Are they rude because they are nervous?

So many, nearly all, of the super attractive men at my gyms act rudely with me. They cut out in the middle of conversation. They abruptly end a conversation. They ignore me and do not greet me, even after we've been well acquainted.

I started this post months ago, and then I left it as a draft. Weeks later, I can write that after much thought and investigation, it is indeed the case that they act rude b/c they are nervous. It is insane how terrified extremely muscular, tall, and super attractive men can be around/of me. I do not understand why in the least. By my estimation, they outclass me looks-wise in every way. Most are professionally very accomplished.

One partial explanation is that most came out late in life and so their social skills in romantic situations with other men are very limited. This theory is weakened by the fact that most of them are comfortable initiating and carrying on conversation with other attractive gay men. I would say that I am unapproachable. However, I would assume that any nervousness resulting from that would disappear once I made it clear that I liked talking to them.

Is he thinking of me?

GB came back from his big beach trip with his friends. The moment I walked onto the gym floor, he immediately, swiftly, and with angling his back to me, walked right out.

Do they all fear me?

So I've been reading up on pick-up artistry and my eyes have been opened. If I had any doubts before that all those gorgeous men at the gym were into me, those doubts are beyond dead.

TM is back. He came around to get water by my treadmill. Of course he pretends not to see me, avoiding eye contact and saying hello. I would've been pissed except for one thing. He stops two steps later and begins to vigorously look at a glass wall that houses the cycling class. He seems to be searching for something. He bobs up and down and side to side.

There's nothing there. The room is empty. There is nothing beyond the room. But then I remember walking down that way... Those glass walls directly reflect on to my treadmill. He wants to know if I'm looking at him.

Is there room for doubt, sure. Except that about a half hour after he leaves the gym floor, he reappears. Fully dressed, with his large winter coat on. He comes around, again, to get water from the drinking fountain near my treadmill. There's a drinking fountain in the lockerroom. They well water at the gym entrance. Hell, I think there's even a drinking fountain by the front desk. The kicker, he paused to quickly glance at the glass wall again.... Dang, someone's a bit wanting to see me.

I acted cold and aloof. I wanted to see how far he would go.

After reflecting on my past interactions with him, I realized that I screwed up the most out of us two. Why? Because he shared and kept trying to share personal emotions and facts and I didn't take that as his investing in his interactions with him. He was stunned by my cold reactions. I was just truly overwhelmed.

Today, I saw him again. He looked at me this time and barely cracked a smile. He looked at me twice. His smile was in between the two looks. He didn't smile directly at me. He went to get a band and started to use it to stretch. I got off my treadmill. I was hyper and very amped on my music.

This couldn't go wrong. I know he wants to see me badly. Now he's even comfortable looking at me. I walked over to him fast. He got scared. He looked at me and then away really fast. He got into his stretching even more. "Hey!" I started and smiled big. He got more into his stretching. He didn't look at me. "Hey, how are you?" he asked. I'm fine. How are you? I asked. He didn't stop stretching. He didn't reply. Fine he finally said. But he didn't stop stretching. It really bothered me that he wasn't facing me. He was dismissing me. Then he slowly turned his head towards me, smiled, and said, "Happy New Years."

That was like freakin' two weeks ago. Happy New Years I retorted confused as to why he brought that up. He turned away and didn't say anything. He kept stretching. I looked down at his stretching and said. Well, I'll leave you to your stretching.

"Let's talk later" he shouted as I bolted off. WTF? The dick is back.

I jumped on a step mill. I started jamming on it. I saw him go to get water near my treadmill. I saw him duct as he tried to avoid me seeing him or vice vesa. Man this kid is like crazy not wanting me to see that he's doing things to check me out. What's his fear? Rejection. Ugh. Or just screwing things up.

He went to go do some pec deck flys. When I randomly look in his direction, I saw him jerk his head away. He was looking in my direction.

I finished and bolted off to stretch. Just then, the insanely gorgeous young banker came in and got on the treadmill two treadmills down from the one I was using. My gawd he is incredible. Well, I will play tonight no matter what I thought.

As I went over to grab the bar I used to stretch (I was thrilled it was available), I saw TM see me coming. He freaked and got more into his exercise. This is his universal reaction. He always quickly moves into action and pretends to be really into it when I come around. It forces me to have to make the first move of course. Usually though, he gets giddy when I actually come and talk to him.

But not tonight. The Gorgeous Banker (GB) was here and I was still pissed about his earlier reaction. Since he's so busy, he can come and talk to me when his time permits. He left before I finished stretching. He takes and hour in the lockerroom and I stretch for about 20 mins. We both know this. We've commented on it before. He might be assuming we'll run into each other there. But I'm not in the mood, even if I can act cheery after his little retarded cold welcome.

GB gets off the treadmill. He heads towards me. Grabs a large ball and starts doing situps. He's within eye shot but not ear shot. He does some more stuff around me. He finishes. He could've exited the other way, but instead he's walking past me.

