The boy kicked out at the world…

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Dating Dilemmas or, The Mostly Unfabulous Social Life of Skylar Baker-Jordan

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If you read my feature in the current issue of Rise Over Run, you’ll know that dating isn’t my forte.  In fact, for me, dating is an utter disaster.  I used to think, like Ethan Green, it was my own damn fault.  But the older I get, the more I realize the problem isn’t with me, but with the guys I have to choose from.

After Leo and I broke up–for good–last December, I took a solid eight months off dating.  My 2009 new year’s resolution was to remain celibate for a year, but eventually I once again felt up to the challenge of dating.  Two months later, I’m beginning to regret this.

It started, oddly enough, with Twitter.  Over the summer, I became twitterpated with a bloke I was tweeting back and forth with.  I have never met him in person, but he still managed to enchant me.  I realized that if a guy could win me over in 140 characters or less, there was probably a guy outside of cyberspace that could truly sweep me off my feet.

I went on my first date since the breakup in August, and it went well.  We met online, which if you read Where the Wild Queens Are you’ll know is the only way for gay guys to meet one another in Bowling Green.  He was a skateboarder, and he was sexy: thick, chestnut hair; lean, toned body; piercing turquoise eyes.  He was sweet, too.  He complimented my smile, my curves, and my confidence.  I was smitten, and perhaps because of nearly a year’s worth of pent-up sexual energy, I went to bed with him.  Afterward, as I was reeling from the release, he jumped up and began hurriedly searching for his shorts.  I sat up, a little confused, wondering where the fire is.

Turns out, it was being kept lit by a little Mrs. at home.  Skater Boy had a skater girl waiting for him at his–actually, her–apartment.  He told me she was asleep on her couch, where she had dozed off before he left.  She would be awake soon, he said, and she would want her car back.   That’s right–Skater Boy left his sleeping girlfriend on her sofa, took her car, and cheated on her.  With me.

I’d love to say that was the worst of it, but we’ve only just gotten started.  The next date I had was with this young professional who had recently moved to town.  We met for a drink and then went back to his place, which he insisted would be innocent because he wanted a relationship, not a one-night stand.  We’d been talking on Manhunt for days (which, in hindsight, should have been my first clue), and he seemed nice enough.  Tall, thin, and geeky in a preppy, business major fraternity boy sort of way, he had a sexy uncertainty about everything he did.  Adopted by Baptist parents from a Korean orphanage, he is a devout Christian.  That didn’t stop Bible Boy from letting me in on his nipple fetish before trying to get in my pants.

He didn’t, though, and after an evening of cuddling and innocent kisses, I went home.  He promised to call me the next day after church, and I thought I’d found a guy with potential.  I actually missed his call, so he left a voicemail.  I was excited to hear from him, but as I listened to his stuttering, nervous voice, I knew this was a message I’d rather have deleted.   He rambled on and on about how church had made him realize that this wasn’t what Jesus wanted for his life and how this was not right.  “It’s not you, it’s God” is was the gist of the message, which I had to play to my roommates to make sure I’d heard correctly.  They confirmed it: I had been dumped for Jesus.  How the hell was I expected to compete with heaven?

Despite these early setbacks, I decided to continue trying to find Prince Charming.   I’ve been out on several first dates since then, and they’ve all been disasters.  The problem is, the guys I end up dating all have debilitating neuroses, most of them are closet cases, and the ones who have potential already have boyfriends.  Therefore, I’m stuck dating boys like Hipster Boy.  I met him online, too, and because he was “bored,” we decided to “hang out.”

He pulled up outside of my house on a yellow motorcycle, his face obscured behind the oversized helmet.  I’d never before thought of motorcycles as sexy–they’ve always reminded me of my father, who is an avid biker–but with Hipster Boy driving, I really wanted to take a ride with him.  Little did I know that by the end of the night I’d get my chance.

Thanks to Hipster Boy, I soon found out that “bored” is gay talk for “horny” and “hang out” is meant in a very literal sense.    But I’m a good sport, so I went along with him.  He was cute, a little scrawny but with a nice arms–I imagine from biking–and a devilish smile.   I’d be a liar if I said I didn’t enjoy myself.  He enjoyed himself, too, judging from the third and fourth round and the promise to call me soon.  A couple weeks passed and I hadn’t heard from him.  He finally sent me a text last weekend, while I was in DC for the National Equality March.  “Sup?” is all it read.

Now here’s a bit of irony for you.  I met a very nice boy in DC.  He is adorable, and his personality is golden.  A sarcastic, cynical asshole, we can trade witty insults and pithy comments without wincing.  He talked about liking skinny boys (which I definitely am not), plus he has a boyfriend, so I never really gave the possibility of dating him a second thought.  I figured I’d flirt with him while we were there and that would be the end of it.

