to see him... to be with him... took the best of me. I replied to the message, my body itching all over.
"Gary, don't see him. You know he's a jerk, he just calls you when he wants something. He knows what buttons to push..." My friends repeatedly told me, but I wouldn't listen - No... I didn't want to listen. It's like telling a cigarette smoker that smoking causes cancer; they know that, and yet they still smoke anyway. It's the same with me... I know he's bad for my heart, but I still go for him anyway.
"It's the last time I do this, I promise!" I said to my friends, knowing deep down that it was the farthest thing from the truth. I had made that promise the last ten times already... And I hadn't stuck to it then.
He strolled casually towards me, a sly sexy smile lingering on his lips, his hazel colored eyes twinkling behind the dark rimmed glasses he wore.... My heart was pounding frantically in my rib-cage, it felt as though I had snorted a line of cocaine. My hands were sweaty, butterflies nervously fluttered in the pit of my stomach... I was high on everything that he did and said, feeling as though I had just smoked a joint... Nervous about seeing him, yet feeling relieved to know that he had showed up.... He was a sugar-high I couldn't be without, making my head dizzy with child-like giddiness....
I'm drunk on him... and like alcohol he made my judgment hazy, making me want to say things I wouldn't normally say... My inhibitions low, I fight the temptation to run my fingers through his light brown hair... I become a slave to my habit, feigning for his attention... All the while thinking... He's my drug and I can't get enough of him...
When he's gone, I start to feel the withdrawal kicking in... My body - no... my heart - aches... I was crashing... Guilt and a sense of shame start to take place of the excitement and high I once felt only a few hours ago... Why had I done this? Why had I agreed to see him? I felt remorse, the same kind an individual who had been dieting for months suddenly found himself binge eating...
Like an addict, I always tell myself that I can quit whenever I wanted; however, I know that is not true... I can't quit loving him. The only way to stop this addiction is to go cold Turkey; it'll be like trying to quit smoking, I just stop it... Or maybe, I need love rehab... I'm no longer sure. But maybe a part of me enjoys the rush of feelings I get when I'm with him... I would rather feel 'something', then constantly feel 'numb'. Maybe I'm a masochist; I enjoy torturing myself, setting myself out for a heartbreak... Or maybe I'm just an idiot...
Whatever it may be... I just know that he's my drug...

Somebody To Love...

Soulmates... Monogamy... Somebody to love...
These three terms kept me mostly busy during the weekend, I spent most of my time just thinking about them as I listened to depressing country music and watched Beirut drown in rain... And for some reason, it got me thinking...
Soulmates... Do they really exist? Is there one person out there for you? Are we destined to meet that one special person who is out there waiting and looking for us? What if we have already crossed paths and somehow missed each other?
Two years ago, I was really interested in understanding more about soulmates so I had done an extensive research on the subject and I remember reading that the Aztecs believed that we are all old-reincarnated souls and that we carry fragments of our past lives' history, temperaments, and loves... So we spent our whole "new life" trying to reconnect with individual's from our past - even our loved ones; therefore, the Aztecs really did believe in soulmates... They are out there and we always manage to find each other again and again, no matter how far and near we might be. For some time, I had managed to find comfort in that thought... But is my soulmate in Lebanon? I would spend a good portion of my time, imagining my soulmate is out there looking for me, wondering what I'm doing.... But another thought came to me, are my parents really soulmates? Were my parents old souls that had managed to find each other and be together? For some reason, although my parents do love each other, I have difficulty believing that they truly are soulmates or truly meant to be together - they are vastly different from one another. What if someone is dating another individual, but has managed to find that one person who he knows and can feel it in his bones that they are meant to be; should he be true and follow his heart and risk everything by pursuing a silly idea like soulmates?
Can we love just one person? Can we make a promise to ourselves to just love one person? I'm not promoting polygamy or anything, but I just think that it would be a lie to tell someone that you'll love them and just them. This conversation sprung up when I was talking about relationships with a friend mine and I was vehemently arguing about the "value of monogamy," but I started having second thoughts later on. What if I'm dating this amazing guy, but somehow I manage to find another great guy - why should I have to choose between the two? Why can't I love them both? What if the second guy happens to be my soulmate, but I do have feelings for my boyfriend as well? This brings me to the concept of monogamy...
I think monogamy in homosexual relationships are very difficult to maintain and to keep, and that's because there is nothing that "officially" binds one person to another. I'm not saying that there needs to be a law that binds individuals to one another to maintain a relationship; but in heterosexual relationships there are "consequences" for breaking such a vow. Charles Darwin, the evolutionist, said that in order for males to survive they need to sleep with as many women in order to ensure the survival of their genes; however, he adds that society "condemns" such sexual behaviors and that is why monogamy is present. Gay men are wired the exact same way as heterosexual males - they have the basic wiring: needing to sleep with as many individuals to ensure survival, but without a need to establish "monogamy", gay relationships are almost impossible to keep.
At the end of the day, I'm not sure whether such things as soulmates, the "one", or the "love of my life" really do exist and that they are out there waiting and looking for me... It's like spending a fortune on Astrology books that talk about the compatibility of different star signs with one another and after a while you start to realize that it's all bull. With time, I started to come to terms with the notion that believing in soulmates is also a crock of bull - it's a delusion that we entertain ourselves with; a rationale we use to describe why we are still single and alone. Oh... I'm single because I just haven't found my soulmate yet. What if we've spent so much time and energy trying to "find" our soulmate that we have actually missed a great opportunity with an amazing guy who's right under our noses?
Is there somebody to love? I'll be an optimist and say 'yes', but will it be a long-lasting love affair? Will he be your soulmate? The answer to those I'm not quite sure. But if you're like me and think that you "deserve to be loved" and that you "need to be loved," than I'm going to tell you what I've been told many times before: Love happens when you least expect it... So till then, just love the one you're with! And if you're alone, you can always love yourself!