Is it all in my head?

Boom -- as he passes, he drops a glove right in front of me. Oh dear. What might've caused that? In fact, I didn't see him lift a single weight tonight. Why was that glove even there?


If seen both of these guys stare me up and down when they think I'm not looking. I used to be annoyed by their clandestine peeping and yet cold and aloof demeanors towards me. Now I know... They just don't know what to do and are scared out of their minds of rejection. Its going to be up to me to deal with their initial rejection (b/c they will want to force me to demonstrate with lots of proof that I really won't reject them) and do most of the leg work initially. They percieve me as unreachable. Not necessarily by my appearance, although that is a necessary factor, but by the way that I carry myself. I make it obvious that I could dismiss God himself and shrug it off.

Truth is... I know both of them are nice guys at heart. I've seen their kindness in action and in the expressions on their gorgeous faces.


Of course, I did have an audience for all of this... All those who wish they had my attention were being quite attentive to the theatrics unfolding along side them.

TM be Gone

TM has been working till 11 PM every night this week. He told me when I briefly ran into him yesterday. Since he's been gone though, my attention has been forced to wander. And oh damn.... is every drop-dead gorgeous guy into me at the gym?

I've been hit on my so many insanely hot guys, I've been flabbergasted. The kicker was tonight when I caught this guy pining away at me as I stretched. His desire, conflict, and indecision to come and speak to me was so palpable. I felt awful. He's beautiful. Really beautiful. His body is lagging. But it doesn't mean he's not beautiful.

Why didn't I go talk to him? Because the intensity and tension in his eyes scared me. I'm afraid to burst his bubble. What if after talking to him for 2 seconds he decides that I'm an a-hole or that up close I'm just not all that? Would I want to lose the attention of a beautiful guy? If I act stand offish though, and every so often throw him a bone, I mean, a wandering glance, then won't I just keep him there with enough hope?

Totally narcissistic, and totally obvious that I am needy.

What do others think of my crushes?

TM (5)

Damn. Crushes are crushing.

I pined away for him all last evening and then some this morning. Thankfully, I am experiencing these emotions from what seems 5 miles away. It is an odd thing to explain, but it is a form of detachment.

This morning on my way to the gym, I had decided that I were to see him there (unlikely), I would just lay all my cards on the table, in a strategic way of course.

When I walked in, there he was, in all his splendid beauty.

He averted his eyes. I would've been offended except for the fact that I saw him through the mirrors stare at me the entire time I wasn't watching him. Eventually he walked by me and waived.

I was going to go over to him and ask how his holiday and work had been this past week.

But I decided to start my workout instead. He was on the phone intermittently. He's never done that before.

Then I realized I had carbs left in my body from earlier this morning.

My tan looked great as did my hair and face. When I momentarily snapped out of being entranced by him, I realized I was causing quite a stir and many were just staring at me.

So instead of approaching him, I upped my weights and the pace of my workout to increase my pump.

It was working.

He switched machines. So I started doing a super set that required me to walk past him.

Then the moment happened. He saw me walking, pumped and full, in good lighting. He left shortly after.

He may have been in a hurry or whatever, but the point was that he has never seen me look big. He always sees me during cardio sessions which leave me stringy and flat. Now he knows I am not that far off from what he looks like physically.

We'll see what happens tomorrow. I asked him for his favorite DJ. Defensively, cautiously, after asking why I asked (I said I'm always looking to sample new mixes), he told me.

Tomorrow I will let him know I listened and enjoyed it.

TM (4)

I had a dream with TM this morning. He was in the lockerroom in a towel kneeling on the ground. I had just finished a workout and was coming in. I was walking fast when I noticed him. He was looking for something.

"What did you lose?" I asked.
"I dropped my contacts and I can't see well without them," he said barely looking up from the ground.

I knelt across from him and began to help him look. "They couldn't have fallen that far from here," he said. Then I noticed that the lens was right in front of him, where he was looking.

I smiled. "Are you going to tell me your vision is so bad that you cannot see it?"

He couldn't look up at me. He smiled. He briefly attempted to look up but did not. Then I recognized that smile from my ex. He did that whenever he wanted me to kiss him. I then realized he could see the lens and that it was positioned so that we would be kneeling in front of each other.

I leaned into him and kissed him on the cheek. His skin was delicious.

He did nothing. He just held the same position and kept smiling.

Fucktard I thought. He didn't show any reaction. As my frustration level rose, I started to get up. Then like an over-exuberant vampire, he threw himself at me, face first, his lips landing on my neck between my ear and jaw bone. His aim was perfect and I immediately gasped for air as the intensity of the pleasure overwhelmed me.

Then he began to kiss me again and again along my neck. The pleasure was too much and I lost the ability to breathe, so I pulled away and just stared at him in disbelief. He just smiled... at me this time. Then I woke up.

The Mutant (2) & Halloween

My Halloween prep is in full swing. I'm in the belly of the whale, i.e. no salt, tons of potassium, and limited water intake. This is the part that sucks the most. But it is all worth it in order to look shredded and dry on the day of the partay.

