I got ready for the date and headed off on my motorbike to his house, behind the church. Thats right folks, he lived at the Rectory. I pulled up in his driveway, next to the construction site that was his church being rebuilt. This part of the story is better told from the perspective of The Priest, who delighted in telling any and all about the exciting arrival of his date that night, it goes a little something like this:

I heard a sound and headed outside knowing that my date had arrived. There he was, sitting atop a motorbike, dressed in jeans and a leather jacket. Very manly. He takes his helmet off and I see the tattoo on his neck. Very sexy.  I walk down to greet him and… with a wave and a very gay tone I am greeted with ‘Hallooooo’, shattering, at least, the manly side of the illusion.

Of course the above story sounds better in person, ’cause then you hear the way I say halloooo.

The date at Steves goes well to begin with. We both enjoy fine wine and food, and easily found items on the menu that we could share and enjoy. The conversation flowed very easily. Until we reached the topic of what each of us were looking for in all of this ‘dating’ scene.

Snag one

As any of my avid readers know, at this time in my life I was certainly not looking for a boyfriend. I didn’t want to even entertain the idea of entering into yet another relationship that would inevitably end up hurting me. I also had no qualms in saying so. The Priest on the other hand was looking for a long term relationship. I maintained that at most I was able to offer ‘dating’, or friends-with-benefits.

The conversation rapidly intensified. The Priest was about to say something and stopped himself, instead excusing himself to go to the bathroom. I sat there, the intensity of the conversation reverberating in my head. I started to think what was the point in this date continuing. Clearly we wanted very different things. We should just say thanks for the nice meal, it was nice to meet you and have a nice life.

When he returned from the bathroom I asked what he was about to say. Not surprisingly, he was also thinking what was the point to continuing. I admitted I had thought the same thing. We both took a moment to take in what had just transpired. I clearly remember taking in a deep breath, needing that moment to let it all sink in.

The silence filled the space in between us. It was palpable. Uncomfortable. At this point, we should have both taken the opportunity to walk away. To admit then and there, before it all started that this potential relationship would never work out. Save the effort, and the eventual, inevitable, hurt.

Neither of us took the opportunity. Instead, at almost the same time, we blurted out that perhaps we should just take a step back. Spend some time with each other. Go on a few dates and see how things went. I guess at this point, The Priest figured he could win me over and convince me to be his boyfriend. I had mixed feelings about it all, clear and set in my mind that I was.

I was intrigued though, and this is what swung my mind. Damn curiosity…

The song ended, and as we came up for air, Brett declared ‘Right, I’m off. Seeya!’ and he left. No-one could blame the guy. He had spent all night questioning the date that he was on, citing my hickie as a reason for doubting that we were in fact on a date. His doubt cemented by the fact that Jude started making out with me right in front of him – remember that in my mind we were never on a date.

I immediately felt bad when Brett left. Not because I had lured him out on a date with a hickie and then made out with another guy. No. I felt bad because I could understand how Brett might have been feeling.

Jude wasted no time in flirting with me some more, dancing right up against me. Kissing me. I allowed myself to be caught up in the moment with Jude. He took me over to introduce me to his friends that he was with that night.

We spent some of the time chatting, and then the topic of what we each did for work came up. I explained that I was a Public Servant and then he didn’t want to admit what he did for work. He said he didn’t want to tell me as he didn’t want me to judge. Interesting… What kind of job would someone be ashamed of?

While chatting with his friends one of the guys let slip a little comment. Which was made in jest but sadly was just out of ear shot. It was actually a very big clue as to what Jude did for a job.

I continued to push the point with Jude and was met with ‘C’mon you know already’ alluding to the comment his friend had made. I insisted that I hadn’t heard a thing. Then, he finally told me.

Are you sitting down? Ready for the drumroll to start?

Jude told me that he was a… Priest.

a Priest… huh? With the coffee… or sex. With the pouncing and making out on the dance floor. With the flirting and the groping…

Before long, Jude’s friends decided to leave and Jude was at an impasse, leave with the friends that he came with or stay with the guy that he hooked-up with. I am still unsure if it was genuine or if he was feigning the coyness, but the back and forth nature of the conversation we had at that time echoed the initial conversations we had about coffee… or sex.

