i shared a chuckle with myself...

... on the way home from Javier's house yesterday afternoon. Silly Dominic, so you finally got laid, and then some. Suffice to say I also got a lotta bit of closure in the bargain, as well.

For the past 3 or 4 months, off and on, I would call my ex, Javier, (we were together for the bulk of 2004) to see if i could bogart some cuddle time, just coz, given our history, i knew there was nothing else that i wanted from him, but felt that i could trust him enough with my occasional moments of vulnerability. Some of them, anyway, and basically I need to recharge my batteries in that way. It never does amount to JUST cuddling of course, and would be some intense, hateful, passionate, no-strings sex interspersed amongst the quietude. This last time was no different, but at the same time, because of how it was set up, it was a milestone moment for me, and at the very least, for our (non)relationship.

I chuckle to myself, chide myself at the same time. Roll my eyes in half-recrimination. "Oh, Dominic," I say as I wait for the 99S bus taking me back to New York. Yes, my restlessness took me over the river to Jersey where he lived, but that's not where it started. It started at around 6AM as I was nearing the final leg of my shift at the hotel. Impulsively I called him, and he decided to pick up, loud on the speaker. "I can't hear you because it's really loud here, but I'm at the Green Room, and I will probably be here till about seven. So if you want to meet up try to get here by then."

I don't bother responding. Instead I hang up and turn to my coworker Ricardo and calmly ask him to swipe my time card out at the appropriate time for me. Him owing me, of course, really had no choice but to agree. Quickly and efficiently I gathered my things, changed, and went out to flag a cab down to take me to Tribeca. SO not thinking.

The Green Room is an after hours spot on Spring Street between Varick and Hudson. They cater to no demographic in particular, save the restless. Every other motive is up in the air, on the ground, and easily interchangeable with the next, because the bottom line is no one really gives a fuck. Javier greeted me warmly enough, and we chilled there for a bit. He was drunk, but boasted freedom from any other uncontrolled substances, almost puffing up his chest even more, if that was even possible, and grinning proudly like a kid that ate all their vegetables. He pulled me towards him as he leaned against the wall and professed his undying lust for me. Smirking, I played along, suffering his hand on my white 3/4 length pant-flip-flop-wearin-after-work-ass. Why begrudge him his agenda when I had my own?

Further cementing my hell-bent status, I coyly followed him to the basement where the bathrooms were, and shockingly, into a stall! He picked one where the light bulb was blown out, because, while the stalls where private and had individual doors, the doors themselves were frostedly translucent. Was that ME, doin that, staring at my reflection, fogging it up with my heavy breathing, trying to maintain my balance and trying to negotiate such a closed space? Yes, yes it was. Fifteen minutes later I casually pulled my pride back on, as well as my Calvins, and we walked out of the stall, wiping our noses and pretending we were just snorting coke. Yeah. JUST snorting coke. I guess drug abuse is the lesser of two evils.

We stay for a while longer at the club, then head back to his place, and continued our mini-marathon till about 11AM, and about 6 climaxes each later, at which point we collapse from exhaustion, both having worked overnight at our respective jobs even before all this craziness went down.

As memorable as the experience was, I had come to the conclusion that I will not be dealing with Javier ever again. And not just him. Just anybody that just doesn't CUT it. I compromised too much, these last three years, and everything came to a head with the last one, forcing me to resolve or implode. I don't even have any hate or anger for any of them right now. Shit, I definitely ain't got love for 'em either. I wish nothing for them, good or ill. And the same goes for any future guys that I may find attractive but JUST AREN'T FOR ME. I just don't feel like playing along and trying to coax out whatever good or compatible or resonant THING i hope might be there, all just for the sake of a cute face.

Give me about 24 hours to contradict myself. But one thing i'm gonna hold myself to, is just letting go of these here...

goodbye Javier.
goodbye Michael.
goodbye Tim.
goodbye Coby.
goodbye adam4adam.
goodbye manhunt
goodbye men4now
goodbye compromise.