Devoid of carbs and water, my muscles have shriveled up. However, my face has decided to join in on the action. My features have become so sharp. That, coupled with my stepped up facial routine, has left me with quite the cover on this book.

I get stares almost wherever I go and I notice that when I interact with people, they are not just looking at me to communicate, but they are simultaneously gazing at me. I just went to the convenience store across my building and I couldn't make eye contact with the "straight" Indian cashier. In addition to gazing at me, he couldn't hide his lascivious grin off his face. Distracted, he dropped my change and apologized profusely. He still couldn't stop smiling. I was forced to look up at him to acknowledge his apology, but then I made sure to just keep my eyes on my change.

The gym has noticed my facial changes too it seems. Yesterday, I was extracting reluctant grins from almost every regular gym goer there. I wanted however to see the Artist and the Mutant. Neither showed.

Munchkin was there though. And as I stretched, I felt his eyes burning right through me. He has such an incredibly beautiful face that I don't understand why he even would recall me. But last night, as I stretched in front of a mirror, I stole a look at him and then I looked at my reflection, and I was compelled to admit... Someone might actually think we're in the same league of attractiveness. Good fucken gawd.

That was yesterday. Today I got there and everybody was there. Except the Mutant. Since he missed yesterday, I figured he'd be in today. I was right.

Munchkin and his crew were there today too. There's another little one that's roided up that although not beautiful, has a sort of cute "charm" to him. I saw him talking up the Mutant a couple weeks back. Today, Charming Roid Boy followed up again and Munchkin and the Crew descended on him as if to anoint him.

Lucky Mutant. He was being ushered into the cool group. Even though he's been working out next to Munchkin for over 4 mos now, the official inauguration brings with it actual acknowledgement. A trainer was talking to me when this happened but I witnessed it all through the reflection in a mirror. I was dying of jealousy both because I have never been approached like that by that group and because I didn't want to lose the Mutant to that crew.

Was he prettier than me? Eh. I make Charming Roid Boy shit a brick with my presence. So I doubt he's perceived that way.

I know Mutant has been dating someone. An actual honest to gawd nice guy. Imagine that. The Nice Guy is in a separate but overlapping clique with the Crew. That likely explains the familiarity and subsequent anointing. My heart sank. It sank into the pit of my stomach, where it hurt.

I turned on my tablet and threw myself into a good book, after I dismissed the trainer. I looked up every so often during the following hour. The Crew had left. Mutant was left alone.

I caught him staring at me from that crazy long distance between my treadmill and where he was working out. I know nonetheless that the way the lighting is in this gym, one can see clearly enough between these two points so as to even make out facial expressions.

He flinched both times, terrified that he would be and had in fact been caught by me.

I pretended not to have noticed and continued reading. I wanted to give him permission to look, afterall, it was and right now is, all I have.

Why do I like him? Why why why when a few weeks back I considered him second rung or tier?

I realized, he's not a queen. He's not bitchy. He doesn't play games. And THAT is golden.

We've swapped e-mails and conversed. But there is an awkwardness on his part towards me. I've seen him discombobulate whenever I run into him and he didn't expect it. I feel crazy awkward around him too but I think I have managed to hide it well. I *think.* I asked him to workout. He declined. He's not the type that works out well with others. I tried to follow it up with conversation. He looked down and said, "I better get started on my ab routine." He bolted off. During our last long conversation, he rambled, and then, rudely, said, "I'd better get back to my workout." Then without waiting for any acknowledgment from me, just bolted.

He seems so uber confident when he's not around me. He knows he's utterly gorgeous as he towers over most at the gym. He struts the lockerroom in a towel, knowing his symmetry puts even the hottest among us to shame. He's the third recently like this... Why do these very confident men fall apart and ramble when we talk?

Can I assume that he likes me and want to avoid me because he really likes the guy he's with?  That's the ideal interpretation. Nice Guy is not a great beauty. Just attractive. Nice Guy and I, appearance-wise, are almost complete opposites in terms of "type." I have until now assumed that I am not Mutant's type and he's being polite in rebuffing my "friendly" overtures. His potentially "rude" foibles I have written off as attempts at propriety. He could otherwise just be actually flat out rude. But given that he stares at me, even yet still, makes that latter interpretation a little less likely than the former.

So they came for you, Mutant, and brought you into their fold. My only consolation is that your eyes were on me this evening... Even though they may not bring me in... Even though I seem to remain an outsider... I can at the very least, and indeed it is the VERY least, savor the fact that they cannot ignore me. Even their soon to be neophyte has eyes that seem to often come to rest on me.

The Mutant (1)

My vanity is currently at full blast, fueled on by my new gorgeous gay roommate who seems to compliment my appearance at every other turn.

I have a new crush at the gym. I call him The Mutant because he is unbelievably tall, broadshouldered, long necked, and has the tiniest waist that would make any petite girl jealous.