Neither of us were ready to leave yet, I am sure mostly due to wanting to spend more time with each other. I wanted to head out to Connections (a place I would find out later that Jude absolutely hated) and Jude was happy to string along. I let Jude know that he could come home with me that night. After all, I couldn’t just ditch him after his friends had gone home.

So we left for Connections, had some more to drink, more dirty dancing and making out on the dance floor. Then Jude started the ‘what was to become standard’ dance of, backwards/forwards on the topic of coming home with me and having sex with me.

I made the choice for him, partly for me. I said that he should come home with me but that we wouldn’t have sex, this was our ‘first date’ after all. I figured that a one night stand can so easily become just that, a one night stand, and I wanted to see Jude again.

Jude did come home with me that night. We didn’t have sex. He had the hiccups for over an hour while laying in bed together.

In the morning I walked him back to his friends house where his car was and he drove me home. He was too hung over to attend the Cathedral where he had promised to help out with the service, instead opting to go home to bed and recover.

I was surprised by the revelation, that Jude was a Priest. He sure didn’t behave like any Priest that I had ever met before. I was intrigued. Fascinated even. At the time I remember thinking, that I was gonna sleep with a Priest, now thats something interesting, different – story worthy.

I excitedly waited the next time that we would meet up again. I also excitedly awaited my opportunity to shag a Priest, seriously though… what single gay guy wouldn’t want to give that one a try?

I had started out that week, certain of the direction of my life. Single, very happily single. Dating. Hook-ups. Catching up with friends. Sleeping alone. This was how I pictured things for a long time to come. This is how I wanted things, for a long time to come.

I look back on the culmination of these events. Catching my stride in dating on Grindr. Meeting Jude, who couldn’t make up his mind between coffee and sex. That damn taxi and Brett, who made it clear the first night that we were just friends. Getting that giant hickie – my tramp stamp – and how that made Brett question being on a date. Finally, meeting Jude in person.

I do wonder if any off of those things had not occurred, what would the outcome have been.

What if Brett didn’t know Jude through a mutual friend. I would not have met Jude.

If Roger hadn’t marked me with the giant hickie – Brett would have thought that he was on a date, and might have acted on it, flirted with me. Kissed me. Would we have gone to the court? Would I still have met Jude? If so, he would have seen me there with Brett. We wouldn’t have made out then that night.

What if Brett had of come home with me that first night. If the taxi was a moment later, or didn’t come at all. Would that have meant no Roger and no hickie? Second dates, third dates with Brett? No roller derby? No going to the Court?

Had I have not hit my stride with dating on Grindr, perhaps none of it would have happened. No chatting with Jude. No two date in one night. No Roger and the hickie. No Brett, and no meeting Jude at the Court.

There are a lot of maybes and what ifs in this story. A lot of looking back and wondering how things might have been different. But it wasn’t, it can’t be.

The culmination of events lead me to meet Jude. This would have a lasting impact on me. See my whole life change. In ways that I never thought it would, and in ways none of my friends would ever have believed possible.

I have much to say about my year with Jude. While the ending may already be known. I feel the need to tell the story, and that it will still be a worthwhile read even if we have skipped to the last page before starting. I hope that the coming posts attract your attention, that they will at least entertain you while you are reading them, and at best, create a connection between writer and reader.

Elephant is my perfect break-up song.

to really get a feel for the pain and emotion in this song, follow the YouTube link, lyrics are after the break.

Well this has got to die

I said, this has got to stop
This has got to lie down
With someone else on top

Well, you can keep me pinned
It’s easier to tease
But you can’t paint an elephant
Quite as good as she

And she may cry like a baby
And she may drive me Crazy
‘Cause I am lately lonely

So why’d you have to lie?
I take it I’m your crutch
The pillow in your pillow case
Is easier to touch

And when you think you’ve sinned
Do you fall upon your knees?
Or d’you sit within your picture?
Do you still forget the breeze?

And she may rise, if I sing you down
And she may wisely cling to the ground
Cause I am lately, horny
So why would she take me thorny?

What’s the point of this song? Or even singing?
You’ve already gone, why am I clinging?
Well I could throw it out, and I could live without
And I could do it all for you
I could be strong
Tell me if you want me to lie
‘Cause this has got to die

I said, this has got to stop
This has got to lie down, down
With someone else on top

You can both keep me pinned
‘Cause it’s easier to tease
But you can’t make me happy
Quite as good as me

Well you know that’s a lie

I am reminded of an episode of How I Met Your Mother, where the lead character talks about the culmination of small events, seemingly insignificant or routine. It is the small events that lead us to a single point where we find ourselves on the precipice of significant change.