The Tricky Question...

We've all been bombarded with tricky questions; ones that put us in a tight or difficult situation. Such as: "Do you like my new haircut?" You're thinking, "Um... no. You look like crap!" But instead you smile and say, "Are you kidding? I LOVE it! I'm surprised you haven't cut it like that ages ago!" Although you may "sugar-coat" your real opinion about certain issues, there are some topics its not as easy to cover up "nicely" with words... I know what I'm saying isn't new - it has been around for decades, but this one particular "tricky question" was brought to my attention this past weekend...
I met a guy - let's call him Curly - this past weekend for coffee. I'd met Curly once before and I had shelved him off as someone very young for me; however, we continued keeping in contact via the magic of Facebook and text. During our coffee date, the conversation flowed really easily up until Curly asked me a question which I had difficulty answering.
"Gary, when do you know you're in a relationship?"
I, for once, was actually having difficulty providing an answer. And the question really got me thinking... When does one know they are in a relationship? Is it after the first, second, or third date? Is it the first time you kiss? The first time you sleep together? The fact that Curly was staring deeply into my eyes expecting an answer didn't make things any easier for me. However, Curly took my silence as a sign that I wanted him to elaborate on his question. He cleared his throat and added, "Well, I've been 'seeing' this guy for two weeks now... We made out and everything... but I'm still not sure if we're dating or not. So, do you think we are?" There was such a naivety in the way he asked me the question, I felt as though he wanted me to say: "Yes Curly! You guys are dating!" But for some reason, I couldn't find myself sugar-coating this time... maybe it was because a little part of me was disappointed. It turned out Curly just wanted to see me because he wanted me to impart my "gay experience" as he called it.
"I think you're in a relationship when you guys agree to be exclusive; like in only see and be with each other," I replied. But then I thought about... How unromantic... How very "legal"... They don't show you in Hollywood Romantic movies the characters asking if they are "exclusive" or in a "relationship"... they just happen to know... I know there are no rules or guidelines for relationships, but for some reason, trying to figure out whether you're in a relationship in the gay world is much harder. It's like trying to decipher an ancient riddle... Are we or are we not dating? And I think trying to sugar-coat the answer to that question is not as easy as telling your friend a little white lie about the horrendous predicament her hair is in... You can always change your hairstyle (hair grows back), but its hard to mend a broken heart...
Feeling a little dejected and down... I was supposed to meet IT guy on the weekend too, but there was "unforeseen obstacles" in the way... So I was feeling a little pissy when I went to visit my grandmother (or Meme as I call her) on Sunday. I was pretty much sulking and huffing and puffing.
"What's wrong? Why making all these elephant noises?" Meme asked me. I couldn't exactly tell her I was upset because I'm gay and can't find a decent douche to go out with... I just told her that I was feeling a little lonely and that's when my Meme took me by the hand and dragged me to the hallway where she has a mirror.
"Two eyes, two ears, one nose, one mouth - open up... full set of teeth, two arms, and two legs... Everything seems to be in place, nothing missing. Don't tell me you're upset until you've lost either a limb or any other body part! There is nothing for you to be upset about!" She then swatted me playfully on the upper arm. I couldn't help but crack a little smile... Maybe because I knew my Meme was right. I really had no reason to be upset... Everyone feels lonely from time to time, but its not exactly a reason to get depressed about.
The following morning as I was getting ready to head out to work, I looked in the mirror and a tiny smile spread across my face. "Two ears... Two eyes... One nose... A mouth with a full set of teeth..."
I may not know when I'll find that special someone with whom I'll know we're in a relationship without having to ask him "Hey guy I've been with for a month now... Are we dating or what?", but I know he's out there somewhere... I've just got to keep a positive attitude and who knows... We'll meet someday...