I noticed him first because he kept staring at me in the lockerroom. He seemed like an overly tall kid with muscle on him. But boy has he filled out in the last 3 months. I get hard just about every time I see him. Lest I neglect to mention, his face is insanely gorgeous too. Enormous dark green eyes hooded by long dark brown locks sit atop his broad gleaming smile.

After some initial conversation, we realized we had a good deal in common. However, he struck me as being closeted and thus dangerous since I could see myself liking him. So I've distanced myself.

I had decided to talk to him because I had caught him looking terrified when I nearly made eye contact with him while he was checking me out. He's terrified of me? Even if it is indirectly terrified, I was quite taken aback that someone so stunning could have such a reaction to me. It merited a conversation.

He's noticed the distance. He notices me, always. He's an expert at hiding his true emotions, a realization I have just made. I have seen him freak out over me, and then 10 minutes later, walk past by me, cool and collected, staring at his blackberry, as if I were the last person in the world with whom he would care to talk.

Our second conversation, one prolonged by his rambling and my ability to ask almost innumerable questions, left me unable to determine whether he was rambling out of nervousness or whether he was just self-absorbed. He seemed totally aloof to me emotionally, although what seemed like his struggle to make casual eye contact suggested the exact opposite.

After establishing this distance, he has unfortunately caught me drooling over him a few times. So, I reasoned, since he is probably straight, he now thinks me a wierdo.

Firmly entrenched in this belief, today I proceeded to stretch near him. The gym was packed, so this was not on purpose. Our movements did not necesitate eye contact, yet his peripheral vision caught me. He turned swiftly to me, betraying perhaps a bit more than a hint of intensity in his subsequent gaze directed at me, and almost as quickly, the thick veil of aloofness that guards everything he feels, fell, deafening his expression to a simple smile and wave. His hair fell over his cheekbones and I nearly came right there and then. Has he gotten somehow even more attractive in the past couple of weeks?

Moreover, he acknowledged me. He's not wierded out by me despite catching me drooling over him???

I couldn't help but break out in too a large school girl grin. I waived and crouched into my stretch simultaneously. Then came the kicker. He turned to assume the posture of the exercise he was performing. Then, an instant later, he turned back to look at me, with that swiftness again, except this time, the intensity could not be much hidden. He stared at me for a beat. His mouth almost seemed to hang open. I held him in my peripheral vision examining his face closely without ever looking at him directly. And then I saw what he would not say, "Aren't you going to come over to talk to me?"

So much for wierding him out. He wants to talk to me?

The bitch in me thinks, "Well, why don't you come over here like a man, Mr. Gorgeous, and just talk to me?"

Then the reasonable me retorts, "Can't you see he's shy as fuck and wants desperately to pretend like you don't matter to him? Don't you realize that even casual initiation of conversation would make him feel exposed and naked before you?"

But why?

You know why.

Ugh. I tell myself that this is wishful thinking. But even if it is not, he's still buried in a closet. He's like a perfect gem that you must have but that is encased in an impenetrable see-through box.

What will I say to him tomorrow?????

He Saw Me - Reflection

Since my encounter with Celebrity Boy, I went online to either confirm or disconfirm my experience. Lo and behold, there have indeed been rumored reports of this angelic creature cruising well-known gay gyms. His romantic life, with one exception, also has been a thinly veiled tabloid construct.

I haven't seen him since then, but the effects of my brief run-in were far more lasting. No longer were the gods of my regular gay gym these impossibly unattainable creatures who acted odd around me only because I must be awkward. No, if I could even register on the radar of someone as gorgeous as Celebrity Boy, damn, well then maybe I'm in a league above what I've thought myself to be in.

It sounds crass, but in a social context, in a gay world, one's confidence is made or broken by these ideas. How do I know if I'm being ignored b/c I'm insignificant or if instead its b/c I intimidate some super gorgeous dude? How do I know that the stares I catch out of the corner of my eye really exist and are actually favorable?

Self Doubt: "Oh, he's so hoooot." "Oh YOU'RE sooooOOO HOT." "You're a very special boy."
I've heard these in the lockerroom time and time again. And when I see the object of these comments, half the time, I am not only disappointed, I am thoroughly bewildered at what they might see in him. Entire Facebook pages are littered with what I can only describe as "courtesy flirts."

In light of such hypocrisy, I cannot accept the overt compliments of others. I instead choose to rely on involuntary displays of attraction as a more true measure of sexual influence.

However, such displays are keenly kept discreet by the super hot, and usually allowed to be far too overt among the non-hot. Herein lies my self-doubt.

But much of that was blown away by Celebrity Boy's simple and yet direct admiration.

Emboldened I struck up conversation with this impossibly gorgeous news anchor at my gym who's body leads me think he really did jump out of a DC comic book. I also spoke to this guy I've seen in Brazil almost every time I've gone. Perhaps my attitude was noticeable to others and that is why this super hot model who has been "trying" to flirt with me for months now, finally asked me out, albeit by stating that it would have to be in 6 weeks, after all the fashion weeks had come to an end.

