Sunday, January 21, 2007


Love and Lust. So undeniably interlinked yet so strangely different. There can be Lust without Love but not Love without Lust. That much is clear but attempt to define either and you enter a veritable minefield. Lust, maybe. Passion, physical, emotionless, quick gratification. Love? Let's not even go there, after all there is no encompassing definition, it is a constant process, evolving, changing, maturing. And after all this while I am still learning to love him.

It had more or less gotten to a stage when sex became a purely physical affair, physical release and quick gratification. An activity where a portion of the consciousness gets detatched from the hazy highs of the action and coldly, methodologically notes the various strengths and weakness of the other party's techniques much like the indifferent diner deciding which main course to pick. Lust is a hard master that promises much and delivers little, the aftermath of sex inevitably accompanied by a feeling of nothingness. Not quite emptiness because that is so cliche and denotes a gnawing sense of hopeless abandonment to an emotionless physical activity which was not the way I felt. But nothingness, that devoidness of any feelings except the knowledge that physical need had been met via contact and the faint aftertaste of boredom and resignation. Was all the trouble for that really worth it? - the common refrain. But still it persisted.

Sean wasn't my first. Obviously. I'd say I had two serious (relatively) relationships before that and a number of other 'boyfriends' that really didn't last more than two weeks. I fell in love easily then or so I thought. Falling in Lust was more like it. A purported relationship built on nothing more than physical attraction and chemistry in bed is doomed from the start. But like the naive, horny fool I was, I often conflated attraction with a genuine feeling for another person and thought that perhaps love could be cultivated from such attraction. A notion that I did not cherish for long. But even then, I would still enter into a 'relationship' simply on the basis of sexual attraction and the fact the other party suggested it.

Such tie-ups (because I won't even dignify it as a proper relationship) never lasted long though they did afford some good escapades and great sex in an assortment of places. The most audacious probably being the blowjob given by the beefcake in the BMT bunk when everyone else was sleeping though we did adjourn to the toilet after I firmly rebutted his attempts for anal in the bunk. Think sleeping guys about 1m away on either side. Looking back now, it seems suicidal some of the places I had sex, I'm sure the prospect of getting caught did cross my mind but was inevitably pushed aside in the hormonal demand for release.

One thing was always common though, I always ran. The need to end the tie-ups before I got terminally bored or sometimes not even at that stage yet, just some morose brooding and I would disappear or call with a short let's end it we aren't meant for each other, then hanging up. Without reason I went in and without reason I left, undoubtedly burning a number of first timers as I found out later but I didn't care then. Fidelity was never my strong point, the thought of plowing through a emotionless/superficial relationship sufficient to incite the urge to run. Which I always did.

Then there were the relationships.

W. was the first. A glib talker, not particularly attractive, charismatic. We met up after chatting on IrC which was the de riguer method of meeting new people then other than by clubbing or introduction via friends. Straight facedly asked me to tutor him in english (1 year my junior) and made advances at me under the table. At that old (now long gone) bubble tea place at Junction 8. It shocked me, the audacity of it, the brash cheeky approach though I found it wildly exciting. Blew me off in the carpark and proposed to get together while doing it. Which was hard to really think through when your dick is in someone's mouth. But I found him attractive then and agreed, thinking yes that love could still be cultivated from attraction. It obviously couldn't. I was idealistic (detested him guy watching when we were supposed to be out on a date--> which is really ironic. Sean and I tend to do it half the time when we're out.) and his cockiness was starting to unnerve me. So I ended it. We got in touch again some time much later after that and I wondered what I ever saw in him. Still as brash and cocky, he found it hard to stomach that I was as he claimed 'the first guy to have made him cry' and never ceased to attempt to guilt trip me. We lost contact sometime ago though I have no doubt he'll always be a player.

T. , the second was sweet. Though I firmly believed it was true 'love' then which probably was not surprising, given the paucity of the previous relationships, it is more accurate to say that it was more of a puppy-love cum romance kind of attraction. We met at Niche, friends were dancing, seat empty, he sat down, we talked and traded contacts. Cutish with the boy next door look, T. was earnest and thoughtful as W. was brash and suave. We talked loads but he was reluctant to get together, having to leave for studies. But I lived for the moment, always wanting now never mind the future. "But four months is all we've got." "Better than nothing at all" T.'s head on shoulder, a comforting weight. Four months, too short to be beset with the common ailments of a relationship, too long for casual dismissal. Parting was painful, I couldn't bear to send him off. Went home and cried.

Then after sometime, past the occasional ONS and fling, I chatted Sean up on IrC. By then my sojourns into irc was increasingly rare given the sheer volume of users just seeking threesomes/orgies or quickies (casual sex at some one's place). I guess what was all the more surprising was that it was a conversation we carried on for a few hours and one we eventually followed up upon. To this day neither of us can recall what we talked about except that it had nothing to do with sex or the usual risque top/bottom? age/sex/stats/race? subject matter. So we chatted for a month and one day I decided to meet for the hell of it even though I'd never seen him before. In the world of IRC, meeting up without having traded pics first is like Russian roulette, you never know what you're going to get. And trust me you can get some really shitty ones. So I prepared myself mentally for the worst and prepared a quick getaway excuse which I duly conveyed to him. "Will need to leave soon cause I'm picking a friend up at the airport."

The first time I saw him I was literally smitten. White shirt, faded jeans, cute boy next door look, the bright vivid eyes really caught my attention ( though i found out from him later when we were dating that they were contacts.. cheat! haha). There was a healthy dose of Lust involved no doubt about it but the first impression still left me wowed and really eager to want to know him even more. Till then it had just been a oh he sounds like a fun guy to hang out with, but he's going away soon to study so better not get so close anyway feeling, actually seeing him created the impetus for wanting to know him more and quickly at that.

Sean said he knew at that time I was interested in him from the way I 'devoured' him with my gaze. While probably highly exaggerated (he he) , I might have stared harder than I should have, not that I cared. And I distinctly remembered thinking I have to make him mine... or at the very least friends, with the option for more. Needless to say my backup plan went out of the window and when Sean reminded me of the supposed picking up of the friend at the airport, I (apparently) brushed it aside with a oh she can go take a cab herself, upon which he proudly told me after we were attached that was how he knew I was attracted to him. (Ya so smart can. :P)

His quirky sense of humor did manifest in that first meeting. Prior to meeting him, I had gone shopping for a present for a friend's birthday and so met him lugging a rather big paper bag from MET. Whereupon one of the first things he asked was ,"Wow is that present for me?" And I went "Er, no..." wondering to myself since when people from irc meeting up for the first time actually give presents and whether he seriously expected one. And because he looked so serious I couldn't tell. Thankfully, that silly boy redeemed himself by gallantly offering to carry it which accorded me a wonderful opportunity to admire his ass. Ha ha.

PS: Well unsurprisingly, this has gone on way longer than planned. The next installment shall be the last. I do want to talk about other things other than my journey as a homosexual such as when the next installment of Play Boy Blues will be licensed (ha ha kidding). Exciting as one's sexual escapades and gaffes may be, a constant litany of one's life and activities is sufficient to bore anyone, not to mention implant the notion of a narcissistic author in the minds of readers. I know I certainly would. So yeah, the next post will be the last on this subject matter.
Looks like you'll need to wait again dear. Laughs.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Actually, your sexual escapades are really interesting, I'm sitting here reading them when when I'm actually supposed to be working on something. I think it would be great if you wrote more about your life (or whatever) 'cause I'm sure a lot of people like reading them!