Maybe we should take a break

There are many ways to break up a relationship, some are creative (sending a voice-recorded build-a-bear with the message "I think we should break up") and some are just lame (texts, IMs, over the phone... or in any way that involves saying "it's me, not you"), but, no matter how you do it, it's still going to be painful.

You know what's a bad way of breaking up with someone?

Telling them that you still love him, that you need him or that you feel that he is the one, but that you don't really know what's going on, what's going to happen between you and that... maybe, the best thing to do, is take a little break.

Oh come on.

I don't want to be rude, or crush anyone's hopes, that is the last thing I want to do, I don't kick when the bitch is on the floor already.

But, oh come on!

"I'm not breaking up with you, I just need a break"

Are you listening to yourself?

If you can't handle the relationship, then just go ahead and just say it, ending a relationship now instead of extending the date for a week or three, it'll only make it worse,

if not for you, do it for him. Break it up.

We need to talk

a.k.a. "Relationship breakers, a cliché compilation and why they suck (Part 1)"

We need to talk.

Nothing good comes out of "we need to talk," ever. Not only is that a phrase no one wants to hear, it's a phrase dreaded everywhere and in every language possible. Why? Because it turns something ordinary and casual (talking) and phrase it as the most important thing you'll be doing. 

I know I've covered some relationship topics before, I may not know all but I've certainly heard almost everything there is to hear, and if there's something I don't want to hear, ever, is this:

You deserve better than me.

Who was the idiot who came up with this? I'll tell you who: a loser, a quitter, and someone who probably didn't the deserve to be in a relationship in the first place.

Let me tell you something about what "you deserve better" implies:

First, it implies that you know you are doing a lousy job as a boyfriend. Not only that, it also makes it pretty clear you have yourself in a low standard, to even think you are with someone who you don't "deserve".

And third, and maybe the most important thing: It means that even though you know you are doing a bad job, you prefer to take the easy road and quit the relationship, instead of working and hoping and trying to improve.

Because that's just it, here's the ironic twist:

Saying "you deserve better" may actually be a true statement, if the guy is willingly giving up the relationship because he can't make the effort of working to be better... then you DEFINATELY deserve better.

And the worst part is, we don't like "better". We don't want, need or seek better. We are in this relationship because WE want to be in it. Right?

I'm going to be as honest as I can allow myself in this one and say it: I work hard to be in a good relationship. I know, I know, that's not what a relationship is supposed to be, like everything else it has to have a balance, not everything will be sugar-coated and pink. It isn't. But if I can do anything to make my man feel better, godammit I will, because that's what it's all about.

I haven't had this one applied to me, but it happened to a girlfriend of mine, I was a friend of both parties involved and it wasn't a pretty sight. 

So, what the fuck?

In his words... "She needs someone better, She's so amazing but I don't deserve her!"

In her words... "I don't know what happened, he just said he couldn't be with me anymore, that I needed to find someone better!"

Let me say it once more: What. The. Fuck?

There's only one thing that I can say, and it is this: Girl, if he's not willing to be better for you, then you REALLY deserve something better.

Quédate...

Te pedí que te quedaras, para que las lagrimas no pudiesen llegar.

It's the little things that matter.

It's the little things, a gentle touch, a calm kiss, him just grabbing your hand and holding it, and don't get me started on the cuddling... those small details are the ones that really, really let you know... how much in love you really are. For me, holding hands can, and has had as much, effect on my emotions as a kiss. I'm a romantic, can't help myself.

Remember the chocolate guy ? It all started because he didn't mind holding my hand in public. It may sound (it totally is) pathetic, but living in a small town has had it's effects, and finding a guy willing to hold my hand while walking in a park, a hell of a highlight in my life. A straight guy, small detail I didn't want to understand until he started dating a really good girl-friend of mine.

People have always told me that I'm a really loud fag, and that I don't care about what other "normal" people think. Which is totally true, I don't give a flying fuck what people think about who I am as a sexual being; but that doesn't mean I'm having hot-n-steamy gay sex in public, (not that I wouldn't want some hot-n-steamy gay sex, mind you) it means that if I want to hold hands with the guy I love, I will freaking do it no matter who is watching. That's all I ask, you know? I don't find it fair that every time I go out I see at least 2 or 3 straight couples almost having sex in a park (in broad daylight, no less), but two guys holding hands ? NO FREAKING WAY, the outrage! The shame!

WTF?

Being side-tracked, and not in the good way.

Note: This took place over a year ago.
He was almost leaving, he already had his seatbelt on, his door open, I was just outside, my mind made up - It's today, I'm going to tell him right now! - and the moment I was about to say it... he offered me a piece of chocolate.

I was completely side-tracked, without knowing what else to do, I accepted. So he took my hand, and gave me a small piece. I couldn't do anything else.

Fag: *hugs* I... I... (have a freaking chocolate in my freaking hand ! God dammit) I... just leave ! BYE !

I was already inside my house before he was even gone.

Stupid chocolate, disappeared a moment after.

I'm a cuddler.

I'm a cuddler, and if there's one thing I love to do with the people I like is cuddling, with my boyfriends and best friends is no exception.

