Category Archives: General Rambling

For posts that just go on and on and on and on and ……

Hold my hand, I will take you there.

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There’s a place for us,
A time and place for us.
Hold my hand and we’re halfway there
Hold my hand and I’ll take you there,
Somehow, someday, somewhere.

West Side Story – Somewhere

[Written 27th October]

We text.  I had waited and he texted first.  I wasn’t sure….after last night.  OK, so this morning was the same but, you know…..

The texts were the same.  It is the same as if the conversation had never happened.

I don’t know what he wants from me.

I think I know exactly what he wants from me.

I am certain I am right with at least one of those statements.

Everything is the new normal.

I shall not call.  I will wait for his call.  He wants the same, doesn’t he?  He feels the same, doesn’t he?  Even if he says he is not sure.

Or is this like the chat?  Say one thing, think another.  Reality blurred by the fact the chat or the text is, somewhat, impersonal.  And yet, even the chats seemed different, before I met him, before he came over to kiss me (which, I will remind you, he said he never did with other men), before F.

There was a BF.  Now there is ATN (After That Night), the night that almost never happened.  He had, he said, been phoned by another friend and may have gone there but told the friend that he had this guy coming round but would cancel it if it was necessary.  But, he didn’t cancel.  And now we are here, ATN.

It reminds me of the time V & I first met and how that should never have been.  But it did happen and, because of that event, over 21 years ago, I am here, in this place, at this time, A   T   N

I hate Italian men……except him, of course.  And some others who are friends.  But other than those exceptions, I hate them all.  Even him.  It’s not that I hate them, I hate the way they think…and what they do….

Other than that, they’re fine.  If only they weren’t so screwed up.  If only I wasn’t so screwed up.  I only I could see properly.

He complained that it was going too fast but later said that, if he didn’t want to see me, he would have said.  He would have said no.  But he never did say no.  He kept asking at first and then, if I asked, he said yes.

So, he wants to see me every day but doesn’t want it to go too fast.  See, this is the kind of mixed up crap that I don’t get.  I have mentioned before (some time ago and, again with apologies to The Store Manager) that I think I may have a mild form of autism.  This is based on the fact that I do find relationships (this includes friendships) difficult to get.  It’s like I miss some signals.  But, tell me, what signals am I missing here?  The signals are mixed.

I told him I need help with this but, to be honest (and this time apologies to the ladies who read this), this is almost like being with a woman.  I am supposed to guess what he is thinking?  I am supposed to respond in the ‘right’ way without knowing what the question I am responding to is in the first place?

All too fucking difficult.

And, yet, I am sure that he wants me to continue, wants us to continue.  Wants it to be the ‘real’ thing.

Yes, I’m sure.

I don’t understand why he won’t hold my hand.  I will take him there.  Of that, he can be sure.

Shocked and Horrified!

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Shocked_and_Horrified

And the weather is so good right now, here.  Low to mid twenties, clear blue skies.  Saturday, I took the dogs for a walk in the park and got too hot with a winter coat on.  Sunday, no coat but T-shirt and top – still too hot, well, warm, anyway.

Today, stunningly beautiful and it’s the last week in October!  But, if only this was the worst that a Milan winter had to offer!

Tonight, F goes for the trial lesson for Tango dancing.  He gets home about 10, probably.  I’m not sure what to do.  After all, I want to see him (with him being away tomorrow) and I like that he is there in the morning (as porcelain or not) but…..I am so tired that, I feel, if I get to his place at 10, I shall almost certainly just want to go to sleep straight away.

Of course, I could do what I did when I first met V.  I used to go to sleep for an hour or two immediately I came home from work.  This allowed me to stay up when he got home (about 11.30) for a couple of hours.  It’s not perfect but perfectly feasible.

I expect that my desire to see F will outweigh the need for a good night’s sleep and I shall try to sleep for an hour or so before going round to his place.  Then have a shower, then take the dogs out.

Tomorrow, he is away so I shall try to get to bed very early and catch up on some sleep.

