Skinny Fat Skinny Fat

One time in bed, this dude said to me--you have a weird face. He immediately wanted to swallow his words as soon as he breathed them. But I was totally cold and didn't really care for some reason. He saw the coldness on my face and got comfortable as I asked him--hmm, why's that? He got this remarkably fascinated look on his face, then said--it's like skinny sometimes, but it can be fat too.

I don't think he thought he was complimenting me--but I thought it was the nicest thing anyone could ever say. I was like on cloud 9. So here's my little tribute to skinny-fat faces... he he ha!

skinny

skinnyfat

skinny

fat

My favorite dude of all is this guy....

Here's to multidemensionality...

Being Boy

I saw the Jessica Parker Gap commercial where she sings, "I love being a girl." As she prances through a pink old fashioned downtown, she extols the references to her teeth as pearls, hair as lambswool, and the other "whatnots" of being female. Her song is basically a different version of "Girls are made of sugar & spice, and everything nice--boys are made of snips & snails, and puppy dog tails."
Ha ha ha ha--well fuck that.

If I enjoy one challenge of being a boy, I relish in solving the problem of looking good within the paramters of not using make-up.



Bust out the abrasives, bedtime eye creams, toners, conditioners, and muds. Answer the riddle of shaving without bumps or ingrowns. Smoothen and chisel wherever necessary. Don't dress to impress--let flesh and blood take center stage. Make them wonder if you're wearing bronzer or eyeliner.

I love it.

Nature does it best--just show that shit off.

Archaic

I'm a masochist. I work, lift, and run like a masochist. I'm also old-fashioned. However, I was unaware as to how these two might relate.

Today, I was listening to all these different versions of "Ain't No Mtn Hi Enuf". As I did, my desire to suffer, battle, and fight for a beloved became so clear. I was surprised. I didn't know I had this thing in me. I still don't know exactly what it's about. Its crazy.

Like many of my contemporaries I have suscribed to the post-1950's playboi identity. An easy-street savvy, smart, privileged, and self-centered man. For me, this image has proven unsatisfactory--unfulfilling. I found no soul there. In my early and mid-college years I did that--I don't think I can say I "lived" it.

In the process, I discovered the enormous generational gap between me and my parents, a couple who marched to the beat of the medieval spirit. My father was used to, enjoyed, and even sought out the underdog position. I, on the other hand, having grown up with the benefits of his spoils, grew to master the overdog position. I knew how to exercise it and exploit it. While on occasion, I still get a kick out of it and I appreciate the knowledge of that experience. I know it cannot be the central part of any experience.

I tend to pursue impossible people romantically. I dig them out somehow. I get turned off when someone is easily taken by me. Both with men and women. One of the first girls I nabbed who I thought was out of my league I met in a college club.

I saw her first at a party. She looked incredible. Dancing in a skin-tight plain black dress--her body, eyes, skin, and moves caught and kept me for a while. I didn't talk to her yet. Later, we ended up competing for the same spot for this club. I got it, and she still got in but in a corollary role. I didn't know it until our first meeting, when she loudly announced from across the room that she had initially wanted my job.

I was stunned, confused, and idiotic in my reaction. I just smiled, confidently, and said that I'm sure I would end up asking her lots of quesitons about the position. She didn't seem satisfied. Eventually, she caught on to my nervousness around her. She jumped on the opportunity and started overtly flirting with me at meetings and just in general around campus. It annoyed those around us. Suddenly, her status for me went through the ground. While I enjoyed her attention, I lost the desire to pursue her. She was confused too about my reaction. Oh well.

I'm scared that I will misinterpret what it means to fight for someone. What is the battle? How need it be fought? What's appropriate? What is the role of the Other? Even many women today hate being put in the "damsel" in distress position. I can't expect any thing less from an intelligent male. I have to be able to integrate this desire into a functional relationship.

I'm starting to realize that I now like situations in which the Other plays hard to get. It's happened often for me, and I suppose its grown on me. Part of my fear with Asian Boy is that his playing hard to get has been so intense, that I have made myself to look rather desperate. Perhaps this position is all part of the scenario. Is that what the Other enjoys--to see this strong and daring figure brought to its knees by the sheer presence and being of another rather than its strength?

Zeus was at the gym yesterday. Haven't seen him in a while. If anyone can put me in the position of the Other, he could. He's gargantuan.

I ignored him because he was with someone else and also just because he hasn't been around much. I realized I was rude and when the moment came, I passed by and didn't avert my glance. He immediately turned to look right next to me--he would only look at me with his peripheral vision. His reaction was so precise and so intense, that it was obvious why it transpired. Plus, although he aimed his pupils adjacent to me, he aimed a bit too close. Without anything else remotely of interest around me, and since whatever he was looking at followed my same trajectory, his intention was overt.

He continued his conversation and I sensed his awareness of me in the room henceforth. I thought about striking up small talk. I actually had a training question for him. But I refrained thinking, how can this enormous hulk be so reactive to me, and yet not make at least a half-ass move? Does he expect me to come to him? Is he so spoiled by the admiration that he gets from others that he never expects to take a single step out on the limb? Clearly he is in the dominant position between the two of us.

I heard a little about his past. He is most definitely a people person. Apparently, when outside the gym he is very gregarious and astute. I can't think of a reason for his timidness around me. I can only think--stop staring and talk.

Eventually, he took off his jacket to expose a string tank. I looked, and he immediately looked right back at me with a big sneaky grin. His defined muscle bellies were amazing. As usual, he was cut to the bone. I definitely wondered as to how all that hard flesh would feel under me if were to straddle him, or how I might feel pinned under all that muscle. But his sudden change in confidence when he took off his jacket, sort of blew the fantasy for me.

Jeeez, I thought, even if he were to come onto me, I think I wouldn't even look all that interested because of his wierdness. Would that then sort of resemble Asian Boy's reactions to me? Did I look this retarded in front of him? I need better armor. I need to look invincible even in my begging. Though a knight kneels before the damsel, he never loses his composure.

Sunrise

A few mornings ago and today I had the luck of going running right as the sun was coming into view. The fog was melting, and the trees were cutting up the golden beams.

I love it. I love it.

I like going running sometimes before dawn. The darkness lends itself to reflection. Unlike the night, the pre-dawn is a darkness that you know will soon end.

Running with the sun in your face is different. Its the actual beginning. Yesterday for some reason I just decided to buy a bunch of Diana Ross music--oh, because I heard it while Christmas shopping.

Now I'm a fan. Basically all of her songs are about love and heart break. Corny, cliche and whatever, but she spoke my mind yesterday.

Learning to love is not easy. I think its clearly the main mission of human beings. The manifestations of this universal lesson are likely infiinite. Anything from a pro-bono professional, to a mother Teresa, to a naturalist who takes people on expeditions, etc, etc. Nevertheless, to love is the charge.

I didn't know how I felt this morning. I was upbeat and ready to go, but something in me was not the same. I wasn't conscious of what it was yet.

As I started up my first hill I turned on "Ease on Down the Road". It was crazy how it captured my feelings. I never really listened to this song before yesterday evening. I had not known the lyrics other than the main chorus.

But when I heard the rest of the song, I started to cry. I stopped myself because I was running and didn't want to be paralyzed there. I rarely cry. I guess what I was feeling was that learning to love is a tough road. Either way one heads on the road, no matter which road someone takes, its hard. Love is real. Perhaps it is the basis for all reality. The only way to opt out of it is to deny it and all of its side-effects. There is a place for delusion and denial, but I think it must be the epitome of loneliness. To not be alone is to necessarily accomodate another consciousness, which involves all of the trials that love ultimately brings with it.

Learning

I have to learn how to take pleasure and happiness out of being selfless.

Yesterday I had a very long conversation with a friend about this issue. I realized how even when I thought I was being selfless, I'd still be selfish. I've barely scratched the surface.

