If a cow ever got the chance...

Well, the Mr. NY thing crashed and burned. The flippant version of events is that I picked him up from the greyhound and was trying to figure out how to tell him we shouldn't be fuck buddies anymore without hurting his feelings or regretting it later, but then when we got back to my apartment he was all over me like Oprah on a baked ham (Simpsons quote, I can't take credit), and I cannot pretend that this was not a turn-on, so I decided it would be OK to have farewell nookie (did not tell him that's what this was)... so then he spent the next 24 hours being totally sullen and pissy and barely speaking to me except to solicit more farewell nookie, and when I

finally confronted him about this he said "I no longer feel comfortable sharing the sexual aspect of my life with you" (which hadn't stopped him like 2 hours before that). Apparently he thought I was acting too much like a girlfriend because I tried to put my arm around him at the movie theater, and while he quote is attracted to me in many ways he just doesn't see me that way end quote.

The non-flippant version is that it hurt my feelings. I didn't want him to be my boyfriend; I already have one and I like him real good (and there continues to be nothing in this diary he doesn't know about). It felt like he was ashamed to be seen with me in public, which hurt. So I lost it, and spent the second day of his visit inflicting his behavior on him in amplified reverse--sullen, inexplicable crying fits, refusing to hug him, etc etc. Which is why I think we'll never speak again. I feel bad about it. Maybe, as the more experienced partner, as the pseudo sexual surrogate (which I always knew I was in this), it was incumbent on me to tell him, gently, that you can't treat people that way, rather than demonstrating the consequences through my behavior. Yeah, I was mad. But that isn't really an excuse.

Ideally one's fuck buddy should understand all of this without either of you having to spell it out, but I am slowly realizing that this never happens in the real world. It's always better to err on the side of too much communication. Make sure that they understand that you understand. Better, don't get involved in these dumb-ass things in the first place. End of sermon.

JME is returning tomorrow from two weeks hosteling in Europe, so this should provide ample amounts of lesbian content for those of you skimming along at home (hi there). No, actually I like her too much to repeat any part of this weekend's performance. She wouldn't be interested anyway--she's into hot chicks like Angelina Jolie and the girls of Baywatch... L and I bought her the Gia DVD, which was marked down to 6.99, and there are Vogue clippings placed strategically under the pillow for her to find when she comes back. Maybe at heart we really are twelve-year-old boys.

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