09-04-2007, 10:18 PM
Manchester Pride is about celebrating gayness, celebrating what it is to be a gay man or woman in the 21st Century, but the weekend showed me why it’s not great to be a gay man in the 21st Century, I say the weekend...Sometimes, the things you just don’t expect to happen, happen! That’s the trick of life, it’s like someone is playing with our minds for their own amusement, but most of the time, it’s far from funny, because when you’re in love with someone, your mind doesn’t work in the way it should.
If you’re in love with someone, and they kiss you, and you know it’s wrong; it feels right. It feels right even though he has a boyfriend. It feels right even though he has no interest in you past a purely sexually driven interest, and it feels right, because it feels like he’s yours. Just for that millisecond, he’s yours. And he is.
Reason leaves you, and you ask yourself all sorts of questions that you just don’t know how to answer. Why is he doing this to you? How could you let it happen? We’re unable to make proper judgements, it’s almost as if common sense is drained from the body.
Then comes the sex, be it full on penetration or a bit of a fumble. You wake up in the morning and the room smells of regret. You want him to turn over, kiss your neck and tell you how good it feels to be with you. You don’t want him to ignore the fact that it happened; that’s the worst thing he does. It makes you feel used.
The common sense refills your body slowly. The feet you used to play footsie with. The legs you rubbed against his last night. The hands you used to play with him. The chest you held tight against him. The lips you used to kiss him and the brain you use to think about him.
It all makes complete sense now. He’d fallen out with the boyfriend. I knew this beforehand; but as the common sense drained from my body, so did the link between a lovers tiff, and an unrequited lovers kiss.
If you’re in love with someone, and they kiss you, and you know it’s wrong; it feels right. It feels right even though he has a boyfriend. It feels right even though he has no interest in you past a purely sexually driven interest, and it feels right, because it feels like he’s yours. Just for that millisecond, he’s yours. And he is.
Reason leaves you, and you ask yourself all sorts of questions that you just don’t know how to answer. Why is he doing this to you? How could you let it happen? We’re unable to make proper judgements, it’s almost as if common sense is drained from the body.
Then comes the sex, be it full on penetration or a bit of a fumble. You wake up in the morning and the room smells of regret. You want him to turn over, kiss your neck and tell you how good it feels to be with you. You don’t want him to ignore the fact that it happened; that’s the worst thing he does. It makes you feel used.
The common sense refills your body slowly. The feet you used to play footsie with. The legs you rubbed against his last night. The hands you used to play with him. The chest you held tight against him. The lips you used to kiss him and the brain you use to think about him.
It all makes complete sense now. He’d fallen out with the boyfriend. I knew this beforehand; but as the common sense drained from my body, so did the link between a lovers tiff, and an unrequited lovers kiss.