Self-Absorbed and Self-Centered

Someone wrote this on a message board regarding this perfect looking dude:

"Sorry to ruin this perfect thread of compliments -but he just doesn't do anyhting for me - he looks so self absorbed and centered on himself i don't think he looks pretty at all."

The comment made me realize that Asian Boy seems to be this way as well. The next realization was that I must be this way if I like him.

Why do I like self-centered & self-absorbed people?

You Ever Wonder

Yesterday I was all down because my fam was doing the whole Christmas scramble. We had two ditch last year causing an uproar. This time around I was hoping to help coordinate a workable plan. The wrench was thrown into the machine yesterday.

I went to one of those rag-bin-like discount stores. I love finding workout clothes there. Instead, I ended up talking to a friend for a while on the phone and doing most of my Christmas shopping--you never know what you'll find there when you aim to not pay attention or actually get something.

They were also playing all these oldie songs. Like all romantic. Its funny what survives, you know?

This one stuck out to me:

One fine day
You'll look at me
And you will know
Our love was meant to be
One fine day
You're gonna want me for your girl

The arms I long for
Will open wide
And you'll be proud
To have me by your side
One fine day
You're gonna want me for your girl

(Bridge:)
Though I know you're the kind of boy
Who only wants to run around
I'll keep waiting and someday, darling
You'll come to me
When you want to settle down, oh

One fine day
We'll meet once more
And then you'll want
The love you threw away before
One fine day
You're gonna want me for your girl

Is it false hope? Can someone's love transform the love of someone else? Is that what it means to grow "together"?

If all else fails....

... just be really fucken hott... he he... here's for the "on the money" vasconcelos prediction...

Jump

I listen to random house music tracks and mixes that I download off the internet. Often they have these funny random lyrics or phrases interspersed between the sets and beats.

One stood out to me this morning:

I am human, and I need true love.

The phrase is rather needy, perhaps annoying. But seemed so on point, for me at least.

Throwing in a Loop

We finished that workout as usual. The following afternoon, he was the same. Pretended not to see me and then lit up when I greeted him. He was effucious this time. We talked about his workload at school. He had a major presentation coming up that involved a grilling session. It could determine a great deal for him. Although I sort of doubted that he saw it that way.

I spotted him a couple times and we chit chatted. He asked me more about myself than usual. One of his friends came in, and they talked a good bit. I think he really likes this friend. The guy seems to be really nice. He’s like AB except not as guarded. He's also Asian, rather skinny, but very pretty. He’s one of the few other Asians I find attractive at school, though many are here.

His friend spotted him on a particular exercise I didn’t know could or should be spotted. It looked kind of funny—it was dumbbell preacher curls. His friend just stood there, and looked a little bedazzled. AB has a very young look to him, even though he’s so muscular. However, when he actually moves weight, you realize that all that soft skin is really very thin and he’s all muscle.

I wondered if they liked each other. I know that his friend has a very serious girlfriend, and they seem to like each other a great deal. I was more inclined to think that AB either trusted him more to spot him that way, or would feel less uncomfortable or distracted if someone with whom there was no sexual tension spotted him. I vacillate myself at times regarding who I want to spot me on certain exercises. I remember one time asking a guy who I thought might have been into me. I wasn’t into him, but I did need a spot. My slight suspicion was somewhat confirmed when he responded with a very noticeably overenthusiastic yet shy-stricken, “I’d be DELIGHTED to give you a spot.”

Later in my workout, while pacing around, I passed by him while he was straining on a final rep. I thought I saw him slightly “jump” as he usual when he sees me, the reason for which the jury still deliberates. Still, as I passed I said, “go get ‘em” in his native language. I’m glad he was done, because he burst into giggling.

I was very blaze that day for some reason. I couldn’t have cared less for anything. A new cloud has settled over me for the past few days now. Only until recently have I become aware of what it could be. As I noticed that AB was leaving, I walked towards the door. I did need to go to the bathroom and I also wanted to wish AB good luck on his presentation. Though he might not have known how important it could be, he was still nervous. He saw me coming, but pretended not to notice.

Just before I was going to talk, he turned and headed for his friend. I called out to him. He pretended not to hear me. I called again and he turned around with a big smile. I said with earnest, “Good luck.” He said thanks, and waved.

I could be getting all of this situation wrong, and I could be just a dumb fool for showing so much interest in someone who does not show no where near comparable curiosity or desire for me.

When I came back from the bathroom, he was gone.

I finished my workout and then headed for dinner. I ate the equivalent of two my usual meals. I was famished for some reason.

I later called up an old friend whose heart was once broken by someone of AB’s national origin. We talked a lot, and he seemed more hopeful than me about how AB was responding. Apparently, amongst these, hints are a really big deal.

A couple of points stood out during the conversation. The first was how forward AB had been about wanting to study with me towards the end of our dinner. He had in succession asked whether I was busy that weekend, whether I went to campus at all on weekends to study, and then commented that since high school, he could never study in his room. I wrote about this before. But it was this conversation that made it obvious.

The second point that arose was the oddness in how AB said “wherever” regarding that last dinner, in addition to his limiting our time with an appointment after the meal.

It seemed that perhaps AB thought that dinner would turn into something else. His limitations might have been simply playing the game. There were a couple of corollary points to this one. All of them suggesting that perhaps AB was expecting me to make a physical move by now. I hadn’t, and still made no indication that I would. The ride to the airport was clearly not convenient for that kind of encounter. On the contrary, it was meant to emphasize my interest in just being nice.

He might have been thrown for a loop. Two significantly older gay guys have now explicitly told me—because of the guy stories I tell them—that guys have sex first and then decide whether to get to know each other or not.

When I think about fagdom—its true. In fact after one of these conversations, I began to be struck by how many times guys had tried to make a physical move on me while I had totally missed the message. Some were obvious.

One was a very hot bartender. Who struck me as being not only hot but nice. His body was tight, but his pecs were unusually well shaped. I couldn’t get over them. It was his rib cage, I swore.

I wouldn’t have had the guts to straight up hit on him, so I asked what kind of pec exercises he did. He bullshitted although he seemed into it. I started to think that maybe he wasn’t bull shitting and that he really did do nothing special for them.

I noticed he liked talking to me, so I went out on a limb and asked if he wanted to workout sometime. He quickly went and wrote his number down for me. I thought he probably just wanted me to buy drinks from him. I was so cynical as I became more tipsy that I even asked him if the number he gave me was real.

He got offended, and asked if the number I gave him was real. I said—of course. He said, well then so was his. I thought I had blown it by that point. But then, later in the night, he came up to me. He whispered in my ear that he had a break in about fifteen minutes. “How about I meet you in the girl’s bathroom?” he suggested.

I was so stupid—I was confused because this was a gay club. He said, there actually is a girl’s bathroom. Look closely to your left as you head into the boy’s room.

Suddenly I realized that the bathroom would be empty. I was SO green at the time. I don’t know how I can be so utterly socially retarded.

I looked at my watch and then headed over when the time came. He came in soon after me. He smiled, and giggled as he pulled me into a stall and sat me down.

I was shocked and beside myself all at the same time. This guy was gorgeous and this was one of the first times I had ever been to a gay bar.

His body was beautiful and I started caressing him. I shyly and dumbly asked him to flex a little. His smooth skin and full muscles jumped into separations and striations. Fuck, I couldn’t help myself and started slowly tongue worshipping him.

He smiled and giggled some more. He straddled me, and seemed to be a little shocked that I wasn’t hard. He lightly handled my crotch. I told him I wasn’t used to this and that I was a little scared. He looked at me with a confused but sweet smile, and said, I know you’re young—but how old ARE you? I told him, and he laughed.

Why are you laughing I said. You’re SO young…. SO young, he said. I got a little offended by his haughty tone, and finally I asked, how old ARE YOU? He smiled, and said, how old do you think I am?

