Happy Mardi Gras-Versary


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Happy Mardi Gras Anniversary! For those that do not know Mardis Gras is a gay pride parade held every year in Oxford Street in Sydney. The last couple of years the parade has come under scrutiny for promoting sex and promiscuous lifestyle over actual gay rights. While these arguments do hold some merit, there are a couple of floats of perfect ab, slim, toned barely dressed boys waving feather boas and donning leather caps, it is not all about this.

I was fortunate enough to march in a marriage equality float a couple of years ago and you may recall my blogpost about this. It was the most invigorating and brave thing I have ever done and I will never forget it as long as I live. I do want to do it again I just need a few years to pluck up that courage again!

That being said here is the reason I am writing today, 35 years ago today, around 10pm on Saturday 24 June 1978, several hundred gays, lesbians and straight supporters – some in fancy dress and some simply rugged up against the cold – gathered at Taylor Square and followed a truck with a small music and sound system down Oxford Street to Hyde Park.

Little did those witnessing and partaking in the march know, this was to be the start of Mardi Gras, and would become a defining moment in the country’s gay rights history.

Today, 35 years later, we honour the bravery and passion of our pioneers, as we continue the journey which they began. Back at the time of the march it was all about equal rights for homosexuals, something that a lot of young people today take too much for granted.

Looking at our society now, we are fighting for equal marriage rights in this country, something that with our current prime minister seems like it will be a long time off. Is it something that we can simply request and it happens? No

It is something that we can write letters, campaigns, build our community and march for? Hell yes we can! It baffles me completely why more is not being done to further the cause. So far the only thing close to resembling this is the Rainbow Crossing movement, and I don’t think I have to explain my feelings about that fiasco.

We are living in one of the most privilged and bountiful countries on the planet and it may seem a little selfish and egotistical to fight for equal marriage rights when comparing our problems to anyone else’s, but it does stand to reason that we should do more. As homosexuals we have become stereotyped by the media, forced to become comic relief rather than strong characters in society.

Before I keep drifting off topic here I wanted to pay homage to these trailblazers, these heroes who stood up so bravely in a society of hate and intolerance. We can never understand or fathom how hard this would have been. Being openly bashed and abused by the police, the very people who we are led to believe are there to protect us still baffles my brain and I thank them from the bottom of my heart for setting a shining example.

One of the most horrific stories is that of Peter Murphy who recently did an interview with news.com.au about what happened to him that very first parade.

““They took me along a long corridor in the police station through a U-shaped route into a room and then just beat the hell out of me,” Mr Murphy told NEWS.com.au as part of our 30th anniversary Mardi Gras special.

“There were two police officers who did that – one in particular – bashing me with their fists in the head and saying ‘you’re not so smart now are you’.”

Mr Murphy said he was beaten solidly until a blow to the solar plexus floored him. He was thrown into a solitary cell where he could hear protesters gathered outside chanting his name.

“They tried to break my leg but fortunately the bones didn’t snap,” he said. “I was (literally) pissing my pants.”

I have never experienced anything like this and hope to never have to. As the brave men marched down Oxford Street and reached Darlinghurst Road where a police blockade was waiting for them and arrested 53 and were charged for being in an illegal procession, hindering police and resisting arrest.

When I marched in Mardis Gras I was not feeling threatened by the police, in fact they actually helped me when I fell over to get me off the road (teach me to try and walk in heels!)

Thank you from the bottom of my heart to Mr Murphy and all the other brave pioneers who took a chance and walked Oxford Street with their heads held high, prepared to fight for what is right. Every year I try and reflect on this day what I can do to help my community and I hope that a post like this gets shared around for others to read and do the same. No matter where you are today, if you are reading this stop for a few minutes to thank these brave soldiers who will march on forever in our hearts.

Happy 35th Anniversary!

12 – I’m Leaving On A Jet Plane


It was a brand new year and I decided that it was going to be a brand new me to go with it.  We resumed our usual pattern of fight after fight after fight. It became an endless cycle of frustration and I wasn’t sure of how much more I could take. My mental state began diminishing and I sank into a deep depression, every night he was at work and I went to bed alone I felt like I would not wake up. He began sleeping on the couch more and more and I had resided to the fact that this was the end and there was nothing I could do to stop it.

After I had resided to the fact that this was finally it I called my mother who had moved back to Newcastle and announced that I would be moving back to Newcastle and would need somewhere to stay while I sorted myself out with a new job and life. After I hung up the phone I drafted my resignation to my work and emailed it through to my boss. There was no way I could get out of the two week notice period so all I had to do was keep my brave face on for two weeks and get through it. I could not tell anyone where I was going, just that I was resigning from work and only those who where not connected to CB where kept in the loop. We maintained our Saturday night honey bbq lamb chops with mashed potato while watching Most Haunted. I would act scared so he would hold me (a weird thing he actually loved, I guess it made him feel like a man?).

That week CB decided that a solution to leaving me at home alone would to get someone else in as a housemate for the spare room out the back, a small boxy room with no air-conditioning that was barely considered liveable. Regardless of this the guy was straight, had an odd skin condition that left the bathroom reeking of tar and was just downright weird. We tried to all live together but it was odd being stuck in the house with a stranger at night and one who was not entirely social. This just escalated the issues and didn’t help anything. Fortunately he started to get a life and went out some nights and I was left alone.  This gave me time to take inventory and make sure I knew where everything was while being careful not to move anything or make it look obvious that I was moving stuff around.

It was finally approaching, the day I was going to leave. I had everything planned, Kirsty would pick me up with another friend on Thursday night and we would pack their cars full of my stuff, I would stay at a work colleagues house on the Thursday and Friday night and get ready to fly home on the Saturday. CB didn’t know her or where she leaved so there was no chance he could find me. I was saying goodbye to everyone at work, got everything prepared to leave and never look back. It was what I had to do to survive, to pull myself out of this cycle and the only way I knew how to do it was to put distance between us.

The night was finally here, CB left for work as per usual and I as I said goodbye no feelings of love or regret where in my head. I was happy to be leaving and was so sure that he had no inkling that he would never see me again. Fortunately for me our new housemate had just got a job at a bar and was not at home either. I spent the next hour frantically packing everything I could possibly fit into my suitcases bequeathing the majority of my possessions to CB, I was just happy to be out of there.

Shortly after I had finished Kirsty arrived and we packed the cars full of whatever I could possibly fit. It was time, as I said my last goodbye to my beautiful Dior I wept uncontrollably. I wept for the friend she had been to me while Bull wasn’t there, for loving me unconditionally and always being there no matter what, for showing me what true love was. As I kissed her fur and hugged her as tightly as I could and said my final goodbye I turned around and walked out the front door, never to look back.

The day before I had bought a new phone number and upon leaving activated it and switched my old phone off. I got to my friends house and as we got everything out the car and readied ourselves to get some dinner and spend some time before I had to leave, we discussed what I was doing and if I felt any different now that I had actually left the house. After we had firmly established that this was it, we resumed our dinner and chatting about everything else, what I wanted to do when I got back to Newcastle, what I would do for work, when I would find another boyfriend and how I would move on.

That night as I lay down to go to sleep I had the urge to check my other phone, it was 1am,  he would have been home by now and realised that I wasn’t there anymore. I switched it on and messages started flooding through, no sms messages just voicemails. I dialled voicemail and was surprised to hear Cherry Jones voice asking where I was and how I was doing, knowing full well that Bull was there asking to be consoled was an absolute joke. He had been out of contact for a long time and thought Cherry knew of my plans but I had to not let her in on it to avoid this. I sms’ed Cherry and assured her I was ok and that I was moving back home. Cherry drives a hard bargain and convinced me to meet up with CB the next day after my last day of work, I had to decline as I had a big night out planned. I agreed to Saturday morning, I wasn’t due to fly out till the afternoon. I got through my last day of work slowly and painfully, convinced I would miss everyone terribly and after I said goodbye headed into town to have dinner with friends and then hit the Adelaide club scene for one last farewell.

The next day after I got up and re-packed all of my stuff to decide what I could actually take and what I would get my friends to send up to me later it was finally time for me to meet with CB. We met in the city and he picked me up as he couldn’t park the car. I got into the car and was attacked from behind as Dior struggled to clamber her way into the front seat and into my lap. The bastard brought the dog! As I fought off Dior’s eager tongue  and pushed her into the back seat my heart ached for my beautiful dog I knew I still had to go, my life and future would be at stake if I stayed.

We went to the beach and got some ice cream and went for a walk along the jetty with Dior in tow, talking about what my plans where and what was going to happen from here I still felt nothing and was happy to leave this all behind me (with the exception of Dior!). We walked back to the car and he dropped me back to my friends house. I went to get out the car with one huge hug to Dior, he asked if he could come to the airport later to say goodbye, to this I agreed. I knew it would be hard but it may give him closure and he could hopefully move on.

An emergency trip to the shops to buy some scales to weigh all my suitcases and calculate how much extra I would have to pay ($400 to be exact!) I finally passed through the gateway and into the departure lounge, Bull started crying hugging me so tight and whispering to me “Please don’t go, I love you so much” as he turned away and started walking I dropped to the ground. Sobbing uncontrollably I felt my heart saying “You stupid idiot! What are you doing? This mans loves you! You don’t just get on a plane and run away because you are having problems, newsflash! Everyone has problems! Start dealing with them!”