All three of these conversations have thus far led to nothing. Turns out that although they seem to find me almost terrifyingly attractive, they cannot in the short term get over it enough to act normal. Unfortunately, I was not tremendously blessed with patience ;)

I'm direct I'm told. I don't hold back punches. And what is worst, others can quickly discern these traits in me. Combined with my appearance, I'm like a people repellent.

But out there somewhere, I know there will come someone who can see past all that. Who can see the confused and insecure person I am. Or maybe I have to find a way to come across as more of what I am.

Despite my complaining, I still love this adventure, this aesthetic high. I am beyond lucky and for that I am grateful.

The Adventure Continues

I'm still having a blast teasing men till no end. I thought I would have gotten bored by now. I'm finishing up a cutting cycle and I suppose I just look pretty hot from any angle when I wear a skimpy top at the gym.

The men I wanted there today did not show up. Murphy's what's its name? LOL.

One dude who is very hot but whose attitude I cannot stand was there. I *completely* ignored him. He left the gym floor and then suddenly walked back in. I saw his face as he unexpectedly came into my view. He was tortured by me.

Eons ago, I had approached him. Though he demonstrated interest, he was so rude. I swear my dog had better manners. I was flabbergasted by his rudeness in fact. Now I took my revenge. Childish and stupid, I preened around the room. I was happy. Happy to be the center of attention and yet never directly give my desire to be so away. Hypocritical.

Maybe I like seeing the reactions of people, to study their nature. Maybe because it reminds me that I am just like them. I will bend over backwards to look at a gorgeous dude, but all the while pretend like it never happened.

He Saw Me

When I was a kid and barely moved to a big city, I used to say "I saw him" to describe my sighting of a celebrity. But today, I had to think the opposite, "He saw me."

I was given told to work from home this morning and so I slept in and decided to hit the gym mid morning, long after the professional class masses had clocked into work.

It's a nice break from the hustle and bustle of the rapid weekday mornings. In fact, the gym was empty. There might have been 5 people max in the whole triple level complex. I had the whole place to myself. I came to a different branch than the one I frequent on mornings. I felt fugly, so I chose to hide out and just focus on getting in a hard workout.

Squats, check. Shoulder presses check. Finally, incline presses. I pace in between sets when I'm not super-setting. This gym branch is full of mirrors, like a big fun house of vanity. I can't resist to check on every angle of myself, especially when no one is around.

I held my bangs back, amplifying the dome of jet black strands that flowed back over my head. I love the lighting at this branch. My cheek bones stand out in bolder relief here and my eyes deeper and darker; my lips a more pronounced red. Since no one would be here to criticize me, I wore a skimpy tank. My tan had set in - finally. I looked sleek and yet tight. If only the whole world were lit like this gym!

I paced back to the incline bench and hammered out the next slow and cathartic set. Slightly out of breath, I set the bar in its place and leaned back... far back, almost into a yawn. At the climax of my stretch, out of the corner of my eye, I noticed a mischievous grin.

I wasn't alone. I slowly brought myself back into position, and feigned interest in my ipod. As I took it out of my pocket, I turned further into my torso and looked for that smile again.

There was a man, or a very tall boy, curling an ez-bar in a corner of the weight room floor. He was behind a mirror covered pillar, but was angled such that we could each see each other easily.

His spikey brown hair seemed familiar. Then he finished his set, placed the bar on the ground, and turned. I slowly moved my gaze slightly away towards the clock. He turned towards me, and again, smiled. I chose another mirror through to which to observe him.

Eyebrows -- were all I saw as he continued to smile in my direction and bowed his head slightly. Holy begeeezus. He was unbelievably gorgeous. I was stunned. And just as quickly, I knew his name, his story, and the most recent tabloid tidbits I had seen of him, lodged into my memory only because he is just that freakin' hot.

He turned towards the bar again. Bent down and did another set. I didn't pace this time. I sat and watched him. He was bigger than I would have thought. He was almost huge. Wow. He looks much smaller on screen. Such an angelic and yet mischievous face on such a large and muscular body.

He must be bulking, hopefully for a movie, because although large and well shaped, he lacked that tightness that comes with hard definition. His grey and side-less t-shirt, left that in plain view.

He could feel me watching. I proceeded to my next set. I could feel him watching. I got up to pace. He turned to face me. My heart raced. I felt humbled. He's one of those gods. Those who are so beautiful, even Hollywood only gets a few of them every several decades. He's not some guy that the world has to convince itself that he is beautiful. No, he is the epitome of masculinity and prettiness. Why was he looking at me and smiling.

OH gawd. He must know I'm gay. He's mocking me. He must assume I'm dying to fuck him. The big straight guy joke they all seem to share. He paced. I stayed put. Let's see what he does.


More sets. Now I was going to ignore him flat out. He crosses the room to the treadmills. I don't even have to confirm who he is. His features are so striking and recognizeable from what could be ten miles away.