I don’t know, I said, 21 or 22?

He laughed hard at that point. “I’m 29,” he said confidently. I was like shit—this guy looked good.

I started licking his tight pecs again. I asked him to flex again, and the tiny striations jumped out. I gasped, and he giggled as he started to run his hands through my hair.

I was holding back a lot—I just didn’t know it at the time. I didn’t know what to do and didn’t know how to let loose and go with my hormones.

He brought his hands lower to my neck, and started cupping my jaw with his hands. I was still busy licking his satin meaty pecs.

Then he brought his face eye level with mine and grinned at me. I was confused, why was he stopping me from tonguing his chest? I still had that confused look on my face as he held me in his hands.

He just stared into me with a smile. I waited a couple seconds and then dove back into his chest, and then I felt a kiss on my head. That’s when I realized, he wanted to kiss me.

I was surprised. He laughed and repeated that I was so young. I had a really hard time kissing guys for a very long while. I couldn’t bring myself to it. During my first couple of hook ups, I had severely offended the dudes because I just couldn’t kiss them.

This guy was nice, laughed some more, and just said—you are SO young. I was so scared. He started at my jeans, when I sort of put my hand on top of his.

He said, what’s wrong?

I said, what are you doing? “Why do you think you’re here?” he said curiously.

I wanted to get to know you, I said sounding like a veritably retarded version of Forest Gump. My friends still don’t believe I said this. But it just came out, because I actually thought that this guy was not just hot, but nice. I wanted to explore those pecs, but I didn’t want to just do everything in the freakin bathroom stall. I guess I’m old fashioned—like archaic.

He laughed—a lot. He found it extremely amusing. He kissed me on the cheeks.

He got up, and I asked—still a little scared—we’re still working out right?

He turned around and looked at me, smiled, and said, Yes.

I had thrown him for a mini loop, but thrown myself for a major loop.

Another guy—who I actually dated for a brief time—was thrown for a major loop when I hesitated to have sex. At the time, again I had not realized just how many times he had set shit up for us to fuck. But I seemed to miss the point so many times. We would even just make out for these ridiculously long periods of time. Despite setting up the situation for sex several times, he never explicitly went for it until the last time that I saw him.

He flat out started to strip. He knew I was physically into him. I would just stare at him often. Still, I thought his mode of going about it was annoying. For this reason, we had eventually stopped seeing each other. Despite how much I liked him, I never got the gut feeling that he cared about me. I had the feeling that after the fuck, he would just toss me. I never told him this upfront because I knew his lack of care for me was genuine. It just wasn’t in him. That night, he got angry, and left having told me off, saying that I was a freak and needed to get over myself. I just thought he was jaded, and had given up on caring for people. I liked his tenacity, but not that results of it.

I just didn’t want physicality on those terms. I cared for him, and he wasn’t ever going to care for me. Physically, I wanted him and vice versa. It was either going to have to be total detachment on behalf of both parties, or caring for each other. I didn’t like the potential imbalance.

I guess I’m sort of scared about how I am dealing with Asian Boy. Maybe he expected me to make a move earlier on. I don’t know.

The Next Part

The next part to the plan was to not make him feel awkward for having thrown the favor out to him like as I did. It was somewhat of a bold step on my behalf, but I panicked as I didn't want to lose the momentum I had going with him prior to a one month break. A desperate move--no doubt about that. However, I don't find many people I can get into. More desperation.

I arrived the next day at the gym almost 45 minutes late purposely to avoid seeing him for a prolonged period of time. We arrived at nearly the exact same time. I saw him on the treadmill. He had his sweatshirt still on so he had just gotten on. As I passed him from behind, he stopped and started to take off his sweatshirt. Damn, he looked hott. His shoulders were so broad and somehow so shapely all at the same time. His calves were meaty and proportioned.

He kept running.

I changed and started to stretch. There were two places where I could've stretched. Near the entrance to the weight room or in the middle of it. The former made it so that he had to say hi to me or ignore me. The latter gave me the option although made me clearly visible. I was lazy and not in the mood to be overly nice. I stretched by the door.

He found a cop out--he walked in while on his phone. Somehow the conversation ended as soon as he passed me. A rather clean break in the call I thought. He solved the situation though.

He walked in and seemingly didn't have to face my way at all. I had a lot of stretching to do prior. I had my hardest work out of the week coming up, so I was fine.

I started my lunges. Damn--it was going to hurt today. I didn't know if I'd actually finish my workout. He was benching on the opposite side of the room.

We both knew we were there. I didn't want it to get weird in the slightest so at my first break after the warmups, I headed over. I only came within visual range and not audio. I smiled and waived, he had been tracking me and saw me right away. From a far distance, he looked up and right at me. He looked a little shocked and started to talk. I made it clear I couldn't hear him, and just went back to my lunges. He knows leg days is the worst and that I'm not talkative during the first few exercises.

I finished up my first few sets, and paced as I struggled to catch my breath. He needed a spot, I went over and got him. He was winded as well, and thanked me. I nodded and grunted, Good shit. Flushed from the set, he smiled in that glowing way.

I continued with more leg shit. I know his routine at this point. We've talked about it and its pretty clear what it is. I know when he needs a spot, and he knows that I know. Last time, he helped me out too, seemingly when he knew I needed it.

I had to piss though, and he asked someone else for a spot. Good call I thought. We moved on and we ended up working out near each other. His shoulders looked huge yet in no way out of sync with his lithe physique.

He motioned for a spot, I nodded and headed over. Winded after the set, he asked me, How often do you do legs?

I was sort of struck by the comment. I don't know why, I guess it seemed critical or judgmental or whatever.

He saw my face and said, Cuz I see you doing them all the time.

I do them every third day, I replied. But to be honest, I'm kind of surprised that I am getting thru with them today. I'm doing better than I expected, he smiled, and I did too. I love it when he does that. Just asks a random question that shows that he observes me and wants to know more. I love his bemused and yet amused expression as I give him a somewhat incomplete answer. I guess I play this stupid game more so than I think I do.

As he was sitting up on the long bench, I would've wanted to climb right on top of him right then and there, sat on his meaty thighs and wrapped my calves around his round and meaty ass, drapping my arms over his insane melon shoulders, and held our faces close together. If I could've kept that expression of muted wondering and awe on his face, and I could've reflected it right back to him.

The Plan

I finally came up with an idea--he didn't have a car and would soon be headed to Asia for the holidays. The winter break is long and the class load is heavy leading up to it. I had to engineer something that would increase our momentum, and let him know that I wanted to care about him. This last point is more mysterious to me. Oh well.

The following day, we both showed up at nearly the exact same time. He was on the bike. I changed and then headed over to him. I sat next to him and said hi.

He smiled, all cockiness in him was non-present. Perhaps it was because we were alone.

I asked how the studying was going. He said, its going. He said it stoically. So I grinned, and said, hanging in there? He got the jist, laughed lightly and said, yea.

I saw the book he was reading, and inquired if that was for his upcoming test. No he said, and then went through his schedule for me again.

I said, what are you working today? Back, he said, my easy day. I chuckled.

He asked what I was working. Shoulders, I said. I think I'm going to go heavy this time. I smiled, and so did he. We looked at each other. I shrugged, and said, it's definitely one body part you can't overdo. We smiled at each other again. I don't know if he was thinking what I was thinking, but despite the fact that we're both very built, his shoulders are ungodly in size, and godly in shape.

I finished tying my laces and said, I'll see you inside. He smiled and nodded at me.

Inside, I needed a spot. The first time I've ever asked for one that was sort of expected. He was very happy to give it.

He complimented me a lot on my set--Wow he said, that was a lot of reps. I smiled, got shy, said thanks--thanks a lot, and then kept working. Later, he spotted me again. He had timed it this time. Finally, I came around and started conversation about his upcoming trip. When are you leaving on that day? I queried.