Kirsty rushed over to me and picked me up off the ground and helped me back over to my group of friends, all of whom where standing around with looks of support and strength. As I stood there listening to their chatter I drew on each of their individual strength to get me through the wait that seemed forever till I finally boarded the plane back to New South Wales.

The whole flight I was a blubbering mess, from the moment the plane took off I could not stop crying, if the poor passenger who sat next to me is reading this I do apologise profusely. I cried and cried and cried and cried some more. It was an extremely long three hour flight for everyone involved. As we landed in Sydney I got off the plane and kept crying. I went and met my suitcases, as I piled them onto the trolley and prepared myself for the three hour train trip back to Newcastle my heart started pounding. “What the fuck have I done!” is all I could think. Already my heart was physically aching for CB and I couldn’t breathe. I found myself sinking to the ground again, I turned on my phone and dialled CB. He answered “I miss you already” my heart started pounding faster, I could hear the blood pumping all through my body and I replied “I miss you too, what are you doing tonight?” I asked. “Nothing, just working in the garage on some things for the house” he replied “Want to pick me up at Adelaide airport in a couple of hours?” I said. I heard his heart skip several beats as I said this. “What? Really? Your coming back for me?” “I am coming back for US” I said. What followed was a mad rush to the Jetstar counter to organise a return flight as soon as possible, funnily enough it was the same plane I had just come over on, only this time no crying just joy, pure joy. I smiled the whole way back, my heart was still pounding like some kind of ceremonial tribute to my relationship and I knew that this was the man I was going to spend the rest of my life with. Seriously who was I kidding? You know how people say this stuff only happens in movies? Well I think I am the first who made it an actual reality.

The plane ride back was long and tedious, I felt like an eternity, like I was lost in a Shakesperian sonnett being brought back to my long lost love after an eternity of suffering.

I emerged from the airport and still can remember getting on the huge escalators descending down, CB was standing at the bottom of the escalators with flowers in one hand and the other wiping away tears. I got to the bottom of the escalators and I ran to him, there we stood embracing and kissing, he continued to wipe away tears as I did the same (seriously how gay can you get!) in the exact same spot where we had done the same thing 8 hours earlier. We agreed there would be no more running, no more sneaking out, no more avoiding anything, we would deal with our issues head on together, as a couple, as a unit and this was how it would have to be if we where going to continue our relationship.

We arrived back at the house to an over-joyed Dior who acted like she had not seen me for years. After I finally pried her off me our housemate walked out and said “Oh you’re back again?” looking me up and down. “Yep sure am” I replied with a huge grin. Safe to say that the next day he gave his two weeks notice that he would be moving out, and really can you blame him? Living with two toxic people who would rather stay together because it is easier than being apart and moving on, I don’t blame him at all and would have done the same thing in his position.

That night we spend the night talking and having incredible make up sex, earth shattering, mind blowing, why did we think we could be apart sex that we had not had for so long. We had been so disconnected from each other for so long we where definitely on our way to reconnecting and re-establishing ourselves as a couple.

I lay in his arms and we talked about the crazy week and how we could still work things out and be together. Dior was allowed to sleep in the bedroom that night and as she lay at our feet wagging her tail as she looked at us, as if giving her own seal of approval that her mummy and daddy where back together (yes I was the mummy!) I felt content, happy, that my moving out and flying back was a wake up call, a sure sign that we had to start appreciating each other and it was time to move beyond the cheating, the lies, the mis-trust and force ourselves forward into a place of commitment, love and trust. Such things are easy to think and talk about but when it comes down to it actually doing it is one of the hardest things you will ever have to do. I decided to stop thinking about where he was and what he was doing when he wasn’t with me, I could trust that he was at work, or at his parents, or out at the shops and that is all he was doing.

For the next couple of weeks I spent trying to convince my Adelaide friends that I wasn’t crazy and was still a mentally sound person. I sorted about getting my job back and negotiated having a small break to get myself together and work on my relationship and my own life to get everything back to how it was. CB and I where closer than we have ever been and it felt like we would get through this and where finally at a new place that we where destined to be.

Marley & Me


Getting a puppy does not solve relationship problems, it creates more and makes it harder to leave.

 

After finally settling into the new house we hinted with each other about the idea of bringing another member into the family and since we both possessed a penis we had to move to a different species to expand our family unit. We started small with a fish tank in the kitchen, small, square and quaint it was the perfect addition to our home. We would spend weekends looking for more exotic and beautiful fish to add to the tank and clean it out, feed them and re-arrange the tank to both of our desires. 

 

After a few weeks went by we were in a pet store and saw the most beautiful labrador puppies jumping around in a playpen. We both looked at each other and could see exactly what we were thinking, casually we strolled over to the playpen and the puppies charged at our sides almost destroying the barrier. The shop assistant came over and asked if we would like to look at the puppies, as we both stepped into the playpen CB said “It can’t hurt just to have a look and touch them right” I nodded in agreement. As my leg hurled over the fence I was instantly attacked by beautiful chocolate blurs of cuteness that were gasping for my attention. They were all so stunning, yapping, biting and just generally being extremely adorable bundles of fluff I crouched down to pat a few of them closer to the ground I noticed one of the puppies was hanging back and just watching us. She just sat there with her head cocked to the side staring at us curiously as if processing exactly what we were and how she should react to us.

 

After the other puppies lost interest when they discovered we had come with no food she slowly walked forward and put her paw up on my knee and looked into my eyes. It was from that very moment I knew that this bitch was meant for me. The big, adorning brown eyes, the chocolate fur, the incredibly irresistibly cute grin and tail was just too much. I had to have her, she did the same to Bull and with an agreed look we left the pet store with the new puppy nuzzled in my arms exhausted after her meet and greet. 

 

Filling the car with various chew toys, food, dog bowls, beds and accessories we headed home to show our new family member her new home. Little did I know this cute and quiet bundle of joy would be neither cute or quiet for very long, I know most of you would have seen Marley & Me or read the book, but this puppy I swear must have been from the same litter. She only knew how to behave herself for the first couple of days and then the madness sunk in and she was nuts for the rest of her life. 

 

That night we took the puppy to visit Cherry Jones as she was also a lover of animals, at that stage CB had wanted to name her “Cadbury” I thought this was completely ridiculous and had already settled upon “Dior” the perfect name, for the perfect dog. As Cherry rolled around in the grass with the new puppy she agreed that the best name was “Dior” and so she was christened that night. 

 

We spent the next 4 months distracted from any problems involving the two of us as there was always a third around wanting more attention and love than the both of us combined could possibly offer. Not only was Dior the most disobedient puppy I have ever met but she was quite positively un-trainable. All day while we where at work she would lounge about in her half clam shell pool lolling around in the water, splashing her tail on the water surface spraying herself to keep cool, even in the winter this strange dog had a weird thing about water. I later realised after a fair amount of research that labradors are adorned in Alaska and are adept to dealing with the cold temperatures and have a thing for water. One night I was sitting down to dinner when Dior came thundering through the house completely drenched, as I dragged her by the collar to the front door to let her out I closed the fly screen door and it suddenly hit me, how did she get so wet? As I followed the incriminating wet paw prints through the house I got to the back room and it was completely flooded, water was spewing forth all over the ground in a giant soapy mess. My eyes followed the stream to the source of the leak, the hose in the washing machine lying there, ripped open with teeth marks all around them. That little bitch! As I bolted across the room to turn off the taps I looked out the back window and saw Dior slowly skulking around the corner with her head and tail dropped. She was still incredibly cute and there was no way I could stay angry with an adorable face like that. I started mopping up the floor and called CB at work to re-tell the story of the nights thrilling events I continued mopping and Dior came in the back door, lay on her back and started rolling around mimicking my action of the mop. It was the funniest and cutest thing I had ever seen, as I crouched to the ground she pulled herself along the ground to me and licked my face in appreciation of my smile. 

 

Dior also had a big of a shoe fetish, I lost so many shoes to that dog you could not leave them anywhere, no shoe, insole or lace was safe with Dior on the watch. It was like she saw them as mortal enemies that must be first paralysed then attacked and ripped to pieces with no mercy. Another one of her “tricks” was the shower invasion, just living the two of us we would never close the bathroom door when we showered, this all changed the moment Dior found out where the source of the big shower was. Every day she would come charging into the shower and throw you into complete shock it was just easier to let her stay in there until she was over it and would push herself through the shower curtain and curl up on the bath mat. After a few months of this CB started to lose interest in the dog and went back to being his usual in decisive self and began questioning where I was going, who I was going with, when I would be home. I didn’t have anything to hide but with a beautiful puppy and so much world to show her I couldn’t be kept at home. I spent weekends and nights taking Dior to the beach, walking along the jetty making many new friends as she jumped all over anyone that would give her more than two seconds of attention. Dior became my new partner and we were completely in-separable. 