I wonder, idly, at what point I stop considering this as ‘dating’ and really consider it as a real relationship?  I try to phone him but his phone is either switched off or he is somewhere with no signal.  I decide that I will take a couple of hours sleep before seeing him tonight, probably.  He had said on Saturday that 4 nights was enough.  I jokingly said, last night, after the pizza, that obviously I was going home as he didn’t want me that night.  This, of course, was not true although with me going to sleep so quickly, maybe it would have been a good idea?

Ah, well, a couple of hours when I get home would be enough to keep me going, I know.  So, now, when we spoke, I asked if I was coming round.  He said he would phone me after the lesson – about 10.30 – so plenty of time to have a sleep and shower and take the dogs out!

And, if he says no, then that’s OK because then I go to sleep again.  If I go round then that’s OK too.  I suspect he will say I can go round if I would like to.  That’ll be ‘yes’ then.  If not, then I won’t take it badly.  In fact, there will be a little relief in that.

Of course, I could suggest he comes round to me but tonight would be difficult as tomorrow he’s getting up late and I have no spare key to give him.  Which reminds me to get a couple of spare key sets.  One for guests and one for the lady across the way, who has promised to take Dino out for walks during the day, if I get a key for her.

And, so, the one for guests could be for F, if he likes.  Although I may have painted the picture of the flat in a rather ‘black’ way, which may not be a good thing.  Still, one would hope that, when he eventually comes over, he will be pleasantly surprised rather than shocked and horrified!

Later:-  K phones.  He is in Milan with his wife (who is Italian).  K is an old work colleague from the UK.  We are meeting later for a drink and, maybe, something to eat.  I phone V who, although he knew about it now seems shocked.  He has to change some plans.  I wish I didn’t have to say this but it’s fairly typical.  Anyway, I said it’s not so important and he should let me know later.  I’m no longer responsible for him in any way!

So, no sleep after all.  however, I’m sure I can manage until tomorrow night, can’t I?

There because one is obliged to be?

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“I’m going to dinner tomorrow night with friends”, he says.  I reply that that’s OK.  “I would want you to come but they are my friends and it’s not right to arrive with someone else without explanation first”, he adds.

Again, I tell him that there really is no need to explain everything.  I am cool about it.  As I point out, it will enable me to go to some of my friends (and I have been invited to dinner).

Later, whilst on our second beer, he asks me if I want to come over to his place later.  Of course!, I tell him.  He asks why I don’t suggest these things. This is much more difficult to explain.  I say that I don’t because I would be over all the time; any time he says but that I want it to be at his pace and I am trying to hold back from being too intense, trying to allow him to go at the speed he wants.

That’s not the whole truth though and I know that as I say it and it makes me feel just a little bit guilty.  It’s ‘the game’.  I wonder if, I am really such a bastard as I think I am or may be?  I wonder if I am just as bad as A says I am?

He says that my overriding thing is to get what I want; everything I do is geared towards my needs and my feelings.  And, he’s right, of course.  Oh yes, I can dress it up in various ways but in the end, he is telling it like it is.  He couldn’t quite believe what I was doing in the first place – the search, the amount of effort I was putting into it but dismissing some as just not good enough based on the criteria I had set – just like I do when searching for a new place to live

But, back to the point, which was why don’t I suggest things.  I don’t because it’s important that he feels he wants me, perhaps, more than I want him.  It’s not true as I want him much more, of course, but it means that he cannot be sure, I suppose, even if I have said that I would be there whenever he calls.  And, I suppose, it makes him feel a bit guilty too and, therefore, perhaps, rush into something much faster than he would do normally.  Which is, of course, exactly what I want, not what he wants.

It’s like everything I say is calculated and premeditated.  And, as I think about that, I know it is true.  Even spontaneous things are said/done with some care; some thought as to the implications further down the line.

I had written that I blame this on my father but that’s not really true either.  It’s just me.  It’s a side of me that I don’t really like but seem powerless to stop.

Of course, it’s also one of the ‘doubts’ that invade my sub-conscious when I’m not with him.  I am pushing by ‘not pushing’ and this is wrong and not a good basis to start with.  But, on the other hand, he’s old enough to make his own decisions and, as he has says, he wouldn’t be here if he didn’t want to be.