7am he said. He saw my expression. yea, pretty early he said. I smiled like the devil, and said, Relatively I suppose. He thought, then smiled back, and said, Why? At what time do you wake up?

5, I said. His eyebrows went up. He looked confused, and then said with some pessimism, Why??? I pretended to wonder for a second and said, I like to start my day before anything gets crowded. He asked me my sleeping schedule. He complimented me. I went back and did more sets. I came back and asked more about his upcoming trip. Then went on again with my workout.

Suddenly, he came up to me, and said, I'll see you later. Fuck, he can't get away yet I thought. Hey, tell me if my form is right on this one, yea? I stalled.

Sure--he looked at me intently, made a suggestion. I said, shit, that makes it harder. I'll have to get a lighter weight. We walked together to the weights and door.

I raised an eyebrow, cocked my head his way, and said, wait, if you fly at 7, that means you have to be at the airport at like---5...

He hadn't apparently thought about this--and said, I guess--probably 6 really.

Finally, I broke into a sinister grin and said, how are you getting there?

He was shocked. His jaw dropped and he looked away and then down at his feet. I don't know he stammered. A taxi I guess, he said.

I smiled, and looked at him. Can I give you a ride?

We are conditioned to be so overly independent now a days. Self-sufficiency is the great Emersonian and Thoreuvian ideal that still pervades not just American thought, but most definitely Asian American thought. I had purposedly phrased the question as a request on my behalf.

He couldn't answer because of the shock. I knew it would be a bit of a shock. Asians hate accepting a favor.

Finally, I repeated with confidence, Can I?

He stammered again, could you?

YEA, I said with my enthusiasm finally breaking through the cracks.

I walked to the weights. He walked towards the door, having gotten his bag. Then I saw him get that slighlty aggressive and suspicious look that my Asians have often worn. He smiled lightly while doing this and he said--Wait, don't you have stuff to do at that time?

I said, notice how I've been less stressed lately? He smiled, and looked down. I've figured out my job better lately. Its not a problem. I'll see you at your dorm that morning.

He picked up his stuff and left--likely flattered, and even more confused.

I felt good and wierd at the same time. I had upped the antie. I had wanted to make sure he thought about me before leaving. I had wanted him to know I could be giving without necessarily expecting physical gratification--a suspicion I had later harbored when he mentioned he needed to be somwhere after dinner the other night, which incidently ended up being a study group session.

Post Dinner

The following day I saw him at the gym, but only briefly. I had gotten there 45 minutes past our usual time.

He jumped as I entered the room, and again pretended not to see me. What a wierdo. I went over and said, hi.

He smiled big and warmly, and we chatted for a second.

I went on with my workout, and he eventually left. No see you later or anything. I was bummed.

I couldn't have felt more stupid. Why am I into him this much?

I needed a plan, and I was going to devise it.

The final straight away of the semester was going to soon start for him, and another dinner seemed redundant.

I also knew from him telling me his schedule that he had a heavy load coming up. I didn't want to be a distraction, despite my selfish desires.

Dinner Again 3

I finished up my workout, got dressed, and walked back to my car.

I would call 10 minutes prior to 7, and then first ask whether he wanted to dine on or off campus, and that I would drop him off wherever he needed to be after mealing.

I called, hey.
Where are you? he asked.
About to get in my car. Do you want to do off or on campus. I can drive to wherever you need to be afterwards.

I don't have to be back until 8 or 8:30, he said. If you're about to get into your car, then off works.

Alright.
He gave me the directions to the pick up spot.

He was dressed in all sweats and he had his backpack with him. So much for thinking that he was going to primp or preen for this outing.

I turned in front of him, and opened the door.

A totally different person got into my car. Gone was the cockiness, the attitude, and the presumptiousness. I was shocked, pleasantly. He commented on the clock in my car, and why it was so off.

I mentioned a time when I was driving across time zones a lot. He asked if I had ever driven x country. I said yea. I described the trip briefly.

He said he wanted to do so at some point.

We chatted--about shit like that and his return to Asia for the holidays.

I picked not only a distinctive restaurant, but a distinctive, casual, and secluded location.

Asian boy had complained about lots of things about the area surrounding the school. I had come to suspect that he didn't get out often and that he didn't have a car. The two don't necessarily go together. It was odd that these seemed to be both true for him. He must either be somewhat hermit-ish, sheltered, or both. Even during my loner periods in life, I have always actively gone out and checked out new venues. Always--I actually like being alone while out.

I also came to suspect that unlike a lot of Asians with whom I have gone to school, he wasn't particularly wealthy. I still didn't know this fact for sure. But I didn't know exactly what to make of it.

We got down, and entered the restaurant. There was only one person our age there, and the only other few folks were older.

I looked at the menu, and at the ingredients. They used these large samurai like swords to chop and mix the salads. It was cool.

As I stared at the optional ingredients, I could feel his eyes on me. I discretely looked at him without moving my head. I saw him--staring at me, then taking in the location, and then he stared at me again, and smiled.

He knew I had given this thing thought, and I felt that he was flattered.

I ordered a normal dish. He however piled on every type of meat in the house. From steak to seafood and tofu. He asked if he could. I joked--go all out man.

It's insane how much he eats. He's so buff yet lean at the same time. Even with large sweats on, his unique shape was clear. I stared at his pants in particular. They hung so nicely on him.

He caught me. I smiled, and said, I like your pants. He chuckled, and looked away.

After a pause, I asked, are there any good authentic Asian food places around here?

Ehhh, he said. There are, but they aren't so good. Suddenly, he looked down, and I saw him think through several multiple turns. He then snapped, looked back up at me with a smile, and said, still, we should go to some of them sometime.

I turned away from him, embarassed and super flattered. I didn't know what to say--except for-- I'd like that.

If I doubted his orientation, or if I doubted his being out to himself in the past. These doubts were now gone. Unlike previous ambiguous friendships I have entertained with school mates, this young one was at least for himself sure of who he was and whawt he wanted. The social question remains.

I must have blushed--damn, a third dinner.

We got drinks, and paid. The lady serving us was Asian, but not of the same kind as he. I knew a bit of her language, so I conversed with her. I was being polite in doing so. Not to impress AB, although I saw his expression, and he was.

He asked me which languages I spoke. I told him. I asked him the same.

No one was in the restaurant. We had the place to ourselves. I dumbly asked, shall we eat here? Yea, he said.

There were a variety of size tables. Four, six, and two seaters. He picked the right type next to a window.

I love eating with someone I'm into, in a secluded and lonely restaurant. Some of my best memories are doing just that.

I looked at him as he sat down. He was beautiful. I loved his skin, his cheeks, his dark and almond-like eyes. His overly straight hair. His skin looked darker than before, but it still had this awesome clarity to it. His visage had depth to it.

He looked a little nervous. We started eating.

He asked about my trip to his birthplace for the holidays. It was an ironic twist that I had mentioned earlier. I said how one of my siblings would be there for the holidays, still my going there was uncertain.

He asked if my brother lived there. No, I said. He'll be lodging there and I suggested he and I upgrade his room and split the cost. But he's moody, and he may not want me there.

He asked where my brother went to school. I told him. He was taken aback.

Why are you surprised, I asked.

I know a lot of people at that school, he said slowly.

Oh, I thought--another freakin similarity. My world can be sooo small, its scary.

He mentioned how his friends were working so hard that they lost a ton of weight they didn't even have. I chuckled, and then asked what are they on?

He thought I was joking, but then he saw that I expected an answer. I saw his expression--oh shit, his friends and relatives are not pharmaceutically inclined. Ooops.

We talked about that campus. He asked how my brother liked it. I got into a description of him and his educational past in order to explain his perception of his current school.

