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To Be or Not to Be...Pissed

Jason Rimbaud


Yesterday, Mark and I met for coffee an hour before work. I guess he knew I was still pissed and in his usual stubborn refusal to ignore things like normal males, he confronted me.

How is it that this little boy can have so much power over me? He's not that hot, more of a nerd really, just your average type "Joe". His haircut is nonexistent, I think his mother puts a bowl on his head and snips away. His taste in clothes is typical of every stoner in the world, jeans and t-shirts with skater hoodies.

And...he's a drug addict. Though I must admit that pot is pretty harmless. But fuck, I don't think I ever saw him completely sober. But "just" pot or not, he still is an addict. And I don't think I need an addict in my life, one is enough thank you.

Can you believe it's been five months without cocaine? I think out of everything I've ever accomplished, I am most proud of that. Five months completely off cocaine and pills. And I can't remember that last time I was drunk. God I'm getting boring.

Forget about the drugs, let's focus instead on Mark's girlfriend.

Did you know that after four months, they still haven't had sex yet? Apparently, and boy did I wish he would've kept this bit of information private, there's been a handful of blowjobs and some finger work, that's it.

Should I be happy about this? Because as he told me this earlier today, he was fully expecting me to jump up and down with joy at this admission.

Yeah, you haven't fucked her yet, you don't know if you will fuck her in the future, you come scratching at my door every day to shag like bunnies, but in the end, you still have her. Answer me that fucking question. You wanted to talk, let's discuss this topic.

There's something about his eyes, it's hard to keep my thoughts in order when I stare into his eyes. And the one thing I really like is his constant eye contact. I find myself forgetting my argument while peering into his chocolate eyes.

And a few weeks ago I found out I was allergic to chocolate. Why can't I learn my lesson?

Fuck Mark.

Unfortunately he never answered my questions at the coffee shop. Our co-worker saw Mark's car and came inside to join us for a cup of coffee. Boy was that awkward, here we were in the middle of a fight about our....whatever it is...and suddenly we have to act all nice and status quo. And I hate that. I've been through to much shit in my life because of my sexuality...I'm not up for hiding, or keeping secrets about something I am not ashamed to be.

We worked, estranged and uncomfortable. So out of sorts, a few of the other servers commented on our lack of "affection". How do you answer that? Oh sorry, can't be all fluffy giggles with Mark, I'm mad because though he's fucking me and not her, she gets the prime time with him. You know the time slot that involves public appearances mixed with family time.

Something I really like about Mark, he is extremely family orientated. Something I believe keeps him silent about me and firmly with "HER", his family might not be accepting. Which is something I doubt considering the closeness they share. I'm sure his mother would love him the same. I think all the problems reside inside Mark's fear of being labeled a "gay".

Later that night, I finish first. I get my tip money and bolt out the back door without saying goodbye. Mainly because throughout the shift, I had convinced myself that, though fun, continuing with Mark was self-destructive and maybe a threat to my sobriety. I had decided to cut my losses.

I wasn't a block away from my hip upscale restaurant when my phone started ringing. Without looking, I knew who it was. We hadn't finished our "fight" at the coffee shop and Mark couldn't let it go. I threw my phone in the back seat and turned the radio up.

By the time I got home, he had called four times. I left the phone in the car.

Once inside my apartment, I headed to the fridge and grabbed the Orange Vodka and OJ and made myself a cocktail. When my doorbell rang two hours later, I had three cocktails. Not enough to be drunk, but just happy enough to answer the door. On my way to the door, I told myself that I would fuck him one more time, and send him on his way like a worn out trick. I was going to treat him like I would any other one nighter. I wasn't even going to kiss him.

I opened the door, shirtless and smiling with a drink in my hand. He didn't say a word, he grabbed my head and kissed me. It was like nothing else...I can't describe it...I won't...this is for me, something I won't share.

A few minutes later, we had somehow made it the couch, and somewhere in between he has lost his shirt. It was so intense, I didn't even tell him to take off his shoes. He was right there, next to me, staring into my eyes.

"Why didn't you answer the phone?"

I didn't want to talk to you, I'm still mad.

He smiles...fucker...I look into his eyes...he speaks, "I was wondering if you'd like to come to my house for dinner."

Did I tell you, since he's still in college, he lives at home? Um, did I tell you that I haven't been to his house...yet?

