Je ne veux qu'un gay confidant: Part II

ATTN: This is part 2 of an epic drama series. If you haven't already read: Je ne veux qu'un gay confidant: Part I please do so before proceeding. Note** this used to all be one long, wordy entry, but it is easier to chew as 2 distinct ones. Enjoy.

So I will pick up the story back in the US right after college graduation....

I was living at home for a month or so before picking up and moving to Washington DC for my new job. One night Matt and I went out to a bar and ended up getting really drunk, just the two of us. 

Upon coming home, we decided to go for a walk to the beach. The beach at my parents’ house is very beautiful and rocky and when it’s low tide you can go out to some of the larger rocks that would otherwise be submerged. So we drunkenly stumbled to a rock that had a crevice where you could sit comfortably and since it’s oriented towards the ocean, no one can see you from land.

I love this rock. I grew up on this rock, smoked weed on it, got drunk on it, studied for school on it, got hand jobs from girls on it… I was young…it’s pretty much my childhood in rock form.

This is what he was experiencing but...

Anyway, I have no memory of what we were doing or what we were talking about but out of nowhere Matt aggressively started to kiss me. We were making out hard. I was drunk obviously but was forced into sobriety because this was NOT what I wanted nor was it something I was expecting. I panicked but instead of pulling away I allowed it. The following thoughts were frantically racing through my head… verbatim mind you,

“Whaaaaat the fuuuuuck?!”
“Fucker Fuck balls! Fuckity fuckity fuck!?”
“Should I stop?”
“No, that would make him sad! He might crumble!”
“Should I stop and then laugh and then say, ‘Ohh weird!’ And then run away?”
“No. Hmmm, what would Matt do?”
“Oh he would keep kissing because he would be liking this… he would get a boner!”
“Shit, does he have a boner?”
“Should I be getting a boner?”
“No! Don’t get a boner! Good, I’m not! Good, right? What a relief! Wait… is it!?”

Next thing I knew… I was still kissing him.

“Dammit, it’s too late to stop now!”

Then I guess he stopped? Or maybe I stopped? I don’t remember but I wasn’t happy and it doesn’t get better. 

...this is what I was experiencing.

We walked back to my house and proceeded to hook up in my bedroom, next to my parents’ room mind you. I hated it.

I bet Matt thinks I’m really bad in bed--like a wet blanket. A passionless wet blanket.

Basically, to spare everyone from the boring back and forth details of what happened next I will summarize it. Basically I moved to DC and I think Matt was expecting me to be his “something more”. When I would come back home he would try to hook up with me, when he visited me in DC he would try to hook up with me and I had to literally nut up and be like, “Matthew, we're much too good of friends, I'm barely out [at this point he had been out for like 5 years] and we're just not in the same place in our gay-hood. I don’t want this and I don’t want you to want this… do you understand?"

He said he did but definitely did not. Proof being…the following day, I woke up and he was trying to blow me. I was like, “Huh, what is this amazing feeling I am waking up to? Oh Hi, get your face off my dick!”

“Matthew, OFF!”

Anyway this back and forth happened a lot and it really made me look like the bad guy because I was always telling him NO! But sometimes it got so awkward and uncomfortable I would just give in—which is horrible! I am a wet blanket.

He ended up moving down to DC for graduate school a year after I did (to this day, I pray it wasn't because of me).

Anyway, a few months before he moved down here I started to see this other guy on the regular, let’s call him Sean. First love of my gay life for sure. I am still head over heals… read those chronicles here.

Anyway, this looks terrible and makes me sound like a fucking drug head but I swear I am a smart, respectable, responsible, charming young man with a bright future and a very successful past! I swear! But one night Matt was over and we were hanging out with my roommate drinking a lot. We, for some reason, started snorting vicodin off my dining room table (which is very out of character for all of us, that roommate is now getting his PhD from Columbia but sometimes we do weird shit).

