May. 31st, 2022 10:36 am
The bottom of the U-curve
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muckefuckWell, I'm back again which can pretty much only mean one thing. I'll try to follow this post up with one about all the truly positive things from IML Weekend, but I just need to process the stinky parts and this seems to be where I do that these days.
So the big dance party was Furball at the Metro. I was last there three years ago and I remember it being pretty amazing. It also struck me as something BB would enjoy, so before I ordered my ticket I suggested he get one too. He took a little bit of convincing, but I promised that we would "drink, dance, and have a good time" and so he agreed to come.
A couple hours before doors opened, I began to realise just what he had to overcome to do that. His therapist has been urging him to accept all the invitations he can in an effort to have him confront his social anxiety and this was kicking into high gear as he contemplated being surrounded with buff bodies at a monster event someplace he'd never been. So I did my best to reassure him while preparing myself, traveling to Metro, and then waiting in the hour-long queue outside. Fortunately I had company for that, as a guy I know and his best friend hopped into line right behind me.
BB showed up maybe five minutes before they starting letting people in. At my urging, he'd worn his harness under his t-shirt but he was worried he hadn't put it on properly. We eventually ended up going to the vestibule by the upper balcony exit doors so I could adjust it for him. For the first hour, he never left my side while I showed him around and introduced him to what friends I knew were there.
I was pleasantly surprised when he finally relaxed enough to remove his shirt. There was a moment in particular when we were standing at the base of the stairs with my pals from the queue. He was in front of me looking away and I contemplated for a moment draping my arms around him but I didn't want to make him uncomfortable so I held back. A short while later, I was standing on the other side of my pals from him, chatting, and I glanced over and realised he wasn't there. I just figured he'd gone to get another drink. Finally, after maybe 20-30 minutes I texted him and he replied "I'm getting laid! Hahah"
I want to say I was happy for him. I want to actually be happy for him. This was, after all, an expected outcome of this kind of event, a vindication of my efforts to get him to come. But in the moment I felt wretched. I know we weren't going as a couple but, I confess, on some level I was enjoying the fantasy that we were. I also realised that I'd somewhat unconsciously made the focus of my evening making sure that BB had a good time, so without him there, I was suddenly at something of a loss.
I wasn't really getting any play, so I reminded myself that what I'd enjoyed most about this events in the past was dancing with my friends so I started looking for friends to dance with. But the old crowd wasn't there and the new crowds were small and scattered. I bounced from one side of the main floor to the other trying to find them and when I did it was underwhelming. When I managed to locate someone in particular I knew--someone who I'd danced with there before, who had told me just two nights before he was looking forward to dancing with me at Furball--he ignored me. I just couldn't figure out what was going on and realised I didn't want to. I made one last desperate circuit (my pals who had been stationed at the bottom of the stairs for at least an hour were suddenly nowhere to be found) and decided to go.
As a saving grace, on my way out, I ran into an opera singer from New York who I know and like and caught up a bit. He was similarly unenamoured of the music and preparing to leave as well. I ran into him on the street maybe ten minutes later with his best buddy; they were heading to Touché and graciously offered me a ride. I won't say it turned my night around, because my night was effectively over at that point, but it at least arrested my downward emotional slide. At least someone was showing some concern for my well-being.
I literally cried myself to sleep. I lay in bed, played some sad music (drawing the line at "How Soon Is Now" though!), and felt myself tear up before I drifted off. It was fitful sleep. At quarter to 7, I glanced at my phone and saw that BB had finally responded to my request that he text me when he was safely home about half an hour before. (I confess that the first place my stupid mind went to was that when he hooked up with me, it was also around 2 a.m. and he left after three hours, not four.)
Without trying to be too nosy, I asked some questions and found out some basic details. He had only a first name and no picture, so I don't know if this is someone I know or not. I also don't know if that would matter. In any case, we left it that we would chat more later. (I thought we'd have that opportunity Monday, when we had tentative plans to go to the vendor mart together, but he ended up bagging.)
The whole rest of the morning I spent lying in bed trying to sleep and being foiled by my anxiety. It took me a while to sort out what the source of that was. Jealousy, yes (I always thought I'd be the one to fuck BB in that harness, ever since he first sent me a picture of him wearing it the day after we met), but also fear. Fear that he was being taken away from me, that this new guy would become a regular thing and instead of jumping at my invites BB would soon be begging off to spend time with him instead.
I'm well aware that none of this is a healthy reaction to a good thing happening to a friend. It's humiliating to realise I'm not as over him as I thought or want to be and I don't really have a good solution. I talked at length with a couple friends that day and the next and--though they had good advice--they didn't have any remedy for the way I feel now. Not only will BB never love me romantically, this is further evidence that he'll never give me all that I expect from a good friend. (He did at least ask "did you get lucky?" but that was all and there's been no follow-up since.) And at some point, I need to accept that and reduce my investment or I'm just going to grow resentful.
Honestly, sometimes I wonder if that isn't the solution. I think about how I overcame some of my bad crushes in the past and often it was the eventual realisation that I was making someone a priority who had no intention of prioritising me and I deserved better. But this is a worse crush than those were and I'm kind of afraid of the level of anger it might take to reach that point. I honestly don't know where things go from here, but I know I need to step back and see what he's willing to do while I work on shifting my focus to all the better friends I've been neglecting for too long.