Why? I know, but it hasn't sunk in yet.

"I want you to meet my mom and my sister."

I met them, remember they came into the restaurant.

He shakes his head, and playfully smacks mine. "I really like you."

Remember, I'm a bit happy(read drunk).

Okay, I'll tell the truth, it wasn't three cocktails, more like six. I was a bit drunk by this point.

"I really like you."

Prove it.

That was me, my challenge to him. I was still pissed. He's fucking me and playing with her. Nobody wins...nobody.

For the first time, he looks away, takes a deep breath, and almost whispers, "It's over."

I'm crushed, because though I don't want him to know it, I really, really, really like him. And since I don't want to know how much he hurt me, I say, It's for the best.

He looks at me, sees my face and for a moment he looks confused. This his face lights up and he starts to giggle. He grabs my face and kisses me again. ( it's none of your business) "No, silly fag. I broke up with her tonight."

We didn't talk much after that. We messed up the covers on my bed and had one fantastic shower a bit later on. Much of the evening is a bit blurry. He's still not ready to admit/come out, he doesn't want anyone to know about us.

But god damn, she's gone, out of the picture, flushed away.

I don't know what the future will hold. There is a lot of obstacles and a hesitation on my part to try this. He's so much younger than me, so much he hasn't experienced yet. But fuck, the world is such a better place when he's lying next to me. He brings a calm, a willingness to try. To be something like human.


PS: I'm sorry about the errors and spelling issues with this piece. When I first started writing it, I was a bit pissed, slightly drunk and by the time I finished writing it, now it's after five am, I'm happy and quite exhausted. And I won't go back and re write it like I would normally.


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Hey, it's your blog, and you can mistype as much as you want. I am so fucking happy for you that I could burst. Mark obviously cares for you a lot, like a WHOLE LOT, and is in the process of reordering his whole life, based around wanting YOU in it. The distress you felt was when it seemed he was uninterested, or unable, to make changes to let you get closer. He is now doing that, and I am very happy for you both. The minor detail of him coming out to his family will just happen. Hell, when you meet the parents and family in their home, I'm fully convinced he'll have 'accidental' slips to push the situation so it will have to come out. God knows, but maybe the reason he's using pot is the same reason you used drugs, to alleviate the pain. Once the fear and pain are gone, who knows what can happen. All I can say though, is don't YOU go throwing in obstacles when he's working as hard and as quickly as he can to get together with you.

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OMFG. OMFGG. (oh my fucking gay god)GAH. TMTH. (too much to handle)But seriously, that's amazing! *roars*I'm so shocked. So shocked and happy for you!:DMaddy (:

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There's so much I'd like to say here, but it would all come across as negative just when you want to feel positive. And I wouldn't mean it to be negative, just informative. So the best thing I can do is simply smile and say well done.Except I can't. I have to say one thing. I have to. I can't stop myself.Neither one of you will know the other, and the relationship does'nt have a snowball's chance in hell, until to both take the huge risk of getting to know each other entirely sober. Both of you, at the same time.Do you think either one of you would be able to risk it?Okay, I'll butt out now.C

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Cole, please...never feel that I would take offense by anything you say. And trust me, I know that bit about knowing each other sober, it's one of the things that causes doubt. And yet...fuck me I'm happy. Today, we had a catering event, and Mark went to the private party while I stayed and worked in the restaurant. About half way through the night, he sent me a text message, and though it was a single word, it brought this stupid grin to my face. So much so, that one of my coworkers noticed the dopey look on my face as I read the text. She asked, "Who is it, your boyfriend?I replied, "I sure hope so."She gave me a hug and we both went back to work. But for the rest of the night, I couldn't help but smile. And the funny thing, my tips were actually higher than normal. J

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I couldn't help but smile. And the funny thing, my tips were actually higher than normal.
This surprises you? Happy people make people happy. (Oh, I can't believe I just said that.)
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I'm still tyring to get used to a happy Jason. I've never seen this side before.I'm so pleased, guy. However long it lasts, which I hope is forever, you do have this feeling to remember.Go slowly. I think he's going to need a whole lot of support.C

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Hey, Jason. You know the picture of you in the beanie? How about one with a huge grin. 'Cause you deserve one, I think.I don't think Des was clear enough: We are all really, really ECSTATIC for you Jason! :wav:

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