This change saw me in a relationship, one that I clearly didn’t want and stated so right from the start. It was a relationship that would bring out traits within me that I am not proud of, one that would destroy my self confidence as a sexual being and one that would ultimately end up causing me a great deal of pain.

This time, it was different. The hurt was different. Worse. I found myself questioning the inner strength that I always believed to hold within.

It would be so easy to slip back into past habits of swearing off relationships and making a firm choice to be single. For good. Only sticking to it this time. Only I know that being single for ever isn’t a fate that I want for me. I want to find love again, and to be loved in return. Equally.

I have much to say about the past year of my life. Stories that are both good and bad. I hope that the journey you take with me in the coming posts (all back dated in the interests of timelines and continuity) is one that, at the very least, will interest you enough to keep reading.

This multi part story begins with ‘Two dates, one night‘.
An introduction to Jude in ‘Coffee? Sure, or…‘.
An important moment occurred in ‘a not so brief moment‘.
A mark was left in ‘concealer, foundation, toothpaste‘.
A chance meeting while out with friends in ‘I thought we were on a date, but…‘
Final thoughts in ‘Culmination‘

Image courtesy of secretdiaryofarookierollergirl

Have you ever been out with a ‘friend’ and suddenly found yourself on a date? This has happened to me twice. Clearly I don’t learn from past events <cheeky grin>

The time in question started with spare tickets for roller derby. I put a post on Facebook and asked around amongst my friends. Not much interest, so I decided to ask Brett, who I had met recently. ‘I have some spare tickets for roller derby, did you want to come?’ 

Brett had been out drinking on the day of roller derby. He met us slightly tipsy and with booze spilt and still wet on his shirt. Classy might not be the word to use here, but one thing is for sure, Brett is a fun guy to be around.

We made our perilous trip to Maidevale, grabbed a drink and mingled about watching the roller derby.

Roller Derby

We weren’t there long before Brett said to me ‘I thought we were on a date, but… you have a giant hickie on your neck!’

Wait, what now? Date? Since when was I on a date. I had no idea how to respond to that comment. How did ‘I have some spare tickets for roller derby, did you want to come?’  turn into ‘Hey Brett, wanna go on a date with me? We can go to roller derby.’

Remember that this is the Brett from ‘a not so brief moment‘, who if you haven’t yet read about, leapt into a taxi to go home just as I was about to invite him back to my place.

Further proof, for me at least, that roller derby was not, and was never meant to be, a date.

The comments continued on into the night, going so far as Brett consulting a friend via txt and them agreeing with him. Oh what these people must have thought, what I would have thought… rocking up on a what you think is a date and the guy has a giant hickie on his neck. Slut much! Sure thing much?

Seemingly not put off, and with the desire to get drunk and dance, Brett asked us all if we would like to continue on at The Court.

The Court, and being interrogated.

Not ready for the night to end, and with enough alcohol in my body to fuel me on, we all made our way to The Court. Brett bumped into some friends quite soon after we arrived and wasted no time in telling them that he ‘…thought he was on a date, but look at that giant hickie!!’. What was I to say to these strangers? The proof was right there, noticeable even in the poor light and smoke filled haze of the dance floor.

Deciding that I would ignore the comments and attempt to have a good time, I danced and drank. And suffered the relentless remarks from the group of people I was with.

Some guy came up to say hi to Brett, and already deciding that this would just be another person giving me a hard time about my ‘hickie on a date’, I ignored his presence and danced on with the girls. Brett tapped me on the shoulder and said, ‘Peter, I want to introduce you to someone.’

A surprise introduction.

‘Peter meet Jude. Jude meet Peter’. An introduction was made.

Wait! I thought, who now?!? ‘Hi Jude, nice to meet you.’

‘Hi Peter, Peter… ummm…’

‘Jude, as in Jude-your-dad-just-went-home this week???’

Standing before me, was none other than Jude from ‘Coffee? Sure, or…‘ There was instant attraction, this guy was every bit as cute, if not cuter that his profile, and his accent… oh that sexy British accent. Just – my – type!