But, on the other hand, is he where he wants to be or is he there because he feels he’s obliged to be?

I wouldn’t want him any different

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Baby I
Want to be
In your loving arms again
Feel you near to me
Baby, ah can’t you see
So much
Romance in the air
And all I really want
Is to be with you

Baby I – Joan Armatrading

We speak several times a day.  And text.  It’s what one does.  Like everything else, it fades in time, the messages only becoming those that explain why you’re late or asking for help or so on.

I was asleep, needing more sleep than I’ve been getting.  He phones.  I knew he would.  He could tell he’d woken me but, as I explained, if I didn’t want him to phone, I would have texted and told him that.

He doesn’t know if everything will be finished today but really hopes so.  He is still talking about, maybe, me going over on Thursday night.  As well as Friday and Saturday?  He knows that I will come on whatever day(s)/night(s) he says.  We shall see.  I’m not certain about Thursday because it is work the next day – obviously, for me, that makes no bloody difference, although I could be in later on Friday…….it’s a kind of hope I have.

I’m sure it’s why Italians look older than they should – just not enough sleep – never having dinner until after 8.30 or 9 or, in some cases, after 9.30!  So never in bed before midnight.  Anyway, I’ve said this before.

I don’t know, quite, how I will manage the dogs.  But I will.  Maybe, leaving for a few hours or so will be good for us.  If this is to work anyway, then he has to understand the dogs although, with Dino, going round to his flat is a little, shall we say, precarious.

He tells me that S, his ex, left the flat and has gone back to the States.  He is happy, I can tell.  It means he can get everything back to the way he wants it and, maybe, also that now I can come round.

Of course, this thing that I do is like a game.  It’s an important game but there are rules.  I know, you may say about the fact that I should let myself go a bit, but I can’t.  Everything I do is leading up to the thing that I want – although, on the way, I give him the things that he wants.  Don’t get me wrong, I’m no ‘player’ but it’s the way I am.  Even things done on the spur of the moment are not really so.

So, it’s important that he knows that I will come when he calls – but then I don’t push that.  Now, it is up to him to tell me when.  In the meantime, even by phone, I must do everything I can to enable him to want Thursday.  Considering that he isn’t mother-tongue English, it seems to be working quite well.  Obviously, it would be better if we were together physically, since then I can use my hands which seem to have some sort of magic properties and, for which, I am very grateful.

Even when he says ‘I will see you on Friday night’, I just say something like ‘That would be nice’.  Don’t seem like you’re desperate – even if I may be :-)

This Englishness of holding back – stiff upper lip and all that, proves useful.  I am grateful that I am English even if I don’t want to live in the UK.

I had said, after Ily got out of the car and had entered her building, ‘I’m sorry but I couldn’t speak Italian with Ily there’.  He told me not to worry, that it was OK speaking English.  He didn’t say but it was the thought that counted.  However, I must/will speak more Italian with him – we’re in his country and he hasn’t picked me because I’m English, well, not exactly even if that was, almost, a criteria.

So, I guess Thursday night somewhat depends on whether he comes home tonight or not.  He says that he needs to tidy the place up.  Of course, I laughed because his version of untidy and mine will be so very different.  Still, I know he will want it to be perfect.  He told me he also wants to be ‘clean’.  I understand that too.  I should imagine he is always like that.  Let’s say that it would be interesting living with him but, maybe, we get to try it, sort of, this weekend.

Still, I wouldn’t want him any different.

Rhetorical Questions

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I love my new computer! It means that, whilst I write this I can listen to some greats, like Melanie’s Ruby Tuesday.

Now, I ask you, what shall I do? I mean to say, really, it’s a rhetorical question, since, even if you gave me any advice I’d still go with my gut at the time.

However, the dilemma is this: Gordon has made it very plain that this ‘thing’, if we have one, has to go slowly. He needs the time to think through his feelings and he doesn’t want to be hurt nor hurt anyone else (which, I guess, would be me). This ‘thing’ cannot be rushed.