So the big dance party was Furball at the Metro. I was last there three years ago and I remember it being pretty amazing. It also struck me as something BB would enjoy, so before I ordered my ticket I suggested he get one too. He took a little bit of convincing, but I promised that we would "drink, dance, and have a good time" and so he agreed to come.
A couple hours before doors opened, I began to realise just what he had to overcome to do that. His therapist has been urging him to accept all the invitations he can in an effort to have him confront his social anxiety and this was kicking into high gear as he contemplated being surrounded with buff bodies at a monster event someplace he'd never been. So I did my best to reassure him while preparing myself, traveling to Metro, and then waiting in the hour-long queue outside. Fortunately I had company for that, as a guy I know and his best friend hopped into line right behind me.
BB showed up maybe five minutes before they starting letting people in. At my urging, he'd worn his harness under his t-shirt but he was worried he hadn't put it on properly. We eventually ended up going to the vestibule by the upper balcony exit doors so I could adjust it for him. For the first hour, he never left my side while I showed him around and introduced him to what friends I knew were there.
I was pleasantly surprised when he finally relaxed enough to remove his shirt. There was a moment in particular when we were standing at the base of the stairs with my pals from the queue. He was in front of me looking away and I contemplated for a moment draping my arms around him but I didn't want to make him uncomfortable so I held back. A short while later, I was standing on the other side of my pals from him, chatting, and I glanced over and realised he wasn't there. I just figured he'd gone to get another drink. Finally, after maybe 20-30 minutes I texted him and he replied "I'm getting laid! Hahah"
I want to say I was happy for him. I want to actually be happy for him. This was, after all, an expected outcome of this kind of event, a vindication of my efforts to get him to come. But in the moment I felt wretched. I know we weren't going as a couple but, I confess, on some level I was enjoying the fantasy that we were. I also realised that I'd somewhat unconsciously made the focus of my evening making sure that BB had a good time, so without him there, I was suddenly at something of a loss.
I wasn't really getting any play, so I reminded myself that what I'd enjoyed most about this events in the past was dancing with my friends so I started looking for friends to dance with. But the old crowd wasn't there and the new crowds were small and scattered. I bounced from one side of the main floor to the other trying to find them and when I did it was underwhelming. When I managed to locate someone in particular I knew--someone who I'd danced with there before, who had told me just two nights before he was looking forward to dancing with me at Furball--he ignored me. I just couldn't figure out what was going on and realised I didn't want to. I made one last desperate circuit (my pals who had been stationed at the bottom of the stairs for at least an hour were suddenly nowhere to be found) and decided to go.
As a saving grace, on my way out, I ran into an opera singer from New York who I know and like and caught up a bit. He was similarly unenamoured of the music and preparing to leave as well. I ran into him on the street maybe ten minutes later with his best buddy; they were heading to Touché and graciously offered me a ride. I won't say it turned my night around, because my night was effectively over at that point, but it at least arrested my downward emotional slide. At least someone was showing some concern for my well-being.
I literally cried myself to sleep. I lay in bed, played some sad music (drawing the line at "How Soon Is Now" though!), and felt myself tear up before I drifted off. It was fitful sleep. At quarter to 7, I glanced at my phone and saw that BB had finally responded to my request that he text me when he was safely home about half an hour before. (I confess that the first place my stupid mind went to was that when he hooked up with me, it was also around 2 a.m. and he left after three hours, not four.)
Without trying to be too nosy, I asked some questions and found out some basic details. He had only a first name and no picture, so I don't know if this is someone I know or not. I also don't know if that would matter. In any case, we left it that we would chat more later. (I thought we'd have that opportunity Monday, when we had tentative plans to go to the vendor mart together, but he ended up bagging.)
The whole rest of the morning I spent lying in bed trying to sleep and being foiled by my anxiety. It took me a while to sort out what the source of that was. Jealousy, yes (I always thought I'd be the one to fuck BB in that harness, ever since he first sent me a picture of him wearing it the day after we met), but also fear. Fear that he was being taken away from me, that this new guy would become a regular thing and instead of jumping at my invites BB would soon be begging off to spend time with him instead.
I'm well aware that none of this is a healthy reaction to a good thing happening to a friend. It's humiliating to realise I'm not as over him as I thought or want to be and I don't really have a good solution. I talked at length with a couple friends that day and the next and--though they had good advice--they didn't have any remedy for the way I feel now. Not only will BB never love me romantically, this is further evidence that he'll never give me all that I expect from a good friend. (He did at least ask "did you get lucky?" but that was all and there's been no follow-up since.) And at some point, I need to accept that and reduce my investment or I'm just going to grow resentful.
Honestly, sometimes I wonder if that isn't the solution. I think about how I overcame some of my bad crushes in the past and often it was the eventual realisation that I was making someone a priority who had no intention of prioritising me and I deserved better. But this is a worse crush than those were and I'm kind of afraid of the level of anger it might take to reach that point. I honestly don't know where things go from here, but I know I need to step back and see what he's willing to do while I work on shifting my focus to all the better friends I've been neglecting for too long.