 

A few weeks later CB and I were barely speaking and I decided that after listening to Dior whine and whine at our window it would probably just make more sense if she slept in our bedroom with us, that way I wouldn’t have to sleep alone before CB came home and I could actually get some sleep without being constantly nagged by a needy pup. Objecting to this idea I went ahead and did it anyway, it is not as if he was home to stop me so on I went sleeping with my Dior in bed, a mistake that I would soon come to learn. The first couple of nights were spent constantly fighting as she would lick my nose until I pushed her away, then she would push her way under the doonah and crawl down to my feet and start licking those, after a swift kick she would make her way back up the doonah and attack the nose again. This went on and on and on for several nights and after nearly collapsing at work due to sleep deprivation I finally agreed that she would need to sleep on the floor in the bedroom and would be punished if she jumped on the bed after I drifted off to sleep. 

 

Dogs are extremely intelligent creatures and this one knew exactly when I was asleep and that if she jumped up on CB’s side of the bed didn’t lick or attack me she could nuzzle her way in and stay there until CB got home where he would either kick her out of the bed or just resolve to the fact that he didn’t have a chance in hell of getting in between us and would sleep in the spare room or on the couch. This started becoming a big issue when the nights that CB and I would sleep together went from 7 nights a week to 5, then down to  3, then 2 then eventually we agreed that for Dior’s well being we would sleep separately until she was through this phase and then we would re-connect. 

Being a labrador Dior took this as a sign that she was entitled to sleep in the bed with me and nothing or nobody was going to change that. She became extremely protective of me, everytime CB and I had a fight she was always in my corner, curled up against me ready to jump to my defense if needed. We bonded in such a way that noone or nothing could come between us. As she grew at an alarming rate her exercise level had to pick up and we would spend our afternoons going for walks/jogs through the local footy field to try and run off all the excess energy she seemed to accumulate. 

 

Christmas time rolled around again and we had a beautifully high hedge along the back of our yard, we decided to adorn it with lights to make the backyard look festive. As we finished this and went out to get more lights we where gone for no more than 15 minutes and when we came pulled the car into the driveway the hedge was dark, we had left the lights turned on and plugged in but all we could see were a few lights twinkling on the ground. As I walked through the gate I looked at Dior who was wrapped up in the lighting wire wagging her tail looking extremely pleased with herself. She looked up to me as if to say “Look Mummy (yes in this relationship I was the obvious maternal figure) I did it! I got all the bad lights and I killed them for you!” wagging her tail and following me around the backyard as I cleaned up the disaster site, the real miracle was that the lights were plugged in at the time and she had not been electrocuted, even after chewing through the glass bulbs. 

 

I stayed outside with her that night as she vomited up flecks of glass and dirt patting her stomach and cuddling her tightly it became clear to me that I was pushing my man CB out of my life and only looking after Dior. I filled her water bowl and went inside, closing the door and sat on the couch next to CB. I looked at him in the eyes and said “I am so sorry I just love that dog so much” he pulled me in close to him and started kissing me, something we hadn’t done for a long time. We spent all night having sex on the couch and as the sun began to rise we dragged ourselves to bed and spent the day sleeping and having as much sex as we possibly could. It is probably important to note here that Dior became extremely jealous after this one day of solidarity and turned her back on for me for several days and was all over C.B. Just like human beings dogs have feelings and they can be hurt and feel rejected just like all of us. 

 

CB and I began showering together again after this day as a form of re-connection and to have some alone time just the two of us every day without fail. We talked about everything in those shower times, bills, grocery lists, cooking, meals, Dior, families, work venting and gossip. That was until Dior cleverly figured out that the bathroom door didn’t actually latch and close properly and with the right amount of force she could push the door open and crash our private showers, god forbid we would leave her out of the most fun activity for the day. As she got bigger all we could do was surrender to her shower attacks and let her have her fun, it always made us laugh and smile and in a way bought us back together. 

 

 

Part 8 – Moving Back


Part 8 – Moving on and moving back It was all organised Cherry and her new boyfriend would pick me up with a trailer and pickup my new lounge and take it to my new place, then we would go to CB’s apartment where we would have 5 hours to move my stuff into my new place. As I picked up the new lounge from a work colleague I breathed in the fresh crisp night air and prepared myself for my new life. Single, living in the city with my best friend! Who needs a man? As I got out of the elevator at CB’s apartment with Karen in tow preparing for a swift in and out move I unlocked the front door and there he was sitting on the lounge. I was pushing a trolley in the front door, there was no way out of this one, no quick story to spin like “Hey I bought us a new couch! Surprise!” I looked into his eyes and simply said “This isn’t working and you know it” Karen backed out of the front door and extended her hand to mine and squeezed it. He began begging and pleading with me not to go, sprouting that we just needed more time to let things settle and see where it went. I knew I had to go and so I did, I moved my things out and then headed to Ikea for a massive furniture shop (the first of many!) for a brand new start. Over the next few days we had minimal contact, he was desperate to try and work this out and I stuck to my guns. Living with my best friend was everything I wanted it to be and more! We would spend our days working and then our nights going out for dinner, sipping margaritas while watching re-runs of Sex & The City and talking about how great we where and life was at that very moment in time. We were maintaining minimal contact he was still desperate to try and work this out. A few times I agreed to meet up and talk about things face to face and each time seeing the complete sadness and emptiness in his eyes almost tempted me to go back. One afternoon I headed over to say hi to his cat, a beautiful russian blue who I adored and CB’s mother was sitting on the lounge. As I scooped up the cat and held her to my chest she stood up to greet me and said “What are you doing? You guys belong together! We love the both of you and think you should just sort things out and move back in together” Now just to give you a bit of history about this woman she was one of those Aussie women that you don’t mess with. She was dry, sharp as a tack and didn’t take any crap from no-one. I had never seen her emit such emotion before and this was the start of the destruction of the shield I had placed around my emotions. We had a long talk about everything and after two weeks of living successfully as a single man my brain turned into mush again and I found myself moving back into his apartment. CB decided that we needed to get out of town for a few days and sort everything out and suggested Sydney. Of course! Coming back to my home turf would make everything better, Once again my delusions of our future where filling my head with complete nonsense and I was quite content to let them consume my entire being without question or consideration to what they had done to me in the past. As we discussed the details of how, when and why we decided why wait and jumped on the next plane that we could and headed to Sydney. As we touched down and headed to our hotel in North Sydney I breathed in the fresh polluted air and felt at home again, we crossed the Sydney Harbour bridge in a taxi and pulled up to the hotel and headed to our room. We got through the door and dropped our bags and suitcases, CB pushed me onto the bed and spent the rest of the afternoon making love and ordering champagne and strawberries. Our room was fully loaded with a gorgeous view of the Sydney Harbour bridge and Luna Park. After our fifth shower we decided to go for dinner downstairs at the hotel, we began getting dressed and the lust kicked in again and once again the clothes where off, it was clear that all we could do was to order room service and just enjoy each other while it lasted. The next morning after an amazing breakfast in bed we decided it was time to explore the city and I could show him all of my favourite spots and restaurants. Morning coffee at Starbucks in George Street, Lunch right on the Harbour at Pontoon with jugs of Red Bull & Vodka, the Aquarium a place that always makes me feel better about myself, the amazing ferry ride from the city to the Zoo and spending the day with nature’s finest creations, warm nights at Luna Park stuffing ourselves with pluto pups (Dagwood Dogs to those from other states) and puking from the flashing lights and insane rides. After three amazing days of intense pleasure and reconnection I felt closer to CB than I ever had before and he apparently felt the same. The night before we were due to leave CB took me to dinner to this amazing restaurant right on the water and we had the most exquisite and expensive food. Everything was decidant and perfect after the main course he reached into his pocket and pulled out a ring box and snapped it open presenting me with a silver ring. It was perfectly shaped with just the right amount of sparkle, it was truly beautiful and the sweetest thing anyone had ever given me. My eyes filled with tears as he slid it on my middle finger and said “This is so in the future when you are yelling at me and giving me the finger you will remember that I will always love you and care about you no matter what” I sat back in complete shock with no idea what to do next, it was the first and only time I have been completely speechless in my entire life. After an all nighter the sun finally started rising and we had to start getting ready for our early flight back to Adelaide. We left the hotel room and in the taxi on the way back to the airport I was staring out the window with my hand in his smiling and feeling completely content and happy with my decision to get back together. I was convinced this was the right thing to do and I knew we would be ok. Our plane touched back down in Adelaide and as we walked through the terminal and to the car all of a sudden everything came flooding back to me, our constant problems, the nagging feeling that he would never be faithful again and we wouldn’t make it and I was wasting my life away. I decided to push them down and forget about them for now. Upon arriving back to our small apartment we realised that it was exactly that, small and jam packed with so many bad memories we both realised that it was time to find something bigger. We discussed areas we wanted to live and spent the next few weekends looking for as many places as we could, both being fussy queens this was a long and exhausting procedure. In the meantime I decided to hold a party and invite a bunch of people from my work that I didn’t know that well at an attempt to make some new friends and fortunately the response was great and it was here that I met one of my best friends (and still is to this day!) Kirsty, she became so instrumental in my life and will always remain to this day! It was over a meal of vietnamese food and Will & Grace that we bonded. We had the same love of movies and were both in love with rnb music, we are both gifted with the same sick sense of humour that made us click instantly. The best thing about working with your best friend is that you get to see them every day at work and then on the weekends, we spent a lot of nights at the movies, dinners, drinks, driving out in adelaide with the old school 90’s rnb music pumping from the car as we heckled hot guys and sang to strangers from the car it was the most fun I think I have ever had with another person. Two months of house hunting and we finally found the perfect house next to a train station in a suburb close to the city called Black Forest. It always reminded me of the cake and I just love a two word suburb (weird don’t ask me why!) My loyal friends spent all night helping us move the plethora of furniture that we astonishingly managed to fit into our small two bedroom apartment in the city yet somehow managed to fill a three bedroom house in the suburbs. After an all night moving session we were finally moving out of the inner city and into suburbia ready to start fresh and have a house together. Planning a house together is never easy especially when you have so much baggage coming with you both physically and emotionally. After everything was un-packed and settled we spent the next two months organising the house how we wanted it. Buying little pieces of furniture to adorn the place and make it feel like “our home” distracted us from all of the feelings we had kept bottled up and refused to face. Buying whole new kitchen ware can just perpetuate you into such a state of solid bliss I spent the two months learning how to cook things. After discovering through some hilarious mishaps that I could not bake cakes or anything like that to save my life I focused on cooking meals, by that I mean stews, salads, savouries, pizzas, home made ice cream, deserts not involving baking stuffed with that much sugar and butter just thinking about is making me feel nautilus. I was burying all of my problems, all of my worries and fears into food and it rewarded me with an amazing feeling inside. This would be something that I would struggle with an hold onto right up until this day. It still has a strange hold over my life, just the comfort of a well cooked meal, stuffing your face and making your insides feel satisfied was enough to keep me running back to this time and time again and would eventually result in the loss of any willpower that I had when it came to food or how to eat. Along with food I began to realise my love for stories, I always had a love for books and for stories but it was during this time that this intensified and I found myself eating, reading and watching as many movies and television shows as I could possibly inhale when I wasn’t working. This also decreased the level of exercise which saw me go from a size 34 to a size 42 in the space of two years of our relationship. It happened so quickly but so slowly, I did not even recognise it happening until it was too late and I felt happy and secure in my relationship I had no desire to do anything about it. My friend Karen always went away for the majority of the summer, she would leave early November and come back around February or March and after a long and teary goodbye it felt like no time at all that she was back and ready to party. The good news was that the house she moved back into wasn’t working and she needed somewhere to stay so after filling our guest room with an amazing bed and decorations I extended the invitation for her to live with us for a while until she got back on her feet. I realised that this was the best option for us to have a house guest and some company for me at night time. Karen arrived early one morning and I will never forget her face when I opened the front door. She looked at me and my gut with a smile and look of disbelief, she had never seen me look so big and I could hardly blame her. Karen and I were inseparable literally she would drive me to work in the mornings and meet me for lunch most days, then she would pick me up after and we would go out for dinner, or to movies, or for a walk (most of which she encouraged for obvious reasons) and I began to feel myself slipping away from CB again. He would get insanely jealous on the weekend when he would sleep till midday and Karen and I would get up like normal people around 7-8am and go out into the city and do things for the day. This lifted the surface of the protective blanket that we had convinced ourselves was working and fixing our problems with us not having to talk about anything. The demand for sex increased and I found myself looking at myself in those horrible mirrored wardrobes that should be made illegal and losing my urge everytime we started. CB insisted that I looked great and to his credit it was the one thing he was good at doing, complimenting and talking himself out of awkward situations. All of this came tumbling apart when Christmas happened, as you may remember I was not speaking to my mum or family and my brother called me on christmas day to tell me that mum’s current husband had moved out on christmas eve and left her and the house. My insides failed, it had been so long since we had spoken and I did not know how I was going to react to this. This woman had shunned me, she had kicked me out of her home because of her ignorant religious blindness. Should I really be expected to go back and talk to her just because of this? After a day of soul searching and deciding to be the bigger person (in all senses of the word) I made the hardest phone call of my life. I called my mother, wished her a merry christmas and listened to her story. As we reconnected it felt like no time had passed at all, I realised that this would be something that would never be discussed or talked about and I would just have to accept that was how it had to be.