He is, absolutely, right, of course. One cannot tell if, after a number of weeks or months, one actually finds that the person that initially seemed so appealing, is, really just annoying or, worse, not attractive (either physically or mentally). It’s a risk, of course. Jump in now and take the risk that within 1 week/2 weeks/1 month, etc. It’s all over.

On the other hand, my view is considerably different. Firstly, the person that you are ‘with’ is not perfect. There will be things that annoy you, frustrate you, make you mad or sad or bad. They may not get on with your friends, your parents, fit in with the way you want your life to be, etc. What one does, of course, is some sort of compromise, something where there is give and take. You find the things you don’t like and, if you really want to, you either put up with it or the other person, if they really want to, adapt their behaviour accordingly.

Many times, these things are, in reality, trivial. Things such as the infamous ‘leaving the lid off the toothpaste tube’, throwing dirty clothes on the floor, etc. Many times, the person won’t even know that it annoys the other person. Sometimes if it is just pointed out to them, they can and will modify their behaviour.

At the end of it all, it’s about living together as a unit, as a couple.

The trouble is that, in my mind, it really doesn’t matter if it’s 20 minutes, 20 hours, 20 days, 20 months or, in my most recent experience, 20 years! So, at what point do you consider it ‘safe’ to try?

See, for me, the fastest and most secure way, is to get together immediately. OK, this is really for me. If I am ‘attached’ to someone, I stop looking at anyone else. I don’t even notice them. They mean nothing to me. My whole being is focused on the person to whom I am attached. They get my complete and full attention.

And, in this situation, I am at a loss as to what to do. What if Gordon decides, in, say, 1 month, that we should just remain friends? And if I have dumped all the ‘potentials’, I have to start all over again. So, I am trying to keep the channels open without committing. Really, in my head, I want to tell them all that I’m no longer available – but, that’s not necessarily true.

There is another option. Tell Gordon. Be upfront with him. Explain the situation and how I feel and what it’s all about and ask him how I’m supposed to cope with this; manage it or how we move forward, without jeopardising it all. However, when to do this? I mean by that, what is the right time? Now, tonight? When I am alone with him, in the car? It’s not perfect – after all, he will get out of the car and start to think about it all.

Of course, I know the perfect time. The perfect time is in bed. This is when you hold each other close and is the closest that you can be. This is the right time. But that’s not for a few days, at least, maybe, even the weekend. Will this be too late?

I don’t want to start something with lies and half-truths. I’m not good at that anyway. He must know that (well, he kind of does know) I am actually looking; we have discussed that anyway – what we are all looking for.

I could do it in a way that seems as if I am asking his advice. Leaving him to take the initiative.

Oh, but I know myself too well. I can’t afford to wait. Although, right this moment, there is only Gordon, tomorrow is another day……..and I don’t want that, I don’t want to see someone else, see someone that I think is better. I want only Gordon.

I’m sure (really certain) that Cecilieaux would say that I should take it easier……..but I am dangerous on my own, without having someone to focus on

So, having written this, I do need to find a way to explain and tell him. I also need to decide when and I don’t want it to ruin tonight – but tomorrow night I am supposed to be seeing someone else (this was arranged a little while ago). I want to cancel tomorrow. I want to cancel them all – to wait for Gordon but it may not be wise to do that.

So, yes, I must find a way and must do it and must do it soon. Maybe tonight, if the time is right………..I just didn’t want it to be rushed, to be without holding, without a closeness that will not be there tonight.

After all, it is really my need, not his and it has to be something that comes across in the right way……

Relationships – bloody difficult – which is why I said, some months ago, that I wasn’t going to do them again…..but, of course, that’s not really me either, is it?

Again, a rhetorical question. Thanks for listening.

Basta il pensiero – and, although it’s not enough, it will have to do.

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He points out, quite correctly, that we have seen each other 3 times in the last 4 days.  In reality it is every day for the last four days.  He also points out, again correctly, that he is here because he wants to be here and, if there were nothing, he wouldn’t be here.  I know this to be true.