I couldn't get myself to puff out my chest and lift up my nose. He as just too beautiful. All I could do was bend over backwards to pretend like he was not who he was.

He picked the treadmill that overlooks the weight room. Smack front and center. He would look at me periodically and smile. I didn't look back. His gazing got broken up more and more into intermittent looks. His smile died down, and then it turned into what seemed like embarassment.

He couldn't see that I could see him without him knowing. That's the advantage of seeing through 3 mirrors.

Finally, he stops. Get downs and begins to cross the room to the lockerrooms. As he nears me, he bends his head down. But instead of a smile, I see embarassment, almost shame. How can this be all happening so clearly and so fast.

He leaves. I tell my best friend. "Tino, you got cruised."

Me: No way.

Friend: Yup, and you missed your shot.

Gulp.

I'm so happy today. I've been busting my butt to get back into shape after pride. I tore down the house at pride. It was fantastic. I took off my shirt and the dance floor seemed to come to a halt. A group of men around me, whom I did not know, bursted out into cat calls as my torso came into view.

I thought I was in good shape. I didn't think it was worth all that.

As I get older, and I settle into working life, I pick up on people's insecurities more easily. I'm entering that age where what people wanted to achieve they will have soon, and what they shelved away, will likely never happen or perhaps after they retire.

One regret that comes up often, or perhaps it is not a regret, but instead an insecurity, is the experience of feeling desireable and beautiful.

It seems that few get this privilege. Is that really the case? Or is it just amongst the professional class.... ?

Olympic Moment 2012

I just can't get over this picture... ! Mr. Van Der Burgh is one sexy champ ;)

Alienation

I miss São Paulo so much, I can hardly stand it.

I never know who's into me...

During my first semester in law school, this guy recognized me at the gym. He asked me if I worked out at the gym in my home town. I was taken aback a bit by the fact that some stranger whom I had never seen before recognized me from across the country. I should have realized that this is common among the jetset crowd.

He took my number and told me he could take me to some "cultural" events next time he was in town. He lives on both coasts. I blew him off. He wasn't hot. He was kinda chubby and homely. Very confident though. He saw me a few more times and asked me out to drinks, but I was always busy.

A few months later, I saw him on television. Turns out he was a major entertainment mogul. Ooooh -- those kind of "cultural" events. Dang it. We texted some. I haven't been home in almost 2 yrs now, so no chance there.

For the past several months, this really hot guy at my gym has been nervously staring at me a lot. Several weeks later, I spotted him in an A&F ad. Damn. He merited some attention. So I struck up conversation. He was very excited that I spoke to him. We introduced ourselves. He had a slight, very slight, accent. Where are you from? I asked. NO WAY! We shared ancestry. Very odd. I ended the conversation because I didn't want to interrupt his workout and the gym was closing soon.

He was even more nervous around me after then. It was ridiculous just how nervous he was. He was so nervous it was beyond awkward. I started getting weirded out. He would vacillate between nervously acknowledging me to flat out ignoring me. I just said hi whenever he was in a courageous mood.

Recently, he had been more on the gutsy side. Saying hi to me regularly. Today, he didn't say hi, and when I was about to look away in slight disgust, he winked at me. I waived a bit. Later in the workout, he did the same thing. He came over with a big smile later on to ask how much longer I had to go on the machine. I said I was done. He smiled big. I was in a hurry. I'm flying out in 90 minutes to Floripa to party with my boys as I write this entry.

I went to the treadmill and hammered out my insane mileage. During that time though, I noticed he had taken off his earphones for the remainder of his workout. What a shame I thought. We speak similar foreign languages, we're close in age, I assume, and yet we can't be normal around each other.

Fuck this. I don't care if this ends badly, but it IS ending today. I got off the machine and went to ask him out. He sped off to the lockerroom. I followed. I chased him down. Do you like the food from our home country? I asked without anything else to lead into the conversation. He smiled without looking at me. I love it, he said.

Want to go try some sometime? I asked.
A mischievious smile overcame him and he still would not look me in the eyes.
Where? he asked.
I was puzzled.
What location? he asked in our language.
I don't know, I said honestly.
Look, I'd love to get to know you better. I don't know many from our country here. I'm headed to South American for a couple of weeks. Can I get your cell and give you a call when I get back and we can go try some of that food?
Yea, he said dissappointedly.
He focused on the lock on his locker.
I'll get your number too if I can just get this lock to open.
He apparently could not remember the combination.
He slammed it and said, looks like that is not happening right now.

I took his number. I texted him. We walked back to the gym floor. He was limping.
"Leg day is the worst," I said.
He smiled and looked at me. Yes it is, he said.
We both had done leg workouts that day.

I walked past him, looked back, smiled, and said, Take care.

He smiled, but still looked disappointed, and waived.

******

I walked on the treadmill for over an hour befuddled by that odd smile on his face when he said "where?"

What did he mean by it? Why was he later disappointed? Why did his nervousness just vanish afterwards?