Part 7 Discovery


Moving to the 22nd floor in an apartment is no easy feat and thankfully because of his second job he could afford removalists so we didn’t have to do a thing. We were finally in the “perfect apartment” two bedrooms, a large and spacious lounge/dining room with small verandah, two bathrooms and kitchen. The first night after everything had been moved in CB had to go to his second job for the evening. I stayed behind and began arranging the apartment, cleaning, scrubbing, unpacking, hauling myself over the heavy items just to make sure it would all be ready when he got home and we could spend the weekend relaxing together just the two of us at an attempt to establish some normality in our relationship. We spent the first few weeks doing couples things shopping for new furniture to go in the perfect place, dinners, lunches, shopping trips, wineries, spa treatments the whole being a couple thing and I must say I loved every minute of it. I had moved myself into a state of complete contentment in our relationship bubble and nothing or no-one could tell me any different. It was at this time that the reality of CB working two jobs finally took its toll on our relationship.

 

 I would work from 8am-4pm every weekday and I would immediately go from my workplace to his apartment which was 3 streets away and wait for him to get home at around 5:15pm. We would decide on a quick dinner which usually resulted in some form of take away that wasn’t doing our bodies any end of good, after a rushed meal CB would head off to his second job leaving me a thirty minute window to see his every day. I would go back to his apartment and watch tv, go shopping, catch up with friends and looking back at it now I do not know why I did not seize this opportunity and see it as a good thing. I had time to hang with my friends, to go to the movies, to have fun but for some strange reason that seems to happen to anyone in a relationship I wanted to be doing all of these things with CB. He would arrive home around 1am and I would be fast asleep, after he winded down from his job he would sleep for several hours and be back up at 7am to go to work again.

 

 Weekends were spent with him sleeping till around 1pm and then we would relax and really do nothing as he was too brain dead to do anything. Sundays were always worse with me basically writing the day off as waiting around for him to get out of bed to go and do something together. The exhaustion took its toll on him and then eventually to me and then out of nowhere things got strange, not just a little strange it was like we where this single unit and then some unknown invisible knife split us in two and without discussing or acknowledging it we started drifting apart. Fortunately for CB he felt it but me being the love sick, delusional, optimist I did not. I found myself thinking everything was fine, we are going to be together forever, this is just a phase, you know the kind of phrases we all use when we want to affirm a relationship we know deep down is clearly not working. 

 

I was spending less and less time at my own place with Cherry and am sad to say this took a toll on our friendship. This is something that I will always look back on with regret and unfortunately is something that I cannot change. Due to this I pushed and pushed CB to let me move in but was re-buffed every step of the way. I took this as a bad sign and this was the start of my relationship tree beginning to wither. I began to pull away and began spending more time at my house and with CB advising me that he needed some space to work things out I thought this would be good for us, a chance to re-ignite the relationship and take it to the next level. Surely he would take some time and agree that coming home to me everyday would be the best thing he could possibly imagine.

 

 

After a few weeks of some space some cosmic switch in my head flipped and my tree began to blossom, I told myself it was fine, he was over it now, we would be great now we just had some time to ourselves and we can just jump back in to it. So once again I found myself ceremoniously devoted to his empty apartment every night after work and on the weekends and in my mind everything was perfect. That all changed one summer afternoon I had finished work early on a half day and went back to his apartment to clean for him and cook a nice dinner. My phone rang, it was Cherry with the phone call that no-one wants to give or receive, the words you never want to hear “Honey he is cheating on you” I dropped the phone in pure shock, cheating? On me? What? “He was at the Myer Centre the other day and fucked some random in the stalls, I know it’s true because his car is in my backyard with his name on the license plates, the random is a friend of mine and he came over and we got talking and he told me about it. He told me exactly what he was wearing yesterday, do you remember what he was wearing?” I couldn’t breathe, Cherry to her credit sent re-enforcements to pick me up. I dropped the phone and screamed as loud as I could. My whole entire being slumped to the floor and I began weeping on the carpet, I grabbed my reached for my phone and typed an sms to CB “I know about the Myer centre CHEATER!” Three seconds later my phone rang, “What do you want? What the fuck is wrong with you?” I screamed into the phone. “I found a gaydar profile that said you where in Newcastle!” he yelled back into the phone “I know you are moving back there and leaving me” my whole insides shattered, my old Gaydar profile that I used when I was living in Newcastle. “I don’t use it anymore you idiot! Why didn’t you talk to me about it” I yelled back into the phone “I thought that you where going to just up and leave me!” the reply was desperate and a big part of me did not believe it. “I’m coming there now, don’t leave!” he yelled and hung up the phone in my ear. As quickly as I could I grabbed all of my belongings and met my friends car downstairs before CB could make it home. 

 

As I slid into the backseat my friend Dan and a stranger sitting next to him were attempting to console me, I have no recollection of what they said or even what I said I was in such a daze. When we got back to Cherry’s house I realised who the stranger was “It is true that I did with him in the Myer centre toilets. I am so sorry I didn’t know” he said to me with genuine remorse. This is not the 1960’s where it is frowned upon to be gay, you can walk down the street and hold hands, you can safely date and be open about who you are, we do not have to resort to dirty toilet stalls in public places to have sex. I know some people are ashamed but please at least one person out of the both of you will have a bed and going to a private place is really the ONLY place to be having sex in. 

