Dear Diary,

It has been a while!

It is indeed a long ass time I told you all the crazy things that has been happening. I guess I got caught up with life and being a “responsible adult”, doing adult stuff that makes me regret those times as a kid I wished I was an adult.

I know, Diary, you want to know about my fat-ass, villain-looking, macho, hot Latino hookup. And I will tell you after I’ve shared a few things that have bugged me in recent times.

First is the hilarious encounter at church! Yes, I still attend that homophobic gathering partly because of family and also because it is one of the few places I get to socialize, seeing as my life is now an uneventful circle of work-gym-church-home.

This encounter – besides the usual ones where we are constantly reminded of how the visibility of gay people is the sole harbinger of darker days for humanity – is one that struck me. The pastor, while speaking about marital problems and their resolutions, said this in summary:

“I don’t understand how a Christian couple going through marital problems and in need of counseling will go and meet a lesbian or gay marriage counselor! Ah! Somebody that is already confused! You are going to meet them for advice on your marriage so that they can add more confusion to it! You want to bring the Devil to solve the problems in your union? Someone who knows nothing about marriage but has just a degree on a wall or was highly recommended is who you want to resolve your problems? Someone you are better than?”

He went on and on and for some reason, I found it really funny.

I honestly think I have crossed that line where I am no longer surprised by anything that is said in this church, because it is simply just funny and comical at this point. The ignorance and outrage that seethes here when the topic of gay people is getting thrashed is just so interesting to watch sometimes.

Another issue is the work place. One of my co-workers, in the usual American way of over-sharing with their personal stories, told me she was bisexual and going through some relationship issues.

According to her, a girl she dated for over four years and broke up with because the girl was too “clingy” and failed to understand that sometimes, she needs her personal space, wants her back. The problem is she has currently developed feelings for a guy but earnestly seeks the amazing moments and history she has with this girl in the hopes that the girl has learned that sometimes, it is not always about her. In other words, she hopes the girl is less clingy.

After sharing this, and I’m trying to offer whatever advice I could, considering that I have been accused of being on either side of the relationship pole – too clingy or too distant, she interrupted and said, “I hope I am not making you uncomfortable by saying I am bisexual.”

Truthfully, I wanted to snap my fingers and say, “Gurrrrrl, I am the last person in the whole world who would be uncomfortable with what you just told me!” Instead, I kept my “macho” cool and told her, “Trust me, I have no problems with what you’ve just told me at all.” And I tried to make it believable as possible, hoping that she’d get the drift that I am into guys.

I was so close to coming out to her, but I held back. Maybe another time.

Moreover, two of my male colleagues share inappropriate homo erotic jokes with me. It could be because they follow me on the social media and see how vocal I am about LGBT rights, and they consider it an open secret, but I would rather we not have these kinds of interactions.


Now to Miguel, my sexy ass Latino hookup: after walking up the stairs to his condo type apartment, tastily furnished in black and white, we proceeded to the bedroom, kissing aggressively and bumping into things on our way. Clothes came off furiously, and just as he looks and talks, he became quite an uninhibited beast in the sheets.

We kissed and wrestled and even pushed over the bedside lamp, an act which seemed to turn him on a little more. And after the nuts got busted, we lay in his cozy white sheets, kissing and holding each other’s sweaty bodies.

I made an attempt to leave and he asked if I had to, as he pressed me to the wall and pushed his hands through the waistband of my underwear, kissing my lips and neck and chest.

“I love your body,” he mumbled in between kisses, and then added, “When am I seeing you again?”

This question is the Oscars of the gay hookup scene. The request to meet again is like earning gold points in a video game, especially from a guy who looks like he has no problem getting guys one would consider a 10.

I kissed him and replied, “I am available only on weekends”, as I reached out for my clothes that were littered in every corner of the room.

Written by Duke

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