So Sean is very sweet and caring and a little older than me so to him, snorting vicodin literally sounds like insane person behavior (not that I’m justifying it). I had been texting Sean a lot that evening and Matt was obviously very very aware of it.

*Text sound*

Matt cringes.

*Text sound*

Matt’s eyes start to twitch.

*Text sound*

Matt starts to groan. Does a line of vicodin.

*Text sound*

“Who the hell keeps texting you!?!?”

“Oh, no one… not important.” I do a line of vidodin.

*Text sound*

Under the table, I text Sean, “I just snorted vicodin.”

*Text sound*

“WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU TEXTING?! STOP TEXTING IT’S RUDE AND YOU’RE A DICK HEAD”

“Ok, yeah you’re right, I’m sorry I’ll stop.”

*Text sound*

I ignore.

*Text sound*

I ignore and Matt’s face is growing red.

*Ignored text sound*

*Ignored text sound*

*Ignored text sound*
*Ignored text sound*

Sean is freaking out because the last text I sent was, “I just snorted vicodin.” And then I stopped responding in fear of Matt’s outward rage. So now Sean is at home panicking.

So he calls. I need to answer it. I look at my phone, I look at Matt glaring, I look back at my phone and answer it while still looking at Matt’s face as if I am expecting him to whip out a crossbow and shoot me in the chest.

I then (oh-so-not-casually) walk off into my bedroom to explain to Sean what was happening and that I wasn’t overdosing on drugs. Also keep in mind, I think I’m portraying the situation much too coherently because we were all wasted (except Sean) so it was probably much more slurred and messy.

Obviously, Matt followed me to my room and was listening outside. Meanwhile my poor roommate was probably thinking, “What the fuck is going on?… Why is Matt so concerned with this whole matter?… What is going on? This is not healthy. Who are my friends?”

So when I got off the phone, Matt came bursting in my room forcing me to explain myself. I guess I was pretty much caught. Notice how I use the word “caught”? That is what our relationship had become. It started off so fun and innocent and easy and healthy but it had turned into secrets and lies and me being in a situation where I was being “caught”. Matt was supposed to be my gay confidant: my best friend. It wasn’t what I wanted.

Anyway, I told him everything about Sean and he was heart broken but he was a champ and did his best to set it aside and still be my friend. We continued to hang out but slowly things started to feel tainted. Our friendship turned sour because he was constantly angry that Sean existed and that I didn't love him. I had to be very careful about receiving texts and making sure my phone was on silent in case Sean called. Matt knew Sean was in my life but to help keep his sanity, I just never mentioned him. It was definitely hard and took a toll on us.  We pretended like things were fine and that our platonic relationship was still platonic but he couldn’t hide that he wanted more.

My attempts to pretend like everything was normal came across as "dismissive" or "distant" or "insensitive". Matt eventually quit on me cold turkey. Haven't talked to him in years at this point.

The story behind this is again complicated. Quick background information: Matt promised to help me move into a new apartment. Unfortunately the timing was pretty shitty so I was going to be homeless for a night, but Matt said he would be fine helping me pack up the U-haul on one day, and then waking up the next morning and helping me move into the new apartment the following day. I forget exactly how it went down, either he asked, or I offered this information, but in discussing the plan, I informed him that I would be taking my fish and staying with Sean for the night while I parked the u-haul safely on the street behind my old apartment… locked up like a billion times.

Upon learning that Sean was involved, Matt’s insides melted right before my eyes. It was super awkward but I didn’t know what else to do; I was desperate and could not do the move alone. Not to mention, Matt agreed months prior and nothing was news here. Matt knew Sean existed, he must’ve known he would be involved, but the fact that I mentioned his name just reminded him that Sean was a reality and that made him lose it—but not outwardly until the next day.

Matt called me at noon the day of the move and said, “Man, sorry but I just can’t help you move today!”

My stomach dropped but I stayed calm, “Ok, Matt, why not? You’re supposed to be at my house in an hour? What happened?”