We chatted for a short while on the dance floor, but once again, Jude couldn’t stay as he was otherwise engaged. There with friends. We said, ‘it’s nice to meet you’, and carried on our separate nights, or so I thought.
Jude appeared again a couple of times over the night. Each time dancing closer to me, flirting with me. By about the third visit he made, Jude had planted himself firmly in-between Brett and I. He was dancing really close this time, our bodies very nearly almost touching, and then…

Right in front of Brett, (who, remember, thought he was on a date with me), pounced on in and started making out with me. The kissing was good, really good. Passionate and sexy. I was really into Jude. Aroused by his dance moves and swooning over his sexy accent. Impressed by his directness. After almost completely losing interest in this guy, I was hooked and wanted more.

The song ended, and as we came up for air, Brett declared ‘Right, I’m off. Seeya!’

I guess the question of the hickie paled in comparison… ‘I thought we were on a date but… you’re making out with another guy!’

How though, does someone in their late (very late) 20s get a hickie? How… how… teenager!

One night while cursing around on Grindr, I was contacted by a cute and very buff flight attendant, Roger. Having gained a little confidence in the art of Grinding, I quickly said ‘yes’ to the offer of meeting up, with the very probable intention of hooking -up. We had both already starting drinking wine home alone, but soon enough, Roger arrived, open bottle of wine in his bag.

Roger arrived, just as cute as his pic, with a cheeky smile. Packaged in a tiny body like mine (can you be that short and still be a flight attendant?), I was very surprised to see he was also as buff as the picture he sent.

We poured a glass and wasted no time in getting down to the business at hand. While making out on the sofa, Roger quickly discovered a weakness of mine, one that he would continue to exploit for the duration of our time together.

You see, I have this spot on my neck, <quiver>, where I just love to be kissed. Bitten. Sucked. Licked. Touched… It makes me completely weak at the knees and will get me in the mood no matter how I feel at the start of it all. Roger learned very quickly how to make me  writhe in passion. This guy found my button and pressed it hard and often.

I was putty in Rogers hands.

Sparing the finer <edit: ‘finer’, scoff, what a choice of word to use here> details of what transpired next, let me just say that Roger knew how to do more than press the button on my neck, he found all my buttons, and pressed as many at the same time as he was physically able.

The mark that Roger left on my neck lasted for days. It got me comments at work. Giggles from friends. It even had a starring role in a night that was yet to come… ‘I thought we were on a date, but…’

When it came time to leave The Garden, I stood outside with Brett stuck in one of those moments of uncertainty. The ones that seem to last ever so much longer than they actually do. The night had gone well, I was open to the idea of it not ending yet. Did Brett feel the same? Quickly tiring of the moment lasting so long, I was on the verge of asking Brett if he wanted to come back to my place, words forming and about to be spoken… then a cab pulled up and Brett spoke before me and exclaimed he would take the cab home.

The moment ended.

We said our good byes and thanked each other for a nice evening. Brett left in the cab, and I strolled the short walk home. At least I knew that Brett and I would definitely only be friends. Clearly Brett was not interested in anything more. What else was I expected to think?

A cab pulling up, perfectly timed. It was one of those seemingly insignificant events. That single moment shaped my thoughts on Brett. Moulded my mind about the kind of friendship that we would have. It would factor in, largely, the next time that Brett and I would see each other. I didn’t know at the time just how significant that moment would be.

It does make me wonder what might have been different if the cab was just a second later, or didn’t even pull up at all.

I first started chatting to Jude while his dad was visiting from back home in the UK. We hit it off quite well on Grindr and both said that we would like to meet in person, as friends. I asked Jude if he would like to meet up one night during the week and he said he would like to, only his dad was here and it was hard to get away.

We chatted on and off for the better part of the month, often at Jude’s initiation. Jude started to ask me if I wanted to meet up on a fairly regular basis – even though his dad was still here. I would say yes and offer a suggestion of a wine bar. Jude would always say he couldn’t make it out at night or for too long, you know, cause his dad was here.

So one day I asked for coffee. ‘How bout we just meet for coffee?’
‘Sure.’ he replied, ‘…or we could just meet for sex.’