I have a type-A family. I usually forget it until I'm talking with someone else. Most everyone is in some way ridiculously talented--if not so in multiple ways. Despite rambling and unconsciously bragging at several points, I still kept some of the more dramatic points of my brother's history to myself. He's my favorite out of all of them, and I love him a lot.

I caught myself--eventually, and stopped abruptly. I didn't know what to say, except the obvious. Where does your brother go to school?

It wasn't a top school--although it had some top graduate programs. The disparity was palpable as there was a beat of silence in the shift of the conversation.

Fuck, I thought--I screwed up. What does he major in, I asked. He gave me a generic answer. Shit, what do I ask now?

I was scared that if I probed deeper, something might go worst.

I then said, he must be jealous of you--fuck that came out wrong to. He gave me a surprised look.

Then I finsihed my sentence with--because of the weather.

Our school wasn't great on weather, but it was compared to his brother's school. His bro's school might as well have been in the artic circle.

Then he said with emphasis--ONLY the weather. I guess he wanted to make sure that there was no ambiguity regarding the issue of academic rank. Between him and his brother, it was not an issue. So, no sibling rivalry there. None necessarily expected.

He said he loved his brother's school because of the university's social life's compatability with the landscape. I was like--cool. He made a really poignant remark and I broke into serious laughter.

He had made a good point.

I wanted to make this point, did so half-ass, but probably shouldn't have. I don't hang out in generic places when I do go out. I have a knack for finding exclusive and interesting grounds. I guess I have the scent for them. So I briefly hinted that there are many places in our area that were unique, but that they required some investigation, a noteable downside.

I didn't go any further, since by now, I was certain he didn't go out much.

I asked how long he had lived in the city of his birth. He got defensive, and quickly replied two years, and then switched the topic to an internship he had recently done there. It was a cool internship that was presitigious, selective, and yet related to public service. I was impressed.

We then talked about more cities and our preferences for them.

He bashed my hometown a bit. I thought it odd. Every town has a rough part. He only referred to that area. I didn't feel like going into the exact part of where I grew up.

Instead, I shifted the conversation to real estate, and how the market was changing and redefining what was considered to be upscale. I over did it--AGAIN.

I stopped eventually.

He asked me where I wanted to settle down ultimately. I was confused by the question. I don't think in that mode anymore. I think first, what do I want to do, and where will that take me. As long as what I am doing impassions me, the rest is just details.

I didn't say that though. I gave a half-hearted response, of I don't really know yet.

We talked about Asia for a bit, and how he eventually wants to go back there.

Cool, I thought.

Eventually, the conversation slowed down. I had been nervous earlier that we would size each other up. We had done so, but we had consciously both restrained ourselves. The attempt was only half way successful.

I again, put down my utensils, and said, This was good. He thanked me for the meal. I said with a tempered smile while looking away, my pleasure.

As we headed back, I said that I had heard of his father. He said, really?
I had asked my friend about him. I said what the perception of his father was back in his home. He was flattered although fleetingly so.

Then I asked about the Asian calendar. He perked up at that question and went into an explanation of it.

There was silence again. Then he asked me if I ever still went to campus to work, perhaps on weekends.

I was stunned--I had been doing this more lately, but only to run into him. I had not succeeded, and I wondered if he had seen me, and thought that I was trying to stalk him.

I panicked. Yea, I said. I get tired of my office and go to some of the more inviting libraries. I mentioned a couple that had trade publications that would be useful for my job.

He went to say how he had trouble studying in his dorm. How it wasn't a problem in high school, but that now it was.

I said the same thing about me and my apartment.

I didn't get his hint at the time. I'm retarded.

But before I dropped him off, I said, if you ever want to work together, let me know, or if you ever want to take a break from the student bubble.

He looked rushed as I said this, and he smiled, although not to genuinely. I want to say he was nervous. As he got out, he said, Thanks, I'll probably see you at the gym.

It ended oddly. I didn't know what to do. I sent him a follow up e-mail with a funny quote. He liked it and responded.

Give it another chance

Supafly, Inc.'s
"Moving Too Fast"

Give it a chance
We can love again

In my crazy world
I gave you everything you wanted babe
You said you loved me
I Said I loved you too
Even in the craziest times
When we fault we made love
I held you closely
You opened up your heart to me

Time after time we dealt with it
This time I know were see it through
You’ll always be the one for me
Baby girl I’m feeling you
Time after time we dealt with it
This time I know were see it through
You’ll always be the one for me
Baby girl I’m feeling you


Oo oo were moving to fast
Trying to get through
Like walking on broken glass
Just shoo and move
is all the things of the past
Give it a chance
We can love again

We can work it out
We can work it out
Give it a chance
We can love again (love again)
Give it a chance
We can love again (love again)

Don’t be hasty girl
Cos when I’m gone you miss me
Don’t try to push me
Cos you are my babyboo
Tell me what I’ve done
To make you feel un easy
Cos I’m falling for you
I raise my hand I’m guilty

Time after time we dealt with it
This time I know were see it through
You’ll always be the one for me
Baby girl I’m feeling you
Time after time we dealt with it
This time I know were see it through
You’ll always be the one for me
Baby girl I’m feeling you


Oo oo were moving to fast
Trying to get through
Like walking on broken glass
Just shoo and move
Is all the things of the past
Give it a chance
We can love again

We can work it out
We can work it out
Give it a chance
We can love again (love again)
Give it a chance
We can love again (love again)

Give it a chance so we could work it baby we could work it out
Give it a chance so we could work it baby we could work it out
Give it a chance so we could work it baby we could work it out
Give it a chance so we could work it baby we could work it out


No matter what you say
Or what you do
The time has come
For us to see this through
No matter what you say
Or what you do
The time has come
For us to see this through

Oo oo were moving to fast
Trying to get through
Like walking on broken glass
Just shoo and move
is all the things of the past
Give it a chance
We can love again

We can work it out

Oo oo were moving to fast
Trying to get through
Like walking on broken glass
Just shoo and move
is all the things of the past
Give it a chance
We can love again

We can work it out
We can work it out

Give it a chance
We can love again (love again)
Give it a chance
We can love again (love again)
Give it a chance
We can love again (love again)
Give it a chance
We can love again (love again)
Give it a chance
We can love again (love again)
Give it a chance
We can love again (love again)
Give it a chance
We can love again (love again)
Give it a chance
We can love again (love again)
Give it a chance
We can love again (love again)
Give it a chance
We can love again (love again)

Let Me Try on Your World

Have you ever wanted to try on someone else's world?

This question explains how I view relationships that I know will not be long term or permanent. Most relationships do not aproximate permanence even if they are long term. So in many ways, all relationships fall into the transitory category. Still, some relationships are foreseeably short-lived.

I look through AB's album on his online profile and I see a world so similar and yet so different from my own. Its reminds me of the one guy thus far with whom I have fallen in love.

We spent sometime abroad together and I remember at one point deliberately turning off me and just vicariously experiencing his world. I could have only done so without denying myself with him.

It was awesome. I loved experiencing him in that way. He asked what I was doing because he noticed the change. I told him. He chuckled both nervously and with curiosity.

I don't do it because I dislike my world--I think I do it to appreciate mine fully and to also experience a different one that is worth knowing.

I love people who can "foil" me. They are me in a different way. Like a man and a woman--different and yet alike--their distinctions only serve to bring into relief their similarities and vice versa.

Dinner Again 2

The dinner was all I could think about between the actual asking and the forthcoming event. It was pretty much a real date. He seemed happy and excited by it--me too.

Something was bothering me and I didn't figure it out until the hour prior to my workout that afternoon.

Finally it dawned on me. I know all the basics about him--how do I actually get to know him, as a person, rather than just his context?



I scrambled and did all these internet searches on good first date questions to ask. Basically all of them were retarded, ranging from what's your favorite color to movie.