 

Now that I have finished my rant about sex in public places (I hope George Michael isn’t reading this!) the next part is “I didn’t know” was left open as if to say “I didn’t know he had a husband” something that I had so longer for and was pushing so hard to be but was completely denied of having from this man that I thought was my future. This is the part where the relationship went haywire. Cherry told me to leave him and looking back now I wish I had taken that advice and ran with it, keep in mind that this was also a few days before my birthday. I was due to have a party at Cherry’s house and was set for a fabulous night and after this earth shattering event my brain went into complete meltdown. I spent the afternoon crying in my bed text messages were sent back and forth between CB and I trying to figure out “where it all went wrong” He called me several times and we spent hours crying and talking and at the end of the afternoon I felt as if I was completely devoid of all emotion and I was completely empty. He made promises about loving me and wanting to spend the rest of his life with me, something that was too little too late, at any other point prior to this in our relationship this would have been music to my ears. 

 

I stuck to my guns and shrugged off every promise he made convincing myself that this was the end and I would have to go back to being single and starting over. As my mind started to comprehend and understand exactly what I had just decided CB came in with all guns a blazing with “Please just move in with me, I want to live with you” the words I had been waiting for so long to hear. After much not so subtle hinting and questioning it was finally going to happen. “Ok” I blurted out, I didn’t even think about it twice or run it past a friend (Something you should ALWAYS do to get some real world perspective) He had to go to his second job for the night and he wanted me in his apartment when he got home so we could discuss a moving day. I gave my notice to Cherry and had to also break the news that I would be moving my party to the apartment as well, part of his condition of his funding the event. It had happened, this was the exact point that I became a relationship sellout. The kind of person to this day that I despise and when people around me do it I get so frustrated and infuriated as I can see the destruction and devastation ahead but they are too blind and ignorant to do anything about it or listen to reason. 

 

Let me go further into what I mean by this the “relationship sellout” is someone that I am sure we all know in some way or other. They get into a relationship, ditch their friends, upcoming events, blow off dinners and regular outings to be with their new partner. Then things start to go sour so they catch up with you a lot more and spend the whole time whining about the state of their relationship and what an asshole the guy is and how completely wrong you both are for each other. As a friend you are obligated to sip your coffee and agree with every word they are saying and be there as a supporting friend. This is generally pretty easy to do especially after a period of feeling like this new person has ripped away your friend from spending time with you. After you have this supportive session and the couple decide to stay together your friend then has to hold another session to inform you of their decision (which is usually a while later as they have to pluck up the courage and figure out how to justify all of this to you) and you have to listen to the rhyme and reasoning of why they broke up, why it wasn’t working and how it was all a misunderstanding or completely their fault with lines like “He really isn’t a bad guy, he is just misunderstood” or going the whole extreme of “You never really have made an effort to get to know him, I think if you do you will see what I see in him” the only reality of this situation is that you know a couple of months (or weeks in some cases) you will be having the same supportive conversation and going around the same loops over and over again until you either crack or the relationship self implodes by its own destructive nature.

 

Nevertheless this is exactly where my head was at this point I had no idea the impact that my decisions had on my friends and what in turn this would do to my relationship with them. In most of the cases the friendships dwindled and fortunately I can say after the relationship ended and time moved us all on those friendships have reignited and things are generally back to how they where. This is not to say though that this will happen to you, some people just can’t take it and never forgive and forget so it is best to not put anyone in this situation at all if you can help it.

 

The party was awkward Cherry was miffed for obvious reasons and a trouble making party guest from my work was trying to tell me that Cherry ruined the party by perving on the straight boys and making them feel uncomfortable (in Cherrys defense they where extremely good looking) and this resulted in a major fight between myself and Cherry and I moved out the next week. On the relationship side of things though CB was being extremely attentive to me making sure I was happy and things were actually beginning to look good. The trouble started when we tried to start having sex again, as much as I tried I could not get the image of the randoms face out of my head everytime we started going at it and this resulted in some performance issues. This is an extremely hard thing to get past especially when dealing with problems like ours and as the weeks went on things started sinking back into the old ways and habits and then a few weeks after that bitter and resentment enveloped my tree, spewing forth its poison and I found myself day by day regretting my decision and began planning a way out. I could not trust him, I could not believe a word he said and I did not want to live a life of not being able to. Fortunately one of my best friends Karen had a place 3 streets away and her housemate was moving out so I prepared myself to up and move out while Bull was at work to save the promises and excuses that would no doubt come. 

 

Part 6 – The Bitch You Live With


Part 6 – The Bitch You Live With

Immediately in the days following this things with CB started getting intense, we spent amazing nights cooking dinner for each other and watching movies. He introduced me to Dermalogica face products, we would spend our weekends hunting down Sony Aibos (a robotic dog do not even get me started on how much of life I wasted on this!) CB had a housemate named Ellen, she was a short dumpy sort of creature who was nice to your face but a cold hearted bitch behind your back and you never knew were you stood with her. After a couple of weeks CB and I got more serious, I would spend most of my time at his place or vice versa and before I came along they were attached at the hip. CB worked two jobs and a lot of the time I would be watching movies at his house waiting for him to get home. One night I found a card on his dresser from the sheriff advising to contact them immediately as they had a warrant out for his arrest as I picked up the card and stood there in complete shock I walked out to the kitchen and Ellen was there making some dinner. She could see something was wrong with me and asked what was up, not thinking properly I told her about the card and she grabbed me and sat me on the couch.

“Oh honey” she said “I have to keep telling the sheriff that he is not here and he is avoiding the whole thing. He really is not a nice person deep down. He has so many people after him he really is not someone I would want to be in a relationship with” As I sat on the couch attempting to process all of this information I was in complete shock. My idea of the perfect man and relationship was now beginning to diminish. “Also honey I wanted to tell you this earlier but didn’t know how you would react but he has guys here all the time, like when you are not here he has got someone else here.” The tree inside me began to wither and I began to cry uncontrollably, she comforted me and convinced me that all the proof I needed was to go through his internet browsing and IM history.

 

Let me go on the record and put in writing right now that I do not condone doing this under ANY situation it will only make a bad situation worse and there are better ways to get the truth out of someone. That being said at the time I did not know of or acknowledge this wisdom so I delved into the last 3 months of IM in MSN messenger and found messages from other guys wanting to meet up with him, the worst one I read was someone who wanted to meet up in a park and have CB piss all over him. I was completely disgusted and thought this was the end of my very first relationship. Ellen announced the she was going to bed and left me alone in the lounge room, immediately I called Cherry Jones and told her everything, within 5 minutes CB called me and said he was on his way home.

He arrived home and we locked ourselves in the bedroom and he explained everything, the sheriff thing was a mis-understanding with a civil dispute and the IM history was because he was confused about what we were and said that I was not giving him clear signals about what I wanted and thought of him. As I sat there processing all of this information I told him exactly how I was feeling and then out of my word came the three little words “I love you” He looked at me and looked like he was about to cry “I am sorry I do care about you a lot but I am not there yet” Normally this would be crushing for any normal person but no not me that just makes me dig in my talons in to the relationship more and convince myself that it will evolve over time and he will love me eventually.

The next few weeks I would stay at my house and wait for CB to finish work, he would pick me up on his way through and the plan was that I would never be alone with Ellen again. They were barely talking and things were becoming hostile between the two of them and I was stuck in the middle of it all. She would go out Friday night and stay out all weekend as we usually stayed at his house for the whole weekend. After a month of avoiding each other things turned hostile when morning trips to the shower would involve urinating in Ellen’s shampoo, conditioner and body wash. Extremely juvenile, incredibly immature and overwhelmingly hilarious. These acts of war incurred a retaliation when she returned the favour in over $1500 worth of Dermalogica products. The only solution for us was to move out so we spent the next month looking at every place in the city when we finally found an apartment in the main street of the city close to everything and it seemed like we had found our perfect solution. A few days before the move we were laying in bed when he turned to me and said “I love you” completely out of the blue and I am a little ashamed to admit that I did cry and as he hugged me and kissed me I felt like this was the beginning of the rest of my life. This was the relationship I had waited for my whole life, I could feel flowers blooming on the tree inside me and I was finally happy.

 

 

 

Part 5 : The Dilemma


Part 5 – The Dilemma – “We realise our dilemma goes deeper than shortage of time; it is basically a problem of priorities. We confess, We have left undone those things that ought to have done; and we have done those things which we ought not to have done”  – Charles E. Hummel

It was during these first couple of weeks that I met Chicago Bull a tall, smart, sexy, intelligent guy who wanted me. The first date we went out on was dinner and a drive in movie he was a perfect gentlemen and drove me home. He was best friends with Cherry Jones and it seemed like the perfect situation but the problem with that was around the same time I met another guy named Orca, he was Greek, muscular, sexy and had the hottest accent. We would go for long drives in his jeep to the beach and talk about everything on the way. When we got there he would go surfing and I would lay on the sand and watch. Then he would ride the wave in throw down his surfboard, pull me up off the sand and start making out with me with a fierce intensity it melted every part of me. He would then throw me down on his surfboard, peel his wetsuit down to his pelvis and make love to me on the sand. It was hot, it was intense and looking back I have no idea why I did not choose him.