Where? What did he expect for me to have a list?

Oh. He wanted to hear -- "my place."

Drats.

He wasn't getting what he wanted right away.

*****

After complaining about him to my current BFF, I did a little googling. Turns out he's a leading designer back in our country. A designer who can model his own clothes. He was discovered as a teenager for modeling by one of the top photographers in the world.

Oops. I suppose perhaps he's not used to being made to wait.

I pray for his patience and that I find him as interesting as his internet profile makes him out to be.

Happy New Years 2012 -- Unexpected E-Mail from the Ex

After a long time away from the blogosphere, I read my last two posts and thought, my lohrd, this new post plus the others will just make me seem like a totally needy fart. Oh well.


I had an interesting NYE. I spent it with the unbelievably gorgeous Spanish Girl. I hope I have written about her here before. I want her to be the mother of my children because she is so beautiful, gorgeous, brilliant, multilingual, and wise.


We did the whole Spanish eating grapes tradition. Cute.


No, we did not hook up and make babies last night. I came home and felt sick and just wanted to be unconscious. This morning, I arose to an interesting e-mail.


About 1.5 months ago, my ex-bf, from São Paulo, and I had been e-mailing each other several times a day. About six weeks ago, he mentioned a hook up, and after then, his e-mails became very infrequent. His last e-mail was about him being in bed with a very beautiful guy.


Well, my ex- is gorgeous, great in bed, chivalrous, and not afraid to make the first move. So, he's definitely going to be having a good time whenever he so desires. However, I didn't like the fact that it was usually up to me to restart our rapport whenever he had a fling. I thought, "I think I'm the one who really wants contact in this scenario."


In great homo-fashion, I ceased contact and assassinated him in my mind. He was dead to me and just a memory within a few weeks. Although I had always told myself I would contact him my next time in his city, I even had decided against that plan, even though I will be there next month.


Perhaps my read of him was wrong. This morning my inbox had an email from him headed, "I miss you." He asked me about my current state of being and my family. He also attached an old IM conversation that he says he stumbled upon. It was our post-break up debriefing. An odd choice. Maybe I have yet to discern the meaning of it to him. He said he read it over again and felt the great desire to hug me. I did right by him. I have not done right by others. But I did right by him only because of his beauty, I think. I contest that such a reason does not negate the value of my actions.


He and I had created IM names to which only we were privy. We did so in order to have IM conversations without having to be invisible to anyone. We could be in constant contact w/ each other with our smart phones via IM without the need for text no matter the country in which we found ourselves. Last time I recalled, he said he had forgotten his username.

He's very young. About 10yrs my junior. My good reason indicates that I should not take his little drop in the e-mail bucket very seriously.


No one is on my radar right now. Well, there is one Brazilian at my gym, but my read of him, indicates he is just as vulnerable to fear as my ex. Are we not all the same? When I speak to gay men, I often witness flashes of desire and fear wash over their faces  as they cloak these emotions moments before opening their mouths to speak to me.


Does that make age a non-issue? My ex has more years of relational experience on his back than I do. He has endured greater betrayal and heartbreak.


Why did he wait so long to e-mail me? He could have just started conversation any regular day, but he picked New Years. Was he waiting for me to restart the conversation? Was he attempting to make a point? Was he testing me the way I was testing him? Did he have a New Year's kiss? If so, why e-mail me so soon after? I know last year, with my New Year's kiss, I was nicely distracted from thinking of him.


Now, perhaps the best approach is just to respond simply and directly without the creation of expectations. Politeness I am sure will suffice to entice without much investment or roll of the dice. 

New Years at Ipanema

So I get to the beach to meet up with my São Paulo friends. I never expected to actually find them given that my phone got no coverage. However, I bumped into them almost as soon as I go there. After our slew of Brazilian cheek kisses, we made our way to their beach chairs and they introduced me to another couple. One of them has been working out at my gym back home for 2 yrs. Crazy coincidence. He’s not a very outgoing or nice guy, so I didn’t remember his name. Older guy, very nice body; face is not so nice.

After our introduction, he never spoke nor acknowledged me. Typical American. A Brazilian would have been polite enough to make small talk. I had to go the bathroom and I figured I would feel less self-conscious about being in a skimpy speedo if I went to cool off by taking a dip in the water.

I told my friends I'd be right back. I got up and started looking for a place to put my wallet and keys. I put them in between my friends' beach chairs.

Then I surveyed the area to find the best route to the water. Everyone was pretty engrossed in conversations amongst themselves. It was a good mix of folks from what looked like all over the world.

As I looked towards the horizon, I caught one of my SP friends checking me out from head to toe. He was quite unabashed about it despite the fact that his bf was sitting right next to him. When I caught him, he made no expression whatsoever, but just looked away.

I have a crush on him. I got sad that he was not impressed enough to have any expression on his face. The beach was jam packed evenly for pretty much as far as I could see. So I figured the best approach was just a straight line to the water.