Except that... I don't have a boyfriend to cuddle with, that the only real friend I have left that would help, can't. And that the person I really, really, want (need) to cuddle with... hasn't talked to me in over a month.

But I need the cuddling, the warmth it gives... I needed it so much that I did the last thing I thought I'd ever do for it.

I called an ex.

Not just any ex, my first official boyfriend. The one who broke it off because I didn't want to have sex with. The one who's only real attribute (besides his really gorgeous ass) was that he liked me. No chemistry, no real connection, just him wanting to be sexually intimate with me and me wanting to be with him emotionally. Neither of us got what we wanted.

Last week, almost two years after we had broken up, He logged on and we chatted a bit, he told me he was back in town for the rest of the month. "How about you, coming over to my place?" he said.

And I, against all the warning signs popping in my head, accepted.

....

Fast-forward >> I'm at his place, he's taking a shower... and I feel like shit.

Just because I needed someone to cuddle.

Ex-Sighting

I haven't had that many boyfriends in my life, and for some weird reason... I never see them again after we've broken up, my first boyfriend moved out of town a couple of months after, the second one just disappeared from my radar, etc. The last one... we broke up 2 months ago and I just saw him at the mall. I neeever go to the mall, ever. And when I finally go, he's there. Damn it.

The thing is, I didn't want to break it up, I was really starting to love him, and wanted to go on for a long time, but he gave up. He said so himself, he didn't feel like trying... so I said "fuck it," kissed him a last time, told him "I guess this was it... bye" and left.

It was our 3rd month anniversary.

Jesus in da house! (I'm sooo going to Hell)

It may seem obvious to some, specially those who actually know me, that I'm not a religious person. I think that praying has no actual value towards the movement of the world and that it's just a waste of time, time that could be used more effectively towards actually doing something to help yourself. Last time I went to a church, it was to see a friend play piano to celebrate a.... bishop's (???) birthday, and I didn't even enter, it was at the courtyard.

But today, same friend invited me to hear his girlfriend sing with a choir, this one was in the inside of the biggest church there is in this state, anyway as the mass kept on going, I went to this room called "The Room of Miracles". The whole room felt different than what I've grown to know as the inside of a church, there was something else, I felt hope. An almost tangible sense of hope. An old lady with crutches using all of her strength to sit, caressing a saint's clothing and then her legs... Half of the room had pictures, notes, clothing, all of them with a writing on them, some asking for a prayer to help cure a disease, some for protection, to bring a son back from Irak safely... some only asked for prayers from fellow believers, not money, nor any financial aid, just for your time and faith.

Just a prayer.

So I did what I'd never though I'd do again, something I hadn't done since I was a loved-deprived high-school boy (not really, but yes)... I went to a stool that had just been cleared, with 2 candles in front of me, a choir singing in the background, and I prayed.

I prayed, to any God, Goddess, or Entity, to Whatever this may concern: This is what I ask for, clarity. To know what to do before the oportunity leaves my hands, before it's too late, before it's gone for good. I pray, I implore and ask that the person I love the most, for who I've moved earth, water and fat... to please be happy, even if that means he won't be with me... and if so, I ask and pray for the opportunity and the chance to love someone else as much as the way I love him...

... and world peace.

Edit: That was such an old-movie-reference (Miss Congeniality, duuh)

I laughed...

I laughed.

And now you think I don't care.

Then, when you finally left me by my own, I cried.

But when it mattered to you, I laughed.

I know I shouldn't have... God, I didn't even wanted to.

But I laughed, I couldn't say what I really thought. I couldn't tell you what I really felt.

And then you left; you finally gave up on me, on us.

I'm sorry I laughed.

May I have the next dance?

As I was watching youtube with my best friend (we were bored so we started looking for videos of cute guys kissing), we stumbled with this.

Accepting the fact I was gay didn't take me long, even though I had to lie in front of my whole class, the moment I understood what "gay" was, was the moment I said "Oh, so that's what it's called? Cool." (Note: Read, if you haven't, the Innocence post, this is kind of a follow up)

I had it pretty easy on myself.

But accepting yourself is one thing, being accepted by the one you love...

When I finished junior-high, we had a prom (per se), we each went on our own and had a small waltz at the beginning, luckily I had my best girl as my partner. Helmet-Head looked really cute, he sat next to me at dinner, he still didn't know I loved him, and then there was... the dancing.

I say I have a pretty lousy memory, and it's true, but I'll never forget what happened that night.

No, we didn't kiss.

But we danced.

I loved him very much, and I knew that after that night we wouldn't be seeing each other, his parents wanted a different school than the one I was going to.

That was going to be our last night together (next time I saw him was 3 years after that), and he asked me if I wanted to dance with him.

Fuck yeah!

(Post-Edit Note: For those wondering... No, nothing happened with him after that; he was straight, so he chickened out of our friendship when he found out about my crush.)

Life's a song...

Why can’t life be a musical? First of all, because half of my friends would commit suicide before the intro, and secondly, if life were a musical… this would happen:

Well, not as glamorous as you'd expect it, but I'm sure Life would make this kind of musical.