Chicago Bull had a strange power over me, I could never quite put my finger on it. I think it was because he was so unattainable. He was really hard to tie down and to be committed. This made him ultimately more attractive to me and looking back I can see this was exactly my problem and is still a problem for many (myself included) today. We started off slow with our first couple of dates just movies, dinner, lunch then we moved onto the heavy stuff all the while Orca and I were still having out intense meet ups and I knew that someday sooner rather than later I was going to have to make a decision.

I decided to throw a third spanner into the mix and went out on a date with a new guy I had been talking to and hanging out with. We met at a sushi train restaurant (the very first one I had been to) we began talking and he was a little intense. He had bulging biceps and good looking pecks but did not seem to have a lot of substance to him. After our lunch he kept messaging me asking me to meet up but I kept declining his offers. A few days later and I sent him a message saying I would not be meeting him anymore for any more dates but was happy to be friends. The response I got was “Oh no someone like you does not break up with someone like me! Maybe one day you will lose some weight and become a better person…good luck with that.”

This was increasingly clear that he was the obvious elimination choice and with him out of the mix I was still stuck with two equally great candidates and no closer to a decision. I began to try and talk to CB about what direction we where headed in but once again he avoided the conversation like the plague. It was three months since we had started seeing each other and I organised a romantic picnic at a national park and wildlife centre the perfect getaway for the day and there would be no distractions around to steer away from the conversation that we needed to have.

We posed for pictures holding koalas and fed the kangaroos and then finally it was time for lunch. As I put out the food I began talking about the past three months and all the things we had been doing. It was at this time that I brought up the fact of what were we doing and  are we now officially a couple? He ate and nodded and grunted a few times, still no clear answer. I now realised what power men can hold over me and what it does to my brain, I turned into putty in his hands. I began questioning what was wrong with me? Why did he not want to be with me? Was he thinking about being with someone else over me? All of this began swirling around in my head as I poured him a cup of hot coffee from the thermos.

That night after I got home and he said goodnight Orca called me for another drive, apparently there was a huge swell. We made it to the car park and he tonight he could not keep his hands off me, the car windows started fogging up and things were getting intense. As I was blowing him he lifted my head up, looked deep into my eyes and said “You have to make a choice, I cannot wait forever, I love you” my face dropped completely and as I stared back into them all I could see was an intense sadness and a longing to be with me that I had never seen in his eyes before. He then pushed my face back into his lap and pretended like he hadn’t said a thing. As he dropped me back at my house I got out the car and offered him a half smile and he said “Ok well I guess I will see you around, even if just on the street.” I shut the car door and headed inside straight into a shower, as the hot water washed over me I began to process everything that had just happened. The time had come to make a choice and no matter what I did someone would get hurt and I would have to live with that. Was this all my own fault for making this mess in the first place? Well we all know the answer is yes, Long story short I chose Chicago Bull and if I could go back in time I would choose Orca if I knew then what I do now. I know that Orca did not get fat, maybe I wouldn’t have either if I had chosen him.

 

Relationships Beginning


Part 4 – Relationships beginnings

As I continued to live in the old house I came across an interesting profile that drew my attention. The guy was new to Adelaide and didn’t have any clue about my slutty ways. We started chatting a lot and he came over to stay the night. After an afternoon of incredibly hot sex and talking he offered to make me dinner. Cooking me fish and salad from actual fresh fish I was completely hooked. This guy seemed like the perfect man. We continued making out and discussed moving in together right away. This was were my head was at, I was lonely, desperate and seeking any form of love that would have me. He called the next day when the dust settled and he got home to say that it wasn’t a good idea for us to move in together. This was definitely a good move on his part as hot as he was/is we were not ready for that and still to this day we remain friends. He was my first taste at what I wanted and convinced myself I needed to be happy.

My first semi relationship was with a guy named Mitch. He was older than I was, not by much he was in his early 30’s, a real estate agent and he played guitar in a band (that should have tipped me off right there!) The first night he took me out for a date we went to a Oyster bar for oysters kilpatrick and shots of pertrone, shortly after we headed to a grand old Italian restaurant La Trattoria were he wined and dined me. The date was off to a great start, from there we headed to a small cafe for coffee and frangelico with biscotti, as the last drop left our mugs we were both absolutely intoxicated. We stumbled into a taxi and headed back to his place in the city (the slut just won’t die!) and he begged me to top for him, something I had not done before. I was used to the other guy being in control and dominating me but this time the tables were turned. This is the first time I felt truly powerful and in control. After this night we spent the next couple of weeks in and out of each others beds and lives were we could fit it in. Through all of this we did not seem to be connecting that well, the dinners got shorter and shorter and eventually just resulted in sex at his house were he would fall asleep after and I was wide awake feeling empty. He did not own a landline phone and his prepaid mobile phone was constantly out of credit, this along with final notice bills that littered his apartment were a sure sign that this was not the relationship I wanted. This was my mindset at the time, believing that these were the things that made a relationship attractive and perfect.

Finally it all came to a crashing halt one night I was dreadfully sick with one of the worst flus I have ever had in my life. I was literally sleeping with my heater for a week, a blanket over my head writing in pain.  Knowing I was feeling like this he asked to come over and I refused, he showed up drunk and insisted on staying. Knowing full well I was sick and drenched in sweat he still tried to force himself upon me. Fondling and kissing me while I had snot and sweat pouring out from of every pore in my body was not really my idea of a romantic night in. It was clear to me that this guy had no respect for me at all. It was the first time I had to break up with someone and it felt weird. Not knowing what to say I resorted to not returning phone calls, ignoring text messages, avoiding the usual places just to make certain that I would not see him. After a few weeks it was safe to say that he got the hint. Finally a month later I plucked up the courage and called him, it went straight to voice mail so I left a message “Hi M it has been a while I am sorry I have been distant I have just been doing a lot of thinking and I have come to the conclusion that we are not good together. I am sorry but this isn’t working. Bye!” I immediately hung up and was processing what I had just done. After I sorted out the conflicting emotions I felt relieved and ever hopeful that there was someone would be out there for me.

It was through this process that I began to discover that I wasn’t feeling great about myself or what I had done. I almost felt guilty and to some point ashamed that I had so casually thrown away a chance at a relationship just because I was feeling incredibly sick. This was the first time I had ever felt remorseful about a relationship ending, a feeling I am sorry to say that would stay with me for a while. Over the course of the next few weeks I began acting irrationally. For one entire week I cleaned our apartment from top to bottom every day. Scrubbing away the mould on the bathroom roof, cleansing the toilet over and over again, vacuuming every last crumb off the carpet and Jiffing the stainless steel kitchen sink to the point of a glare. It was strange, it was odd, my friends asked if I was pregnant or going through “the change” I knew that none of these were the answer and finally after a week my cleaning frenzy whittled down to non chalant calmness and I began to sink into a deep depression. It was wildly complex and upsetting everyday I would wake up, go to the beach and sit and think all day long. This went on for a few days before my housemate alerted me to my lack of bathing and ability to change clothes and again I was back to just pure depression.

It was then that I discovered the phone sex chat lines. Now before you judge just remember I came from an extremely sheltered christian upbringing and I did not know that such things existed. This horrible addiction cost me so much over the next couple of months if I could go back in time and change it I would. I would spend all afternoon and night on the phone chat lines. I was the 1800 whore and I was chatting up like there was no tomorrow. I talked to some interesting characters, the first one I actually met was named George. Immediately the name turned me off as I imagined an older gentlemen with glasses that was 55-60 years old who wore a waistcoat and perfectly pleated pants but something about his greek accent made me want to meet this guy. We met at the jetty in Glenelg were we had coffee and went for a walk on the “beach”. If you have ever been to Glenelg you will know why I put the inverted marks there. We talked for hours on the beach and when it got too cold went back to his loft in the city where the conversation continued for several hours and listening to jazz music. When the morning crept up on us we crept into his bed and lay there talking. He put the moves on and we got to second base. It was here that he stopped and wanted to take things slow. He was a decent guy but seemed very boring, very plain not entirely what I was looking for at all. So after he dropped me home and I got my head around bacon and eggs I decided not to see him again, even to the point of disguising my voice (not so convincingly) on the phone chat line when came on that it wasn’t me.

After this terrible disappointment my slut switch turned itself back on and seemed to go into hyperdrive mode and I once again began doing my rounds. The highlights included a high profile AFL footballer who I will still never name who was incredible on and off the field, a straight tradie who plowed me in his ute still high on whatever amount of drugs he had taken the night before in a carpark at the beach.

It was at this time that I hit the clubs again and once again started making my rounds with a new crowd of guys this time at the club Mars. As I made my way around the club two nights a week I began to feel that empty feeling again the same night I did at Mitch’s house and then without even realizing it I was back in relationship mode again. This of course coincided with seeing Pete the mechanic again. One night I was out doing my rounds at a karaoke bar for the launch of Sky Vodka and with a free vodka for every song you sang I was in! I hit the club early and sang a few tunes to get some drinks up my sleeve and then halfway through “When You Say Nothing At All” by Ronan Keating in walked in Pete. Dressed in tight black jeans and a DC Skate tight t shirt he was looking hotter than ever. My eyes immediately turned to him and for a second I forgot the words as our eyes connected and for a few moments it felt like we were the only two in the whole club. He had been working out more and his arms were huge and inviting, I glided across the dance floor as cool as I could and pretended to literally bump into him and much to my surprise his chest had gotten bigger as well. We exchanged pleasantries and he whispered in my ear “I want to fuck you so bad right here on the dance floor” We began to dance and I could feel his hard on pressing into me as we grinded against each other I had never felt so hot in my entire life. He put his arms around me and pulled me in closer to his chest. We danced together his big arms enveloping me, making me feel like I was home.