I was TERRIFIED. Most guys were “in shape.” But there were A LOT, A LOT of them were just plainly IMPOSSIBLY ripped and muscular. I mean, ripped, as in under 3% bodyfat. They were like walking anatomy charts. I thought “geez... my little ol’ 8 pack will do nothing for me here.” Their tans were gorgeous too. My last min jam at the tanning salon was not going to cut it. But, even if I was terrified, I sure was not going to let anyone see my fear!

Dang it. I worked my ass for this moment, and I was going to enjoy it. My mind was racing. It wouldn’t stop. I forced myself to think of the sexiest guy I could remember. I made myself believe I was him and told myself– now walk like him!

So I headed off for the water. As I started to walk, all these groups of heads turned in my direction. “Oh man! Here we go! The big CHECK OUT AND LOOKOVER…," I thought to myself.

“Okay… no biggie. This is one of the biggest holidays… They have others to look at… Goddang it—there’s a collection of gorgeous gay men here from around the world… This won’t last more than a few painful moments… relax… keeping the zen… ohm” :D

As I walked, I started to notice that they were not looking away… That’s when I got REALLY scared. I remembered what my friend in the US had said about folks here, that if they stare for more than a moment, they like you, and you have to stare back. So I eventually I looked back in part just to confirm what I was sensing and seeing only out of the corners of my eyes. Many, like little birds on a beach, turned away. “Okay… cool… it was all in my head…”

As I started to get deeper into the crowd, I started to hear catcalls. I thought, “Oooh… there must be some really hot guy walking nearby…” I turned to look for this other guy. There was no one in the area standing or moving. Everyone around me for a good 50 yards was sitting down. Then the catcalls started getting closer to me and louder. As I finally decided to look down at the guys in the area immediately  around me, I saw them cat calling, smiling, and looking at me… and avoiding eye contact at the same time.

Then I realized, they were catcalling as soon as I passed them by. I was like hooOOOOOLEEEE COW… This beach is like the best of the best… It is the Olympics of my homo-people… How is this happening?!?! I lost my composure and was just stunned…

As I continued making my way to the water, the catcalls and head turns were like a wake I was leaving. I noticed that guys would look and cat call much more so after I passed them. I couldn't fight back a faint  smile... I couldn't really smile all thew way because I just thought it was too ridiculous to believe that this was really happening to me.

Eventually, I reached the water. I walked straight in until the water reached my shoulders. I just wanted to be non-self-conscious and know that a bunch of eyes were not examining me. I stayed in the water a while. I wanted to just relax for a moment. I had a really hard time peeing because I couldn’t relax hahaahahahaha. I didn’t want to get my hair wet. However, there were some SERIOUS rip-tides. The ocean had its way with me. It threw me so hard onto the sand at one point, that my entire right forearm was deeply scraped, and I had blood all over my arm.

I love nature =) 

Eventually my friend approached the beach. I walked over to him. He said they were going to saddle up with their other friends and asked if I wanted to come along or if I wanted to stay here to wait for my other friends. I said I’d come along. We gathered our stuff and headed over.

As I walked through those crowds, I saw my gay life flash before my eyes. You might think I’m being dramatic but hear me out. EVERYONE from my gym in São Paulo was there. I saw guys from my gym back home. I saw folks from my gym back at school. Goodness gracious… the entire gay gym set was here! But… as if that was not enough… I saw guys from college there too! Even guys I had suspected of being gay freshman year! I literally saw men I had known from coast to coast in the U.S.

As I kept walking, I noticed my friend’s boyfriend. His body was pretty bad. No muscle at all; a little belly, and terrible bone structure. He had a gorgeous face and a pretty tan. He moved around with total confidence. He had no issues w/ himself and was comfortable in his own skin. I wondered what it would be like to be so confident.

Feeling Needy

I hate it. Detest it. It is Gross.

Parents

My mom just called me. I graduated last month. My parents and I spent a long time during that week. All we did was talk. We never argued. It was amazing. My siblings were mostly out of the country doing their own things. My favorite brother has not been speaking to me for almost 1.5 yrs now. He boycotted my graduation despite both of my parents asking him to come. My told me that he just lost his job. He told me in private b/c he's been not wanting to worry my mother.

My mother was moving some of our old things from one house to another. She needed some help so she asked me to tell my father. She called me about an hour later to tell me that I didn't have to tell him. He was already there. My father lives a LONG way from that house. I was surprised.

Today my mother called me again. She and my father talked a lot while moving the things. About his upcoming non-profit trip, the kids, my graduation, my new apartment. My mom said it was a very "tender" moment. She said that after all maybe he's not such a bad guy. Then she paused, and said, "Well, I wasn't very nice to him either when we were together..."

I didn't say anything. I was just surprised. My father's wife does not talk to him. She hates him. She's also not nearly as attractive as my mom -- hence why I have a full half brother who is older than some of my half siblings. Doesn't every person with divorced parents wonder if they might get back together again?

Face It

What do you do when you just have such a gorgeous face?