One article focused on how to get a second date. The article suggested making one self scarce, fiercely discriminating regarding one's company, and basically being hard to get to know. These factors would essentially pose the tease that would lead to the second outing.

A friend advised that I HAD to get his number at this outing. For what? I wondered. Its not as if we might do anything other than eat together and workout. But I figured she was right. I couldn't come up with a fucken smooth excuse to beg for the digits. Fuck, I guess I'd have to improvise. I didn't eat much prior. I wanted my stomach to be nonexistent and my workout t to fit perfectly. It did. At least one detail had been covered. I also went in about 25 minutes later in order to make the later meal seem less distant from the workout. I figured we'd just go early.

I went in, and he was there. From a distance we nodded to each other. We met at one of the mats. I was to tie my laces, and he was doing crunches. No one said a word as we got down next to each other.

I guess we were too manly to speak. So finally, I just blurted out--Chest day? He paused, looked at me, and said, Yea, you?

Back, I said.

I got up and went through my stretches. He went back to the weights.

I noticed that he was more than half way through his workout. After a warm set, I went over and said, You're well into your workout...

He was really cocky as he stretched one arm, looked at me and smiled self-assuredly. He said, I came in early. I have somewhere to be at after dinner. I'm going to shower before, and then... he paused... I'll meet you wherever.

I was confused. I know I'm stupid and slow. Okay, I said.

WTF I thought. He has something scheduled after??? I felt trivialized. I couldn't believe it--but the actual internet article came back to mind. Then I put it together with what Asian Man had said--and finally, I thought--I think he's really looking forward to this meal.

We went through our workouts and no one spoke.

Finally, he came over and just stood next to me as I finsihed a set. I got down from the machine, widened my eyes, and said, so how do you want to go about this?

He smirked, and said, let me give you my number and then you can call me when you're done.

Fucken ay. This rocks.

I took out my phone, and handed it to him. He dialed. I hit send. I showed him the number going through and told him, you now have my number too.

I'll see you in a bit. I said as non-chalantly as I could. He smirked, as he turned to leave.

I went and did a really strenuous set afterwards. The weird guy who kicked me while I was down and now fucken worked at my company was working out right next to me. He knew about my sexual orientation before I came out. He's also known about AB as he has been nearby whenever I try to chat it up with him. He smirks at me whenever I seem to fall on my face. I think I'll call him Judas.

I didn't care and just went on with my workout. As I finished, I noticed someone standing behind me. I turned around and it was AB. I was surprised, and just widened my eyes again in question.

He held up his cell phone, and said, did you call me? I don't have any missed calls.

The call had not gone through. I could feel Judas' eyes burning through the back of my neck.

I whipped out my phone and we both got all close to each other as I redialed the number. I was getting hard. Finally, the number went through, he smiled turned and left.

I didn't bother to look at Judas. I just went on with my workout.

I wonder what Asian Boy had up his sleave. What was this other engagement after dinner? How short would he cut it? He was cute in giving me his number and then ensuring that had mine.

Part two of my plan was to go to a secluded place. I had pre-scoped it out. It was a gourmet salad place, perfect for his taste.

Hold On

"Hold On" by Good Charolette

This world
This world is cold
But you don't
You don't have to go
You're feeling sad, you're feeling lonely, and no one seems to care
Your mother's gone and your father hits you
This pain you cannot bear

But we all bleed the same way as you do
And we all have the same things to go through

Hold on if you feel like letting go
Hold on it gets better than you know

Your days
You say they're way too long
And your nights
You can't sleep at all
Hold on
And you're not sure what you're waiting for, but you don't want to know more
And you're not sure what you're looking for, but you don't want to know more

But we all bleed the same way as you do
And we all have the same things to go through

Hold on if you feel like letting go
Hold on it gets better than you know
Don't stop looking, you're one step closer
Don't stop searching, it's not over
Hold on

What are you looking for?
What are you waiting for?
Do you know what you're doing to me?
Go ahead...What are you waiting for?

Hold on if you feel like letting go
Hold on it gets better than you know
Don't stop looking, you're one step closer
Don't stop searching, it's not over
Hold on if you feel like letting go
Hold on it gets better than you know
Hold on

Attitude

Whether its in a guy or a girl, I love attitude. To some degree (and perhaps to its full degree) I require attitude in anyone I like.

Not the stupid flamboyant diva front that many put on, but instead the understated, muted, non-attention seeking prickliness of self-assuredness.

One girl I totally fell for in college was this super gorgeous, short, and talented brunette.

I noticed her first by the way she walked. It was as if she walked on or parted the waters with her stride. It was relaxed yet absolutely purposeful. It wasn't dramatic. Her gait was subtle yet distinctive.

The next noticeable quality was her dress--perfect, flawless, and detailed and per the occasion.

She wasn't super gorgeous in the most conventional sense. She looked part native american, part spanish with light skin, dark eyes/hair, and pronounced cheeks and lips.

She had the most amazing hour glass figure--with a truly impossibly small waist and large round hips. She didn't have amazing breasts, but her neck and shoulders were incredible.

I wrote a poem about her at one point. It focused on two main points. The first was a simile between her and a long stem rose. Both were largely thorny and prickily--however, they both ended in absolute beauty. The second was that her attitude seemed undeniably authentic. In fact everything--from her facade, clothes, jewels etc, to the expressions that yielded her spontaneous reactions--had those broken-in, paradoxical, marks of being bourne out of pain, not just upbrining.

As a result, I wrote that surrounded by immitation, she was indeed the real thing. She didn't pretend to be troubled. She was. She didn't dress to be beautiful. She just was.

Attitudes carries a price. So I must earn my wages and pay for it.

Dinner Again Prereflections

So I'm going to write about the whole dinner thing... but prior to that... I am sitting here, thinking about him, having seen him briefly today at the gym.

He pretended not to see me again as I entered the room. I love it because I can see him jump right before he goes into pretend mode.

At my job this week, I have realized that even not so smart people can be really slimy. I just got off the phone with my dad. He was giving me all this advice on office politics. I couldn't stomach to much of it. I'm weak.

After talking to dad, I sort of appreciated AB even more. He does his version of "politics"--but then, I can see through it every now and then. I can see this troubled innocence in him. Yea, I'm sure it's all a part of my own idealizations--but, even thinking about the dinner, he did several critical things to make it go a certain direction. I admire his manouvering. He's really really young. My second year in college, my head was just begging to spin. My sexuality was tearing me up.

My best female Asian friend acknowledged that AB is going light years beyond what's acceptable for their culture. True--gay Asians are many, however, those from his particular origin are more scarce.

In short, had some guy asked me out at the gym--even if I had liked him, I don't think I would've taken up the invitation. Sounds retarded but then again, I was during sophomore year. In his own wierd way, AB is going out on a limb.

Dinner Again

Asian boy and I had dinner again this week.

We didn't talk much for a while at the gym. I still got the feeling and the hints that he tracked me as I went through my workout but still, I got nothing but distance from him.

I thought--its back to square 1, perhaps 1.1. Small steps I thought--which can easily be taken back.

One late night, I was online and ended up chatting with Asian Man, the guy who I went with on one date. He had blown me off before but now we were chatting. I brought up Asian male culture, and slowly ended up talking about AB. He gave me his input. I was floored. He seemed to be right on target. I was incredibly greatful for this windfall. My discouragement was still there, but I had to keep going.

Finally, I thought I'd work it up again one late afternoon. Asian Boy came in later than usual and apparently did a faster than usual workout. He looked a bit rushed.

I said hi to him at the beginning of the workout but nothing else afterwards. I decided to do one of his exercises. Not only because its really effective, but to let him know that I'm thinking about him.

He left abruptly. I trailed after him. I lightly punched him on the shoulder from behind and said that his exercise worked really well. Doesn't it??? he replied.