Falling For the Friend...

I've always made awful decisions concerning which guys to date... I've always gone for the guys that are unavailable, messed up psychological, emotionally immature - even some that are intellectually immature, guys with substance abuse (yes... I had even gone that low once), and even straight guys... My gaydar isn't always working too good for me... But the biggest mistake I've made so far is falling in love with a friend of mine...
It started off as a simple crush and then it became a sort of obsession - a need to know what he's doing, whom he's hanging out with... I would bite my nails when I send in a text message and wait anxiously for his reply. "Okay... it's been twenty minutes and still no reply... Why isn't he responding? Is he out with someone else? Is he intentionally avoiding me?" Of course, I would not know when to stop... so I would start calling him and shutting off after the first ring. When he wouldn't respond back to either the call or message, I would get beyond hysterical. But the thing is that the reason why I feel in love with my friend (let's call him Glasses - mostly because he does wear them!) was because everything seemed so simple and easy: we knew each other, we were comfortable being around each other... All the ingredients to cook-up the perfect relationship were there. And there is even a corny saying that goes like: The basis of all relationships is starting off as friends first.
But is that really so?
I would picture myself with this Glasses and I couldn't imagine or see myself ever having sex with my friend... Can we really get physical with each other? Can I really see my friend naked? God! Who am I going to nag to if I felt weird about having sex with my best friend? My other friends? These ideas have come to me more than once or twice...
But then I started to wonder why I fell in love with my friend in the first place. What was it that drew me to him? Was it the fact the he was always there for me? Always willing to listen to me even though I was bitching about something so trivial and juvenile? Was it because he was the shoulder I needed to lean on when I was feeling down? The truth is that the answer to all these questions is Yes... My friend was providing me something that I was lacking, but a part of me always knew that I was confusing my friend's role. I was seeing him as a boyfriend when the truth of the matter is that he was only a friend.
Glasses and I would go to lunches and dinners and he would always call them "non-dates," but a part of me wanted to always ask: "Why can't this be a real date? Everything is perfect..." The conversation is always flowing and there is no awkwardness between us...
When my other friends would ask me if I had a crush on Glasses, I would always scoff and outwardly deny my feelings for him: "Me have a crush on Glasses? No way! You are so wrong... we are just friends!" But I knew I was always transparent about my real feelings for Glasses.
Even though I've tried convincing myself that my feelings for Glasses are just my way of dealing with the fact that I'm lonely and trying to make a relationship out of nothing, I can't but help feeling jealous seeing Glasses on dates at Bardo or sipping wine with a stranger at the bar... Or stalking his Facebook page once a day at least! [Who is this guy he added as a Friend!?! Hum... he likes his photo, huh?]
For now I'm trying to put my feelings about Glasses in perspective... We're just friends.... But why can't I stop thinking about him? And Ugh... Why hasn't he replied to my text about meeting him tonight for dinner?

Red

I had heard about the wonders of the outside world from my friends, but I never got to fully experience it; and it was a marvel of mine to do so. Every morning and evening as I saw a glimpse of the room, I wished that it would be me who would be selected to wander the bustling streets of Beirut; alas, it never was so. Until last Saturday that is… I felt a shiver run up and down my entire being as I felt his warm hands touch against me – I felt giddy with excitement. So this is what it must feel like to be anxious, scared, and excited all at the same time, I thought. I could already imagine the fun and adventure that lay ahead of me that evening.

The minute I stepped out of the house, the pleasant evening breeze greeted me like a long-lost friend. Its cool touch against my skin was welcoming and accepting. I walked the streets with an ease and confidence I had not known I possessed… but little did I know that the feeling would not remain until the rest of the evening. Others looked at me and smiled, others giggled and tried to pathetical hide their amusement under their noses; but I saw them all. I suddenly turned an even darker shade of red! Where they making fun of me? The thought came to my mind in a flash. I walked faster, trying to hide in the shadows; but it was no use.