Lately I’ve been wondering why life can’t be a musical (I know, I know, really gay of me, let me be)… I’m a huge Buffy fan, I absolutely loved the special musical episode, Hairspray? Chicago? Cats? Across The Universe? Heck, I’ve even watched High School Musical (1 and 2).

I’m not into the idea only because everyone would have a great voice and amazing dancing skills, but because, musicals are honest. There’s an honesty that only requires a minimum effort to capture, you know what’s happening with everyone by just hearing out a bit of the tune they are dancing/singing to. Life would be so much easier, wouldn't it? You'd knew you are screwing things up with your significant other just by hearing them sing or something. So much easier, yet...

Why can't this happen? I'm not asking why can't my boyfriend just start singing his feelings or fears, I'm asking, why can't we just do that? Just... say what's really in our minds without fear. I'm pretty much talking from experience here, but I know I'm not the only one who feels like this (right?). What I really want, aside from being able to sing, is honesty. One of my life's motto is to never complain unless I'm doing something about it, and so I promise this: I promise that I'll live according to a musical's honesty. That I'll say what I feel, when I feel it.

Trying to go back to my point, if there is one, is that… life sucks, songs or no songs, get used to it. No, no, I’m kidding. I’m still hoping for a day when I’m out shopping or something and, out of nowhere, people start singing and dancing for something as trivial as napkins. I guess I’ll keep on hoping.

Note: I’m blaming this post on a friend of mine who made me watch Across The Universe, but who am I kidding? I was dying to watch the movie around 6 months before it came out (and never got to watch it till almost a year after that. Watch it if you are in the mood.

I think I left my innocence in the backseat of your car...

When I was 14, feelings towards Lestat (vampire lover, if you have to know) developed in an almost favorable way. I told him I liked him and, not a moment later, he started using that to his advantage. He knew that if he ever needed something, a few hugs and some patting (I’m not kidding) was all it took for me to do it. This went over for a couple of years, we slowly drifted apart. Then, a year ago or so, I had the chance of catching up with him for a while and, guess what? He confessed he had a thing for me for a while… yeah, I wanted to kill him.

Not much to report for the next couple of years… until a month before going to college.

I don’t even remember how I got there, but when I was 18, I found a gay-website with listings of people in MY city; needless to say, I was fascinated. I quickly registered (free!) and asked myself calmly “What’s there to lose?” Soon afterwards I received an instant message from a 21-year-old guy that lived at the other side of the city, we chatted for 8 hours non-stop, and the next day he picked me up from work. It was my first, real, date, and the guy was gorgeous. I never thought I’d actually find a decent-looking person thru that shabby site, but I was so wrong. We dated for a month, I asked him to be my boyfriend, he accepted. We didn’t last long, unfortunately. It was a really confusing time for me, never had a boyfriend before and I actually didn’t know what to do or how to act. My first kiss (regular and french), my first make-out session… they all took place almost one after the other in less than an hour. I guess it was Destiny’s way of saying “I owed you, kid, here you go! Have fun!”

Anyway, I noticed this two stories didn’t make much of a post individually as I’d previously planned so there you go, I won’t be posting this frequently (1 post per day) but I’ll try to keep a steady rhythm on the updates.

Innocence

When I was 9 years old, I changed school once again (my mum wanted the best and, apparently, every year there were better schools so I never quite had the chance of making friends), didn’t know a single kid, I was so shy. For some reason, I took an English class for kids younger than I was, and that’s where I met my first friend, my first best-friend, my first “boyfriend.” We would hang out all free-periods, beg our parents for more playtime. I don’t really remember who started it, but after a while, we started holding hands, not knowing that it was socially incorrect. It felt good, nice, warm… we didn’t want to stop doing it.

And of course, not a single minute passed when we did this at school, everyone, and I do mean everyone, threw as many nasty comments as they could. That forced us out of it, the whole friendship. What else could you expect? I was 9 and he was only 8.

Three years later, I had made some friends over the years but it wasn’t till I met Helmet-Head (amazing straight hair) that I went down that same road all over again. He was the new kid, shy as I once had been. I didn’t know why but I needed to be his friend. I introduced him to my friends, started hanging out and six months after I realized I liked him more than I liked my other friends. It didn’t take that long afterwards to finally admit it to myself, I was in love with him (or at least, that’s what I thought love was). I never told him, I didn’t need to, he knew.

The funny thing is… I never thought there was something wrong with me or with what I was feeling. My innocence would prevail, for now.

I still felt something for Helmet-Head alter summer vacations (even though he changed schools) and it was then, when I told someone for the first time I had a crush on a guy. Guess where this is going… yes. I got my first nickname “Porky the gay” (not the cleverest thing, but that’s 13-year-old bullying for you). The whole thing just… it took me a while to realize what “gay” meant and even more to understand that it was wrong to be gay. It still hurts a little when I think about it, my stupid-ass teacher convinced me to go up to the front of the classroom and tell everyone I was just playing, that I was not gay, that I was just testing their friendship.

They quickly got over it... I don't know if I ever did.