He told me,  “I gotta work today, they called and asked me to come in.” (he meant they had an ASL interpreting gig for him).

I said, “OK, Matt, but you told me that was very unlikely and on the off-chance they offered a gig, you would say you were unavailable.”

He was getting pretty aggressive,  “Yeah well, you gotta work, and I gotta work so I’m taking the job.”

“Matt, fine, I’ll pay you what they’ll pay you, I just need help moving!”

Then it started to make sense, “Why don’t you just make Sean do it for you?”

I got it now. “Matthew, Sean works full time, I couldn’t ask him to take off work…”

“Ok, well now I have work so we’re in the same boat and he’s your boyfriend so you’re his problem, not mine.”

Ouch. But OK, fair enough.

Then he said, “Why should I lug all your shit around, then let you go off with your little boyfriend and have a sleepover, while I go off to my place, then come back the following day to help you unload all your shit while your boyfriend goes off to work!?!”

Yeesh. OK. Double ouch but fair enough.

“OK, Matt you’re right. You’re totally right, I will call Sean and we’ll sort this out.”

Then he lost it. He started bawling into the phone.

“I am so sorry but I think about you constantly. When I wake up, I think about you, when I'm in the shower, I think about you, when I am at work, I think about you... I should be focusing on myself and my career but instead I'm thinking about you!"

I was speechless.

Then finally I said, “OK, Matt, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry I

don’t know what to say! I don’t want to make you so upset.”

The fuck?

To be honest I don’t know how the conversation ended but I got off the phone and just sat in shock at my desk for a good 5 minutes, thinking how did this get like this? How is this the same friendship that started off so fun, so healthy, so exciting? It's now just based on lies, secrets, false hopes, and awkward hook ups. It was terrible.

Anyway, luckily Sean pulled through and was able to help me on the first night and Matt was able to set his feelings aside and help me on the second day.

So come that second move day, Matt showed up on time (which is very rare for him). He is always late for everything. Obviously it was a little uncomfortable at first given our conversation the previous day but after being in the u-haul for a good 10 min, we are both naturally inclined to get along and laugh so we made the best of what we both knew was a pressing, sort of heavy situation.

We finished moving in all my belongings and we returned the u-haul and he was driving me back to my new place in his car. 

Everything was fairly normal on the drive back, the tone had lightened and we were both in good spirits. I figured it was now just a confrontation behind us, so I was surprised with what came out next.

He said, "So... can you please just do me one favor?"

Of course I said, "Sure, anything, what’s up?"

He said, "Can you like… just please never call me again… Just don't try to contact me for a while."

So, without really knowing what to say, I said, "Ok." And nothing more.

Then he said, “I mean for  like… a very very long while.”

I said, “OK, yeah.”

Then silence.

Until he practically blurted out, "Well, FINE, that's all you have to say? That's it?!"

So I said, "Dude, who am I to say, 'NO! I am going to keep calling you! I won't stop talking to you', of course I’m going to agree if that’s what you want…"

The timing was pretty impeccable because we were essentially at my place. There wasn’t really enough time for awkward silences or any sort of argument after that. I just got out of the car calmly, said goodbye, and closed the door.

And that was it. We’re still not talking.

The only contact we’ve had since that day was a lone facebook message. Initially I thought it was pretty catty and immature but he un-friended me completely. I guess it’s what he needed and that’s ok. Despite no longer being his ‘friend’ he sent me a message right after Christmas, which was only 5 months later. It was strange and said I was the best friend he'd ever had, that friends like me are hard to come by, and that he'll never forget me.

But that was it.

Oh, and he attached a youtube video of “That’s What Friends Are For” performed live by Dionne Warwick, Stevie Wonder, and Whitney Houston.

Dionne & Friends

So weird.

I did respond to it, saying something nice, neutral. Said I was doing OK and when/if he was ready to be friends again. I would be here.

That was 2011. We're still not talking.