The pub was packed to the brim with party-goers and their prying eyes bore into mine with sly smiles and evil grins. Sitting on a barstool, I hoped and prayed that no one would notice me; but again it was no use.

“OMG! What the hell is he wearing?”

“He looks so nasty in those pants!”

“Seriously? Does he not own a mirror?”

Their words reached my ears like piercing cries although they were whispers. Why where they judging me? Why is it so wrong to be different? My embarrassment slowly, but surely turned into anger. I looked at all the different colors of the other jeans… they were all the same; varying hues of the same colors of blue and black, whereas I stood out in my red-brightness. Feeling a surge of courage, I stood from my bar-stool and danced to the music blaring out from the speakers.

To be different… What does it really mean? I had foolishly assumed that these jeans in this specific pub would accept me for who I am because they too are different… Instead of accepting me as one of them – something different and brave – they turned against me. I was hoping to seek refuge from the outside world by rushing into this pub where being different is meant to be the norm… but that night, it wasn’t so.

Once home, I heard him heave a heavy and defeated sigh as he undressed me. He lifted me up and starred into my eyes with a look that I knew it meant that it was over… He was saying good-bye. A part of me wanted to beg him not to give up on me, but I knew it was too late.

“What a waste of money,” I heard him say as he folded me. I felt a shudder go through me and a lone tear made its way down my cheek leaving a hot trail behind.

Be different… embrace your uniqueness! I wanted to shout it out to him. Don’t let others tell you how to live your life! But my words never left my lips.

He gently patted and returned me to my rightful place, and I saw the outside world one last time before he shut the wood paneled closet doors.

“So was it as fun as you always thought it would be?”

“Did he take you to that pub he always takes us? Did you enjoy the music? That DJ always knows what songs to play!”

“Come on! Why aren’t you telling us?”

Their voices bombarded my ears and I felt a lump in my throat. They wouldn’t understand what I was feeling… they weren’t as different as I am. They would have easily blended in with that crowd; they just wouldn’t understand...

“I guess people are just not ready to accept those that are different yet… even those that take pride in claiming to be unique.”

The voices stopped… I closed my somber eyes and went to sleep knowing I’ll never walk those streets again.