Yea, it actually balances out my workouts better than I expected, I said and then briefly outlined how it allowed me to refocus my other exercises on other body parts without overworking them. I asked him how his week was going. He told me.

We talked like this right up until we were about to exit the building. He had his coat and his bag. I didn't have anything. Then I said, are you going to go eat? He said, actually I'm headed to a meeting right now. Oh, I said.

Where are you headed, he asked. I replied, I'm going back.

To workout!? he said surprised. No, I said, just to get my stuff.

He looked at me confused and a bit shocked. I smiled kind of big, and said, I just wanted to see how you were. I cocked my head and raised an eyebrow slightly. I smiled a bit longer and then said, good luck with everything, turned and went back.

I thought I over did it. I thought it was stupid and desperate-looking. No doubt it was. But one thing I've been after in this interaction is to genuinely be more concerned with the other person, rather than me. I wanted him to know--I like you. I want to care about you. If the chances of me getting nothing are high, I want to still give something to you. I want you to feel like someone can have a giving will towards you, despite your unwillingness or inability to give anything back.

I don't know exactly from where these feelings come. Somewhere along the road, I got so tired of humanity. I got so cynical, pained, angry, selfish, and all that comes with seeing myself and a few others as dual natured human beings. I felt that I had seen evil, and disliked it.

I can't say I'm just willing to take the risk of getting hurt. I have to expect it--and then brace myself for the pain. I have to trust that what is on the other side of that experience, will be something greater for myself, and perhaps something greater for me and the other person together.

This latter point would seem to invalidate my argument and indicate that I am indeed selfish. But I suppose that the "better otherside" cannot come unless the selflessness that leads up to it, is genuine. The resignation that both death or life could be on the other side of that pain has must be real in order for life to have a chance afterwards. I don't know--this all sounds crazy :p

I was not happy afterwards. I felt down and back to square one. But something had changed, and whatever it was--I preferred it that way.

The following day, I proposed myself to distancing myself from him more so than usual. I had now asked him out twice. No use in smothering the kid or beating a dead horse.

I said hi politely and went on with my workout. He did the same. Finally, I finished my workout and decided to talk to him, even if I didn't ask him out. I looked for him, and went and started conversation. He was more open than usual and we talked. About his classes, the upcoming holidays, travel plans, and oddly enough how it is that we chose our school.

He was dual in his conversation. He tested me on my knowledge of other universities--stuff that was rather basic, but meant to probe earlier comments I had made. My father had not wanted to me to go to a private university. He wanted to get somewhat of a sense behind that reasoning.

Secondly, he now knows (from my online profile) that a high proportion of my friends attend very name schools. He tested that point as well.

I followed him through his routine, lightly going through the same motions on adjacent machines. He tried to stop and talk, but I insisted that I not interrupt his workout. So we talked and stopped as per his sets. He laughed at one point without saying anything.

Previously I had gotten the feeling that he had googled me or done some equivalent. This time, my suspicions were confirmed. I googled myself just to fucken see what would come up. Interestingly enough some stuff does come up that may seem misleading--though nothing critical. Either way, he totally gave away his googling when he directly asked about the second google hit that comes up under my name. It was weird, because he didn't even try to beat around the bush. He just asked if I had ever done it. I was like... whoa. Okay, random question.

Asking--how'd you know or where'd you read about me would've been way to awkward. I just straight forwardly answered his question as forwardly as he had asked. He could probably tell I was taken aback. I was definitely startled. Here was the third time that I definitely felt as if he had done some more than cursory research on me. While I had done the same, I wouldn't bring it up or ever implicate my discoveries in conversation. He didn't even necessarily seem to be trying to hide the implication.

We went to sip from the fountain when another friend of mine stood next to us. My other friend and I prefer to converse in different languages--its just a sort of joke we have going between us.

I started talking to him, and Asian boy jetted off. I followed him with my eyes, and I was actually glad my other friend came, because Asian Boy had to do an exercise through which I would not have been able to talk with him.

Finally, I ended my conversation and headed over to AB. He strained to get the last few reps out, and I leaned into his machine and said, so when can I buy you back dinner?

He lightly smiled and flushed a bit as he fought his smile back. He looked away momentarily, looked annoyed as he said, I'm supposed to do something with my friends tonight.

Having learned my lesson about waiting for his next response, I just slightly widened my eyes and looked at him with openness. He then smiled and swelled with cockiness as he said, next week perhaps. I gave him this ridiculous look, as if, you must be kidding me. He understood it right away, looked down a bit, and said, tomorrow's good actually.

Then I said, cool, what time?

He smiled with some intensity, looked away and thought for a split second, and then said, how about 7?

I was thrown off a bit, because that was substantially later than our regular workout time, but I didn't question it. I was just happy that he seemed happy that I asked him out again.

I went got my stuff, and left walking on cloud 9. I was going to be thinking about this upcoming meal a good bit.

Ambiguity Remix

Yesterday I was at the gym at the regular time, and Asian boy didn't show up.

No worries, except for the fact that I think about him too much. Its retarded because there's nothing going on.

I can chalk it up perhaps to the fact that few people have caught my eye or that I have not caught the eye of others. But I am reminded often that such is not the case.

Something about him compels my interest. I hate it.

He's young. Confused not just about his fucken major but in all likelihood about the major issues in life as well--like his sexuality.

I want to learn how to pursue without being neurotic. I have witnessed a couple other friends become like me in a pursuit and I just think--something must be wrong with them.

I say to myself that I have nothing to lose. This assumption is true as long as I stay detached. Thankfully, there is little to which to become attached at this point, except for my own ideations.

Balancing Act

I have several friends who gave up love in the name of a career. One--ibanker with an amazing fiancee who was also an ibanker. She quit her job. He didn't. They tried to make it work. She ran off with a romantic photographer. He lost the love of his life. She was the envy of all his friends becasue she had amazing personality, brains, and looks. Two--soon to be lawyer from a top 5 school. His boyfriend was not a college grad and he was at a top undergrad school. Despite very different backgrounds, they beat the odds for a while and got engaged. Conflict arose when it was time to pick which law school smart boy would attend. Consensus never came about and the relationship ended after the first year. He still regrets and now says that he will not prioritize career over relationships. He has however secured that first job offer at a phenomenal firm. He still wakes up in the middle of night, dreaming of his ex. A less clear cut case is of a writer, who met her boyfriend abroad. He was there for a semester. She for the year. He asked her to stay. She did not concede. Her time abroad might be crucial to her future as a writer. Their relationship suffered afterwards. Post graduation, he began ibanking. He basically disappeared and put the relationship in purgatory. She moved to follow him. They don't know what will happen next. They want each other, but they are scared about whether they are willing to make the commitments necessary to make each other the priority.

Two other couples I know--have set dates for the big event. Both were college sweet hearts and each of the females in the pairs went off to top 3 professional schools. Both boys put their plans on hold and followed their women to their respective destinations. One guy joined his spouse at the same university which luckily also had a top 3 school for his field. The other is still figuring his lifecourse out, but he has made it abundantly clear that his fiancee is his number one priority.

I mention the ranks and fields of some of these individuals because often--prestige is a major temptation. What the fuck do you do when you get the opportunity of a lifetime? Hurray if its congruent with everything else, but what if its not? Someone I once knew told me that the most successful people he knew were those who were able to balance everything.

I was chatting with one of the guys who lost his love. He explained how in the past 3 months of anguish, he has reprioritized his life. Now its a question of whether he will be able to recognize love the next time it may happen.

I said that I had made a similar decision long ago. He asked, with whom? He knows I've never had a relationship that would pose such a fork in the road.

But I explained that before, I was not out, would never consider coming out, had the most shallow idea of love, and could not emotionally regulate anything relationally oriented. Plus, I have been ugly--where it matters most.