After what felt like hours on the dance floor we headed into the bar for fresh drinks and as he sculled his shot of vodka he grabbed me and kissed me deeply, then came those arms again enveloping themselves around me and my hands ran up under his shirt and felt his six pack. He had DEFINITELY been working out and was looking like a young Hugh Jackman and that is no exaggeration. He skulled the rest of my drink and pushed me out the door into a taxi, we headed back to his place where he literally ripped my clothes off and he gave me what still stands to this day as the best sex I have ever had. After several hours had passed and we were finished he wrapped his arms around me and said “This has been really great seeing you again, I missed you” and kissed my forehead. It was official I was back in love again or so I thought “Don’t get the wrong idea I am still going to have a wife and kids I just really loved seeing you again I have missed this” and with that nestled his head into my back and fell asleep. That was the last time I ever saw him, I crept out early in the morning without a note or explanation and we never saw each other again. As I left his house an internal switch flipped on inside of me and started birthing this desire to be in a relationship. The seed was planted and I could feel it growing inside me, enveloping my insides and creating an unbreakable desire to find that one person that I am meant to be with.

It was after this time that I realised that after sowing my wild seeds it was high time I settle down (it was also around this time that I started watching Sex & The City!) Immediately I sided with Carrie Bradshaw and realised like most young gays that I was Carrie Bradshaw wanting that big love and also being a writer and hopeless romantic aided my alliance and claim to becoming the male version of Carrie Bradshaw. Much like Carrie I took an interest in the love life of my friends and took to matching them together, a gift that I am proud to say still follows me today. Much like Carrie focusing on love in my own life was hard, I have high expectations, I believe in love, I do not believe in cheating and settling for anything less is just wasting my time and this is how I treat every relationship I get into. It is working towards a life together and playing games and wanting open relationships and other guys involved is put simply wasting my time and I will no longer put up with that.

My living situation was changing and I found myself having to move back in with my mother for a short period while I looked for another house. I moved back in and I decided I would take my time and figure out my life and what I wanted. Was I really ready for a relationship? Could I stand to put up with one person for the rest of my life? This unbridled feeling within me said yes but my head was still trying to work out the finer details. As I was working through these feelings I was still connecting with new guys and yes I mean connecting, meeting up for dates, dinners, coffees, lunches anything I could get really to chat to guys and see what was out there and what I liked. After several weeks of intense dating I could not bare to stay at my parents house any longer and I had to get out. One of my close friends Cherry Jones aka Meglamania had a spare room and was needing a housemate, without hesitation I accepted and arranged to move my things. A cute little house five minutes out of the heart of the city this seemed like the perfect place to start my new journey of self discovery.

Initiating Slut Mode All Space Cadets On Dick!


Past Part Three – Initiating Slut Mode All Space Cadets On Dick!

The house was old, VERY old, the paint was peeling from the weatherboards on the front verandah. The railing only went half way around and went on a slant to the ground, I definitely had down-graded. The carpet in the hallway had been there since the 1970s and not replaced since then either and from the level of dust and dog hair that formed the top layer it possibly could have been that long since it was cleaned. Still I had to start somewhere so here I was with a couple of bags that resembled my possessions. I slept on a mattress on the floor that belonged to my new housemate. A burly girl who resembled a giantess with two crooked buck teeth, both her arms covered in thick black hair with a mustache and leg hair to match. My days where spent looking for work, going to interview after interview and being generally depressed for the first few weeks after the realization that my relationship was over and would never be patched up. He wanted to remain “friends” and we did try but it was just too painful. I was completely crushed and could not believe that it was over.

The second week I was in my new house I got connected to the internet and decided some stalking was in order. I created a fake gaydar profile with some fake photos randomly downloaded and immediately hit on Tic Tac and after general chit chat began quizzing him about his “ex” Let me stop right here and say this is the WORST thing you can ever do both to your ex and to yourself. The first answer I got was “It just didn’t really work out so we went our separate ways” Not satisfied with this answer I pressed the issue further “Oh ok but seriously was it a bad break up?” my fake profile responded “No it just didn’t work out and that was that” The conversation then turned to when we would be meeting up. After I set a time and place I deleted the profile and felt a slight bit of remorse, was this huge break up just in my head? Had I pushed the issue and built up this big drama and reason in my head as to why we were now separate or had I just lost a lot more than just my boyfriend in the last few months.

As I began to think the realization came that I had lost my family, a fair few friends and my boyfriend. My entire world as I knew it had crumbled down and I had no supports to keep me stable. This was the first time that I had me and only me to rely on. I cannot stress the fear that this situation fills you with the first time you are in it. After a few weeks of living by myself some sort of natural instincts kicked in and I became self reliant. It is not something you can just do, it is self-taught and once you learn it you are set for life. I would take myself out all the time, exploring the city and its surroundings by myself and not needing anyone with me, in addition to having no money I managed to go out every Friday and Saturday night to a little pub called The Ed, it was 1 out of 2 gay venues in the local area. It was fabulous, it was the first place I ever saw a drag show and loved it. My first experience with a drag queen was Meglamania who still remains to this day one of the funniest people I know. Along with her bestie Kane St Kane together they welcomed me into the local community and to their social circles. I met their friends, their ex’s and acquaintances and I slept with them all, this was no mean feat and definitely something that at the time was a personal challenge that I fulfilled quite easily.

With my two night weekly visits I rapidly became the town bike. I am unashamed to say that I would have 2 -3 men over each Friday and Saturday night for mind numbing, blow and go sex with no intention of settling down. I wasn’t too picky I slept with bikers, lawyers, doctors, artists, football players (some high profile but of course have to remain nameless.) A few of them were drunk pick ups and looking back were not as pretty as I thought they were through my drunken haze. My only rule was that they never stay the night, most guys I found were ok with this but one in particular travelled an hour and a half to get to me insisted on staying the night. We had sex several times and he was incredibly talented with his tongue but as soon as it was over I wanted him out. It was a complete disconnection of emotion and any sense of human compassion. At the time this felt like the most rational way to deal with my pain, looking back I see just how much this would have hurt and the absolute rudeness of it.  Whilst this may make me sound like a ginormous slut it was amazing. I had never felt so liberated and wanted in my whole life. Men wanted me not for me but for my body. This sounds incredibly vain and shallow on paper but I had pain and I needed a way to release it. This was what the movies, songs, tv shows and media were talking about wasn’t it? This was how life was meant to be and it was meant to feel amazing.

It was at this house that I met Malcolm and Jarrod who lived across the road as mentioned in my first chapter. They became my first official gay friends and we would spend endless nights in their lounge room drinking coffee, smoking and laughing. After several nights of this it led me to meeting one of their friends Big M. One of the first oddest relationships I have ever had. The first night he took Malcolm and myself on a “haunted tour” of Adelaide, showing us all the haunted places the city and suburbs had to offer. We stayed out all night and the tour was actually quite scary, which ended up with me all over him of course at the end of the night. We started dating but never slept together, not through lack of my trying. It was an odd relationship, the whole time I felt like he was sleeping with Malcolm as he seemed to connect with him more than me but I guess that is something I will never know.

Big M and I lasted about a month before I returned to my slutty ways and moved it to a new location The Hampshire of Hampy as it is known to the locals was a younger crowd. The pick ups were not that great, one night I started talking to this guy named Peter, he was straight apparently and just liked the feeling of being with another guy but was not looking for commitment as he wanted a wife and kids one day. Naturally this was the perfect fit for my current slutty state and we slept together several times. The boy looked good and was incredibly gifted with his hands. He was a mechanic and he was incredible! One night I was belting out a karaoke hit and he just stared at me the whole time I sang. Our eyes kept connecting and something inside me clicked, it was like my slut switch burned out and I had this incredible desire to have a relationship. This is the exact point that my life started turning and the new person seeking and craving a relationship emerged, so Pete if you are reading this you are to blame! Thank you very much!

I’m Coming Out!


My coming out party was hardly a party, in fact it was the complete opposite of anything resembling a party the whole idea of “coming out” and how exciting it is meant to be was completely wasted on me. So often we are bombarded with images in the media of coming out with supportive friends all around us, families who understand and accept and we are met with hugs, applause and support. For me this was completely the opposite, I was met with hatred, anger, ignorance and kicked out of my home. Now let me be very clear, I am not trying to evoke sympathy or make this a sob story. These are simply the facts, I come from an extremely conservative christian upbringing with pure unadulterated belief in the bible and all it’s teachings and that none of it’s contradictions are to be questioned or discussed. My brother was in bible college at the time studying to be a minister, my sister was a regular church attender and youth leader and my Mum was the happy parent. I was going to church at this stage of my life constantly struggling with never fitting in and feeling like a complete outsider. Everyone of their teachings just drove me crazy, you where allowed to question but if you took it to far and didn’t always come to the conclusion “God knows best” it was frowned upon. I made several failed attempts at being a good christian boy and I am sad to say that I had to tell myself and other people a lot of lies to try and make it work. In the end everything washed out, it all came clear and on new years eve 2005 as I performed “Crazy In Love” by Beyonce in a church hall I knew that my time with church and with the christian God was over.