Why Straight Men Hate Me and Gay Guys Don't Want to Date Me

Hi everyone. My name is Gary. I'm 23 years old... and yes... I've been single since 2004. At first, I used to feel ashamed talking about the many years of "singlehood" I've had, but with time I've grown wiser (I guess... More like I hope) and I've become more comfortable talking about it. I'm not ashamed to admit that I'm single... Yes, it is lonely; yes, it is sad... In the beginning, I used to tell myself, "Who needs to be tied down?" "Why chose one player when I can have have the whole team?" "Why chose one color of the rainbow when I can have all?" "I don't need a man to tie me down..." However, as the years went by I've realized what these all were: These were excuses. Pathetic and sad excuses I had dragged and used over and over again. It took me a while to know the truth, but I think a part of me always knew it but refused to believe it. Call me a "hopeless romantic" but I never lost my faith in love and in finding the "one". I'm a sucker for corny Hollywood romantic-comedies and cheap romance novels... But those were all toxic to my self-esteem. They helped build this fictional idea of what I thought love and relationship "should" be like... what they "must" be like. However, as they say, experience is and was the best teacher I've ever had. Thinking back about the past, I can honestly say I've only been in one relationship... and it was my first one too. It was during my awkward high school days when I wasn't so sure if I was gay or not... Thinking about it now, I wouldn't even label it a "relationship". It was a total mess and it's sad to know that I consider that part of my life as the longest relationship that I've ever had. Kissing in the bathroom secretly, sending each other messages in "code", seeing each other on weekends for only half-an-hour... Not what I would call "romance-book" material! Suffice to say, once high school was over so was my "relationship".
Dating at AUB was not that different either. Nothing much had changed regarding my "relationship status". It was during this period that I discovered the landmark of online man-choosing, i.e., Manjam and Gaydar. I created a profile using my most provocative pictures. I tried to express my quirky personality by writing a funny description about myself... I thought I was surely a catch. Any guy is lucky to have me! I would think to myself. Unfortunately, I only attracted the scum of the website. No one read my profile description... I just got cock-pics and badly spelled one-liners that would make a second-grader glad to be able to spell: "me watns 2 fuk u ze goodies wayz!" The online man-catalog made me repulse males... but that didn't stop me from meeting them in cafes, their apartments, or in other shady places. And every time I went there, I thought to myself: "What the hell am I doing here?"
It was during this time that I learned something about why I'll always be single... One guy I was occasionally meeting up because he "likes my personality" but the funny thing... We never talked much... said something that really struck a cord with me. I asked him why we never hung out anywhere else but his bedroom and he looked at me and said with a smirk: "I can only be seen with you in my bedroom. I don't want everyone to know I'm gay."
"Why because I look gay?" I countered.
He replied with a laugh as he made the bed (while I was still in it - taking that as a cue to get the hell out of there), "Have you seen yourself?" That was his reply. As though that were a good enough answer to my question.
And then it all dawned on me... It became clear as a diamond carat ring... Gay guys don't date me because I act "too gay". Straight men hate me because I represent everything they've been taught by society to be wrong and disgraceful. Men - REAL men - don't cry in public, don't express their emotions, don't show any weakness, are supposed to be confident and think they are right even when they are dead scared and wrong... I wasn't anything like that. I cry in public, I squeal when excited or happy... I'm just gay. As I sat there watching him strut around his "gay-only" bedroom I actually felt a little sorry for him. Here he was, a gay man, trying desperately to fit in with his "straight counterparts". Suddenly my sympathy towards him turned to anger, "Well I can't be seen with a gay-guy in denial!" I retorted, hoping I'd hurt him enough. He turned to me and said, "I'd rather be in the closest then out there."
What these gays-in-denial don't know is that its "feminine" gay guys like me that are actually out there doing something for the community. We're the ones being ridiculed on the street day in and out, but we still leave our houses; not because we have to, but because by exposing people to us we hope to raise awareness that gay guys do exists and not all of us are "fictional-Western creations". No. We are living, breathing things that walk, talk, and think.
The issue of femininity has always left a sour taste in my mouth. I never think of myself as feminine. To me, femininity and masculinity are dimensional not categorical; its a spectrum, not a black or white category. Yes, I do act "feminine" at times, but that's just who I am. At first, I tried to "macho" myself up for these losers I met up with... but after a while, it got tiring. Why should I pretend to be someone I'm not? It took me a long time to accept myself and I wasn't going to change for anyone. When I would still chat up with guys on MSN off my Manjam account, and whenever they would ask me: "R u fem or st8 acting" I always respond, "what does a fem act like?" The same answer is what I routinely received, "I dunno." Its paradoxical almost how gay men don't mind having sex with feminine guys, but wouldn't want to be caught dead dating or be seen with one in public. Its almost sad...
Thinking about it now... I''ve decided that no guy is truly worth changing myself for. No one is worth the hassle and the drama. If someone is truly interested in me then they would like the whole package, regardless of the fact that I squeal like a 14 year-old high school girl when I see my friends. The more gay guys I met in Lebanon, the more I started to appreciate my dog instead. Unlike these gays-so-far-in-the-closet-

they-can-see-Narnia dudes, my dog doesn't mind being seen with me outside the confides of my bedroom (I hope this doesn't portray the image of me and my dog having sex!)
Straight men will always have difficulty accepting me... they'll always hate me. I'm everything that is "wrong" with society today. I'm the bringer of "diseases" and "Godly-shame". Gay men will never date me because they have difficulty accepting themselves. Yes, I may sound cocky and arrogant, but I consider myself liberated. I don't worry whether or not people walking in the street will know I'm gay because I honestly don't care. I know its wrong for me to think that all gay guys are in denial, I know some gay guys cannot afford the luxury to be out to their parents and friends; but I'm not referring to the ones who might be stoned to death because they are gay, I'm talking about those guys who are SO obviously gay and hang out in ALL the gay places but still look down at the feminine guys. The guys who displace and project their own insecurities about homosexuality onto others. Guys who are SO afraid of being gay that they try to be as macho as possible because they try to repress their gayness. And the thing that really bugs me is that "feminine" guys continue to go after these not-so-deserving scrubs... I guess one has to do with what they have.
Straight men may hate me... That I cannot change... But there is one thing that I can change and that is not obsess about not dating anyone! And as a friend of mine once said, "Gary, you're heart belongs to the person you have yet to meet." Until then...

Gary