I was not just confused, I was clueless. Getting a clue would take more than just a bump and a bruise. A lot more. My first semester in college, I got near perfect grades. I was taking advanced upper level courses. When I proved to myself that I could pull it off, I faced the fact that doing so didn't make me happy. I was so unhappy--and my achievement didn't change my inner status.

Perhaps its the prior unhappiness that is the real issue--although I faced those too when I decided to get started on figuring shit out.

Before I could find love, I needed to become a person I could love. Cliche #1: much evil in the world is an externality from the actions of individuals who are unhappy with themselves. I hope not to add to this ordeal.

Missing Love

After the dinner meal, I was very happy. I drove around a good bit in thought and on the phone with a couple friends. They were surprised. No one expected it--they had thought I was stupid in attempting any of this.

The next day I had to go to the gym at a different time--so I didn't run into him. Still, I thought alot. I felt less anxious now. I had accomplished something I wanted. I had gotten to know someone about whom I was very curious.

The following day, I was going to run into him. I had thought about him differently. I was somewhat more assured of having gotten his interest. A part of me knew that a meal is nothing, but a different part of me was satisfied. Then I got sad. I didn't know why at the time.

At the gym, I saw him doing cardio. Occasionally he does this prior to his weight workout. I went up to him from behind, smiled, and in a half hearted sarcastic tone praised the machine's read outs. "Pretty good," I said skeptically, as I smirked. He smiled, and said, hey, in between breaths.

I walked to the weight room, and in a few minutes he was there too.

We talked a good bit. We asked about each other's workouts, and our knowledge of the physiology and kinesthesiology of our routines. Although we were curious, we were also quizzing each other. He was pretty hard core, and I think I could only know that if I were too;)

He asked me what I was working on that day--a rhetorical question since I was doing lunges. I laughed, and said, Legs. He looked down in thought, and said, Oh, your hardest day. Yea, I said, its not going to be a nice workout.

He looked up and then down again, and then he said while looking up to me again, I've started to do more legs now.

That was endearing, and I didn't know how to respond without being flat out flirty. So I looked at him with bemusement, and smiled as warmly as I could. I should've said something but I didn't know what.

Although we had briefly alluded to sexuality during dinner, it was detached, and obviously an uncomfortable topic--at least for him. I was too when I was in his position.

We spotted each other back and forth. Without telling each other, we seemed to have timed our sets that way.

I'm scared to bring up sexuality to him--its the pink elephant in the room. I have in mind the type of situation in which to do so, but until then, I wanted him to feel safe around me. That means no jokes or other comments that would be fine around "out" folk.

I was nearing the end of my workout and was stretching on one of the mats. I usually avoid stretching near him because he's usually doing crunches. When he does them, his shorts fall down exposing his thighs and part of his ass. He holds them up at times with his fingers. He has a strong sense of modesty.

I was strechting in such a way that my head could only look in one direction, straight in front of me. That's when he came, smirked at himself, and laid down right in front of me, as he started his ab routine.

Whoa, I thought. This is somewhat bold. I didn't move or change directions. We kept at it, till a girl came and started chatting with him. It was very cute. She was nervous.

I was going to ask him out again, but I thought I'd better wait--a dumb move; I wish I would've had had something else in mind to say. So we finished our routines. I put on my jacket and got ready to leave. I went over to him, and half-heartedly asked him to eat again. But he had already told his friends that he was doing something with them after his workout. He paused, as did I, he smiled, and I did too. I might've come up with something else to say, or find a way to still eat with him, but I didn't--and I partly didn't want to.

I left, pensive, and a little sad.

I couldn't figure out the sadness, until today.

I know him in many more ways now, but I still don't feel like I know who he is. Perhaps that's the wrong way of writing it. I know important parts of who he is--but I don't know the part that is the basis for love--the soul and the vulnerability. I've seen glimpses of it--when I say something unexpected. Or when an insecurity becomes implicit in something we'll say.

Today, I was going about my day, when I realized--I have this need to be in a loving relationship. I am so self-focused. I hate it. I have another piece regarding those two issues.

Love confounds me to a great degree. It rules the universe however in my opinion.

I want to find out who he is. I want to find out, what makes him tick. That's not happening overnight or likely even sometime soon. I suppose I need to find a way to get the ball rolling nonetheless.

Dinners can be gaurded, and on campus, even more so. Plus, they are so freakin cliche, and somewhat unsuited for our interests. An activity is necessary. Something unordinary though.

Dinner 4

We covered a great deal in a relatively brief meal. Family, careers, personal goals--of course these are just the basics and only allude to the underlying personalities. A few interesting developments however did occur. He realized we were much more alike than he first thought. I knew it because of experience. The way he moved, looked at people, and handled himself in the gym. They were all tell tale indicators of deeper attitudes that emanate from certain similarities. He was tongue tied at several points during dinner. He just didn't expect it.

For one, he pinned me as being a regular American. He didn't know that one of my parents was an immigrant.

Two, and I was the one who didn't expect this one--we were both extremely athletically inclined and prioritized it more so than usual. Regarding this attitude, it's something more than just the average male's affixation to sports news or happenings. Perahps, the attitude is more akin to the greek ideal of balance. He was in high school an all season athlete. Although most of the sports he played were individual, he did have team experience. His body is unusual for an Asian. It is a mix of a heavy set All-American jock with that difficult to articulate lithe Asian construction. He told me about some of the crazy sacrifices he made in high school in order to continue his athletic career. He hasn't continued in college, but the ethic and volume of physical work is still there. He was proud of his accomplishments. In addition, unlike most regular jocks, he ate carefully and lightly. I asked him if his friends ate like that. He smiled and sort of laughed and said, no. I asked, do they make fun of you? Yea, he said, but I don't care. That was and to some degree still is me. As an undergrad hiding my diet was tough. I got made fun of a good bit. I didn't know how to handle it well though. I took their derision too seriously.

Three, our parents worked in similar occupations. This was a funny moment because I was half way shitting on the profession. I was cautious in doing so, and then of course he said--that's what my father does. I looked down and grinned. He likely thought I was embarassed, but then I looked up, and with an arched brow, said, Ha, that's funny, that's what my dad does too. Then we laughed, but he didn't laugh so hard, I think because he just didn't expect this degree of similarity. Clearly, I meant no harm because I had also talked about how much I respected my father.

Four, this similarity is a bit more abstract and less explicitly stated during the meal. We briefly got onto the topic of how our university handles the direction of its mission. I don't know who brought it up or what prompted it. I mentioned a brief aside on that topic and my experience while in school. To explain my experience I mentioned my very first major. I didn't finish it, but it was my original interest. He sat up straight, and looked at me with that earnest look again. He didn't say a word. He just kept looking at me. His earnestness was again accompanied by that openness. I think he wanted me to continue.

I was getting nervous, and I had finished my salad as had he. I put my fork down, looked at the empty plate, and said, "This was good." I paused since I had said the words in a way that made the phrase an obvious reference not to the salad, but to the experience as a whole.

Then I looked at him again, and he was still in that earnest posture, looking right at me, waiting for me to continue. I said, there's a lot more to the story of why I selected and then dropped that major, but that is a whole different conversation. I briefly admitted at the difficulty in picking that academic path as an undergrad and how it might be better suited as a corollary to professional studies. He laughed nervously, and agreed. Then I put my napkin onto the plate, making it obvious that I wanted to end the meal. I said, "Thanks... I now owe you dinner." Then he grinned and said, "I'm going to get more food." Insane I thought, because that salad was quite a mountain of everything.

We walked out, and ran into some of his friends. He waved and smiled at them, but didn't stop, and didn't introduce me. A wise move I thought and halfway regretted. I didn't think I was ready to meet his friends, nor was he, or even they ready. Having reached the door, we shook hands as I said, I'm sure I'll see you again at the gym soon.