It was at this time that I started thinking of myself as a gay man, it was this precise moment at two minutes past midnight when I was in the back seat of my parents car stuck in traffic in the main road of Adelaide that I knew I was gay and this would be what would make me happy. It was the finality of knowing that this is who I really am and who I am meant to be and why was I running away from it? Why was I so afraid of how my family would react? As drunk slutty girls with their skeezy boyfriends made out all along the street I made a decision that I would find out who I was while still living with my Mum and once I have discovered who I really was meant to be I would go out into the world and live my life happily. Only half of this came true, I went out into the world and started dating. My very first official boyfriend his name was Tic Tac he worked at the international airport and was addicted to tic tac’s and yes I am talking about the mints. He always had packets of tic tacs on him, he had store displays proudly on show in his garage. The up side was that his breath was always minty fresh or tasted like spearmint. This was something that was probably the only plus of being in this relationship. The major downside was that he was a 25 year old who depended on viagra to get it up, not something he revealed on his first night and with a young 21 year old nympho on his hands it was the wrong fit from the very start. Our first date consisted of a ribs and wings combo from this authentic little italian restaurant that we ordered to take home. While provocatively inhaling each individual rib I wondered why this wasn’t progressing the way I had intended.

We finally finished our meals and washed our hands clean and started getting close on the couch, my hand kept brushing the crotch of his jeans and I could not feel anything, it was as if my hand was brushing a limp spanish sausage that was yet to come into season. An hour into the movie I was beginning to question myself, was I sexually attractive? Was I destined to be one of those bookish gay types, you know the one’s who have a million girl friends and never have a boyfriend of their own. While I questioned my attractiveness and the effect of my technique over and over in my head he excused himself to go to the bathroom. He was gone for a good fifteen minutes, I checked my breath, my armpits, making sure there was no smell emanating from my pores that resembled bbq pork ribs or honey soy chicken wingettes. After my check was completed I re-arranged myself on the couch and awaited his return. I was so involved in this moment I had convinced myself that I was an utter and complete failure at love and attractiveness that I could not even tell you what movie we where watching or even have the faintest idea what it was about, even now my mind draws a blank. He finally returned to the corner position on the couch and I again took my place nestled in the cradle of his right arm, after ten minutes or so I could feel his jeans tighten and his crotch starting to grow. This was it, finally after an hour of trying to waken the beast it had finally responded to my touch. I wasn’t doing anything different to what I had been before but for some unknown reason it was working now. He leaned his head down and started kissing me deeply, passionately, his tongue working the inside of my mouth like a hoover. I will stop the description at this point as this is not a pornographic novel (or that is not my intent). We made love and being the early twenty nympho that I was, was already considering round two. I moved down to start the “proceedings” when once again I found myself being stuck in limp land. As I attempted to revive the beast he lifted my head up with small tears in his eyes “I’m really sorry it only works once a night” I must have given his the most confused look anyone in the history of the world has ever had. “I need um…assistance to help me get there” he said his voice echoing with vulnerability. I had to process this for a few minutes before I actually got what he was talking about. “Oh I’m sorry you must think I am a complete sex starved freak!” I replied trying to fill my voice with enough sympathy and understanding. “It’s ok are you ok with this?” as I processed this information I replied “Of course I am, seriously it’s fine!” To this day I still don’t know if it was because I was willing to accept his situation or he actually liked me that we stayed together.

Over the next few months our time was filled with each other, we would have dinners, lunches, movies every chance we got. One weekend we made a decision to do an impromptu visit to the Adelaide wineries. It was my first and I was beyond excited to see this beautiful state that I was now convinced I was destined to be a resident of for some time. We made our way down the freeway and left any sights of the city behind us. Dry patches of bare land rushed past us, coming from Newcastle and Sydney where our lands are green and lush this was quite a shock to my system. This was also reflected in the weather particularly in summer. The dry heat with no ocean breeze to offer any relief was beyond horrifying and with temperatures soaring into this mid 40’s in a typical summer I was convinced this was no place for me to remain for too long. I have always loved the beach, something about the rolling of the waves, the white sand, the crystal blue water always invites me in and makes me want to live there. When I was 17 and moved out of my house I made a promise to myself that I would always live near the beach, the maximum 20 minutes away so I could always just go if I needed to and to this day it still remains a staple of my existence, I would even go so far as to say that it is one of my life pillars. When I am feeling low or down and I have no idea what to do just going to the beach and calming myself will bring me back to where I need to be. It was this revelation about the dryness and lack of ocean that shocked me into South Australia. As we drove along the flat dry plains he proceeded to tell me that there where no natural beaches in Adelaide and the closest was about an hour and a half drive from the city and it was that shark infested you would not swim there. This alarming realisation shook me at my core, it may sound dramatic but at that point in my life it was how I was feeling. We decided to ditch the wine (this would be the ONLY time in my life that this would happen!) and drive to the “beach” A beautiful place called Victor Harbour awaited my arrival. We pulled into the beach carpark and my jaw dropped so hard he nearly called a paramedic  for assistance. The beach consisted of blue water, not crystal clear water that I was used to it was a dark murky colour, the kind that you would expect to see in Scotland or London a place not famous for it’s beaches or clear water. I was beyond words as I surveyed the town and water with disgust he found this to be the most amusing thing he had seen in a long time. We emerged from the car and started to walk along the breakwall to a small island aptly named Penguin Island. As we walked all over the island marveling at the incredible beauty and silence that this place emanated we climbed down onto a rock overlooking the ocean and began to kiss. As our hands where exploring each other’s bodies he stopped me “I didn’t bring anything I’m so sorry” This was beginning to be a problem.

We made our way back to the town and strolled through quaint little speciality shops parading their local paraphernalia I was distracted the whole time. How could it be that I ended up like this? When did I get this shallow and selfish? It was a long drive home and we struck a flat in the middle of the freeway, as we got out of the car in the extreme heat with no air-conditioning my patience had well and truly got the better of me. I could feel myself reaching boiling point and just exploding out of frustration. The RTA finally arrived and told us what we already knew, you have a flat tyre and provided us with a new one. The officer refused to change the tyre for us as we where men. Neither one of us knew the first thing about changing flat tyre’s on a car. Probably something that should be investigated before renting a car and driving down the freeway. This was the first test of our friendship, we yelled, we swore, we phones friends for advice and after three grueling hours later the tyre was changed and we where on the road again. This is where the cracks began to appear in our relationship. We sat in silence all the way home, now and again I would make a snide comment that it was intended to cut deep into the emotional ten foot re-enforced concrete wall he had put up since he started driving. The next weekend came and it was time for my mothers second wedding. He was my plus one and I had told Mum that he was a friend from church (seriously why did I even bother???) we got to the wedding and where seated at the same table as a pastor and his wife. This was not going to be a fun meal! As we discussed pleasantries and I masked my homosexuality apparently not very well my mum and new step-father announced their departure and I knew it was time to go. Her friends at the wedding saw right through my deception and convinced my mother that I was gay. It all fell apart when she found out that I wasn’t really going to church and youth group on Saturday nights and Sundays and long story short she kicked me out. My new step-father came out the back and said “You don’t have to leave you know I will make this work” as I looked at him with appreciation I decided that the best thing was for me to leave. I had made myself a promise four months earlier to find myself this year on my own and here was my opportunity, granted not the one I had been hoping for but an opportunity nonetheless and I knew that my Mum’s strong christian faith would blind her from ever accepting this so a little time would be best for everyone.

The only place I had to go in Adelaide was his house, I packed what little possessions I had and off we went. For the first week I sank into extreme depression with no job or home or family I felt like I was destined to fail at life. I spent the first week hanging out with his housemate, going on walks, watching movies and discussing my next move. The week after this it was my birthday. His birthday was the one before mine and his housemate’s was the day after so we decided a joint birthday party would be the best idea. The party theme was movies and we all dressed up for the affair. We headed to the local costume shop and decided that I should go as Elle Woods from Legally Blonde 2 complete with the pink suit and Pillsbury hat. The outfit was flawless and we even got a little dog for me for the night. Beer and champagne flowed all night, one of his friends arrived and he was hot and I mean HOT! He was 23, drove a V8, had a 5 o’clock shadow with dark hair and smoldering eyes that could melt you and I was hooked. We flirted all night and after I got dressed into my normal clothes he grabbed me when I was in our bedroom and started kissing me, his pants came off and I started giving him a blow job (what is it with me and my weakness for blow jobs??) His housemate slid open the door and caught me. My heart froze and the only thing I could think of was “I was just helping him put on his pants” she looked at me dis-approvingly and closed the door again.

A week later I had a job interview at Hungry Jacks (where his housemate worked) I was successful and started my working life at the fast food chain. After 2 unsuccessful shifts of clambering around and looking like a complete douche bag I knew this wasn’t for me. To top it off he had gone to work one morning and sent me this sms “You need to move out and it has to be today, when I get home I don’t want you there, if we are to continue our relationship we cannot live together anymore” Fortunately I had been looking at a few places and told my new housemate that I would move in that very day.

To be continued…