Which it would have been, except my lesbian buddy and fruit fly both picked up on the fact that I was shamelessly flirting.  As you can imagine, they haven’t let me live it down since we returned home.  Always subtle, they still  manage to make it clear that they know I fancied this lad without actually saying it.

So for the last week I’ve been pretty dour thanks to the repeated references to Beltway Boy and knowing that, though I’ve finally met a decent guy, he already found his happily ever after.  By tonight, home alone for the first time in weeks, I was feeling downright lonely.  Needing a confidence boost, I decided to text Hipster Boy.  This, it turns out, was a mistake.  His response?

“What’s up dude.  Sorry Im just getting back 2 u.  I’m dating a girl now.  So I wont be able 2 c u.” [sic]

Okay, so Hipster Boy now has a hipstress.  Damn.  Feeling even crappier than I had half an hour before, I turned to my old friends Dorothy, Blanche, Rose, and Sophia to make me laugh.  As I sipped on a Diet Pepsi, petting my roommate’s arthritic cat and living vicariously through a group of middle-aged women from circa 1986, I realized how utterly pitiful my life is.

So of course, God said “ha” and decided to make the scene all the more pathetic.  My phone vibrated, and I immediately hoped that Hipster Boy felt a change of heart and decided to come play with me instead of hanging out with his girlfriend.  Or even better, Beltway Boy had decided he wanted to hang out.  Nope, and nope.  Instead, Bible Boy texted me, from church, asking what I’m doing.  Going back and forth for a while, I finally tell him I want to see him again, not just receive suggestive text messages that he can get off to guilt free.  His response?

“Seeing u wouldn’t be the problem–ur right, guilt would be.  I have grown up believing that I shouldn’t but I haven’t always done so.  :(“ [sic]

He says God’s plan is bigger than anything we mere mortals can possibly understand.  I say goodnight.

As if things weren’t depressing enough, I decided to go a step further: I texted Liam asking him to “ring me.”  (For those of you who don’t remember, Liam is the really awesome guy I met in London in 2007.  If it weren’t for the damned Atlantic Ocean–and Liam’s aversion to honesty–we’d probably still be together.)  By this point it’s about 3:30 am in England, and it was obvious Liam had been out on another bender the moment I answer his call.   I told him everything, and he proceeded to give me a much-needed pep talk, albeit through a groggy haze of delirium and alcohol.

The abridged version goes something like this: “You’re fierce, you’re fit, you’ve got an amazing accent and sexy broken smile and you’re the best writer I know.  You are, by far, the most charming American that has ever lived.  So stop your whinging.  Or get yourself to Britain where the men appreciate you.  Either way shut the bloody hell up and stop dating wankers.  Have a good night.  Goodbye.”  Even though he was clearly annoyed with the fact that I woke him from his liquor-induced coma, I sensed the sincerity behind his words.  It was just what I needed.

Still, I wasn’t in a state to sit home by myself, so I took myself for a walk.  On that walk, I thought of the boys who’ve meant the most to me.  The ones who made me into the man–and the basket case–you know and love.   I thought of the abuse I suffered with Benji, the loss I suffered when Brandon passed away, the puppy love I shared with high school sweetheart Ryan and the sheer sexual chemistry I had with Brighton.  And then I thought of Leo.  And Liam.  And the men I’m guilty of doing wrong, like Quint and Daniel, whom I still imagine wonder where the hell I disappeared to when things seemed to be going so well.  I began to wonder whether all the hurt and hurting was worth it.

But then I thought of Beltway Boy and his boyfriend.  And oddly enough, I smiled.  Sure, Beltway Boy isn’t my boyfriend, and probably never will be.  But he is somebody’s boyfriend, proving that good guys are out there and that, sometimes, regular guys like me are lucky enough to find one.  If Beltway Boy’s boyfriend can find a guy as good as Beltway Boy, surely I can find one, too.

Then I thought of the guy from Twitter, and I smiled even brighter.  Though he’s thousands of miles away, he is single, proving that there are great single guys left to choose from.

It’s just a matter of finding the one for you.

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Written by skylarjordan

October 17, 2009 at 9:00 am

3 Responses

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  1. wow: have a great information about You. when i read it i feel much pleasure…

    matgirls

    October 17, 2009 at 10:12 am

  2. here, here… indeed… how you have not been snapped up yet, is beyoooooond me! ❤ x

    Joe

    October 27, 2009 at 2:31 am

  3. oh & also, you are SO sweet! 😀 *hugs* x

    Joe

    October 27, 2009 at 2:32 am


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