<blink blink> hang on a second here, this guy initially wanted to only meet as friends, we got on quite well when we chatted, but doing the dutiful son thing, we could never meet up. Or so it seemed. Hmmm…

This pattern of conversation continued on for the better part of the month, pretty much the length of time that his dad was staying in town. We would chat, make plans for coffee, then Jude would want to just meet for sex, and always pull out or cancel.

I was quickly getting tired of the way the conversation would go, after all, if all he wanted was a quick shag, why not just say that from the get go. What was with all the conversation? The niceness. The raised hopes and cancellations. As far as I was was concerned, it was Grindr, if you wanted sex, all you had to do was say so. Simple. Done.

Feeling a bit messed around by the yes no nature of the conversations with Jude, my interests wondered elsewhere, maybe things would change after his dad left. For now, I would busy myself with guys that actually did meet up, that actually said they wanted sex and followed through.

See you when your dad leaves Jude, for now… Peter is busy.

Finding more success with Grindr, I managed to double book myself one evening, well not quite double book, one engagement was meeting a guy only as friends, the other was definitely a hook-up.

The night started out with meeting up with Jackson. We had chatted for a bit on Grindr and decided to see if we would hit it off as friends. Jackson and I had quite different interests, for example, he was really into cars, whereas for me, when it comes to cars, foot goes down, car moves forward – <beep beep>. Still I thought it would be good to expand the social circle and add a bit of diversity. Next on the agenda was meeting Pete, at his house. For one thing. Sex. We really hadn’t chatted about much other than that.

Uhhhh, did that guy just hit on me?

Jackson and I planned to meet up at The Botanica. When I got there I did a quick sweep of the place to see if Jackson had found a spot to sit, not finding him, I settled down in a chair by the front door where I would be easily spotted. Before long a guy starts to approach me, but hang on, this isn’t what Jackson looks like… This stranger had come to ask me about my tattoo, which still quite new, I would often be surprised when people asked me about the ink on my neck. We chatted for a few moments, with him crouched down beside me. During the conversation I started to think this guy was hitting on me, but being that I was in a straight place, I wasn’t going to take my chances. Besides, Jackson should be here any minute.

I tend to be a little on edge when out at a straight venue, especially if I am sitting on my own. Being quite obviously gay, I tend to attract the kind of attention that one in that situation does not want to attract.

The problem with two dates in one night

Soon enough Jackson had arrived and that uneasy feeling quickly left as we chatted freely, shared a drink and some food. The time passed reasonably quickly and before too long my phone was beeping away with messages from Pete asking if I would be round soon and where I was. Herein lies the problem with booking two dates in the one night – albeit for different – ahem – purposes. I really did enjoy the conversation and company of Jackson, and while I hinted and attempted to leave within enough time to not be late for Pete, while standing outside the conversation still didn’t die. Eventually, I had to say that I was running late and had to go, but that ‘we should do this again’ and in the way that I actually meant it.

A quick txt to Pete to let him know I was on my way, and I jumped on my bike and headed off for date number two.

C’mon! It’s Indiana Jones!

Arriving at Pete’s house took much less time that I had thought. I was, I have to admit, a little nervous. It hasn’t been that many times that I had done this after all. I mean arriving at a guys house with the sole intention of hooking-up. Pete must have noticed the nerves, he offered me a glass of wine from the bottle he was already well into. Props to Pete as he wasted no time in taking the first step. Leaning in to kiss me and touch me.

We very quickly got down to the task at hand, Pete being quite eager to get to the point. I paused for a second to comment on what was playing on the TV in the back ground. I asked Pete if he thought it was a little weird what with the TV playing, he said ‘No, why?’ to which I exclaimed ‘C’mon! It’s Indiana Jones!’ This didn’t even slow Pete down. He got right back into things and rolled me over.

We should do this again. Again…

Pete and I sat on the sofa, basking in the afterglow of the satisfaction of the evenings activities. He offered me more to drink, I declined and pulled up my pants getting ready to go. After all, it was what it was. Two guys, met on Grindr, both after one thing, the same thing. Now that we had accomplished our task what more was there to stick around for? Before I left I said ‘We should do this again’, again. Also in the way that I actually meant it.

I rode home to spend the night alone in my bed, the way that I preferred. I had in the past experienced guys that wouldn’t leave and there was no way that Single Me was going to be one of those guys!