2:36 p.m. - January 01, 2004
It's said among the Chinese that several items are needed to ensure the best of luck in the ensuing New Year:
1) Paper money in your pocket, for prosperity. Coinage is not ideal since the great divide between those who Have and Have Not begins with coins (think beggars, bowls, and the charitable). [check]
2) Something green and alive in your immediate vicinity, for good health. [check]
3) Friends and family - preferably intergenerational - for strength of lineage (and fertility?). [ ]
4) A lover, because people are horny at midnight. Um, I don't think that's the reason but it serves my purposes. [?]
So last night plans were made with Ryan II after hemming and hawing and I went to his place to for movies, popcorn, and an aversion to Times Square goings-ons. Things did not go as planned and I ended up leaving before midnight.
First off, Ryan II has a weight set - a bench with barbells (is that the right word?) and a lot of free weights - in what would otherwise be the dining area of his apartment. While we were watching a movie he got up and began working out and I thought, uh... okay and listened to the clink of metal and focused more on the film. He pouted, folks, because I wasn't watching him work out and this strikes me as odd. Is this something that people who are interested in each other do normally? So I sit on the floor watching him working out and am thoroughly bored and he says Feel my biceps, feel my pecs and I laugh because this is quickly turning into a porn scenario. To cut to the chase: Ryan II was offended that I wasn't turned on watching him work out.
Quick aside: That submerged thought that I am neither gay enough to be gay [editor's note: Don't laugh] or straight enough to be straight runs amok.
What is it with gay men and the sexualizing of just about everything? Don't get me wrong - I like Ryan II's pecs a good deal and appreciate his effort, but I'm more about looking into somebody's eyes while conversing, rather than gazing at sculpted pecs.
He worked out and then we ate and get this - Ryan II got sick. The wish-I-had-air-freshener-in-the-bathroom sick. He's grumpy, becoming sicker, and pissed off when I'm not feeling particularly sexual, and before long Ryan II was out. By 10:00 p.m.
I went home after leaving a note. And this morning, Ryan II calls and is angry what kind of shit are you pulling? and I don't see where there's a problem. Again, wondering whether my perception of things is skewed and doesn't follow normal or expected behavior parameters. Was I in the wrong and if so, on what level? Should I have oohed and aahed while he was working out, enthralled by his bicep prowess? Should I have feigned sexual appetite when there was none, this after Ryan II told me he never wants me to do anything I'm not comfortable with? Should I have sat in his living room watching endless repetitions of Sydney 2004, New York 2004, Paris 2004, for as long as the networks figure they can capture an audience?
The more I'm involved with guys, the more I understand women and the less I like men.
Aargh. Deep down, that insecurity slays me.