But, he says, he is 40 and he is looking for something more or even different, from what he wanted before.  And I remind him of the chat message, on the evening that I moaned to him, where he said that we are all, in the end, looking for the same thing.

He was late.  Normally I would say ‘siamo in Italia’ but, for him, already, I am forgiving and excusing.  He had some visitors in the office and they wouldn’t go.  He texted me to tell me.  I texted back to say that I understood (which I do).  He was about half an hour late and the weather is cold now.  Some winds from Russia or something.  In any event, I need to dig out my winter stuff.

We sit outside as there is no room inside.  There are just too many gay people here, I noticed, whilst I was waiting, propping up a lamppost nearby.  The bar is Elettrauto in Via Cadore.  It is windy but we are somewhat sheltered.  However, it is still cold.  We order beers; he gets some apero food, he is hungry.

We talk about his day, what he is doing tomorrow, etc.  We have another 2 beers.  I like that he doesn’t drink like an Italian.  It is late; later than either of us would like.

The conversation moves to relationships and, because I will, probably, not see him for about 7 days, our relationship, if it exists.

But it does exist, in some form or another.  It’s only been 4 days – if you don’t count the chat beforehand, which, in some weird way, I do.  I try to explain that.  I try to explain things in my head.

He tries to explain why he wants to go slow, to be sure, to know me better beforehand.  We both think that things are getting lost in translation.  I try to understand.

He suggests going for a pizza.  I realise that he must really like me…..I know he has to prepare for tomorrow and I know that he is eating into this time by remaining with me.  But the conversation needs to be finished; a form of closure is required; we need to know that we understand each other.

I explain that, OK, I don’t need the full-on thing but I need more than just a meal, a drink, a visit to the cinema or museum.  I need some physical contact, some kissing, some hugging, some touch!

I think, at the end of this we do understand.  At least, this morning it was clear.  And, anyway, he is away until Thursday night and then he goes away (holiday) the next day until Monday.

I want to see him on Thursday when he’s back but there may not be enough time.  I decide that I will hold back, knowing that it will be rushed and difficult even if we did meet.  I guess it will be the week after.

We got a taxi home, my house is first so I get dropped off first.  We hold hands in the taxi on the way back.  My fingers stroke his fingers.  I wish we could kiss like I see the couples kissing on the street but, even if he was brave enough for that, I am not.  But, the holding hands thing, this is what I mean.  And this is enough for me, at least for the moment.  Later today, I don’t know.

I text him to thank him, he texts me back to thank me, calling me his sweet English man.  I am sure it is true.  I want it to be true anyway.

I text this morning to say Good Morning.  I explain I feel guilty about the lack of sleep he must have had.  He says I am guilty and we both know that he is equally guilty.  As he said last night, if he really wanted to leave he had plenty of reasons and excuses.

We text many times this morning.  He is travelling by train.  He is sweet and sends me kisses and hugs and I am grinning and although it’s not enough (although he sends the Italian phrase ‘basta il pensiero’ which, from what I can make out, means thinking about it is enough), it is better than nothing and will have to do.

There is this warm feeling that I have.  I am not in some crazy place, like I thought I may be, but in a nice place, a gentle place, a happy place.  I will speak to him later, I know.  I wish he were here but am happy that he will be – on Thursday or, if not, then next week.

Trying to explain something.

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We have texted and phoned during the day.  He agrees to meet for an aperitivo, at Bar Basso on Viale Abruzzi, one of the most famous bars in Milan.

I wonder, as I do, if, when I see him I will feel the same as before.  I know that, if we were in bed, I would feel the same but without that, how will I feel?  Will it be enough just meeting for a drink?

I decide that I will invite him to meet the dogs, since he has said he loves them.  I know that will mean bed and sex too…..I also know that he will know that……I am certain that he will decline because it’s a ‘school night’ and he knows it will not mean a good night’s sleep.  And I know that he won’t do that.

I am there early, of course.  I wait outside the bar.  I see him coming, he waves. I grin.  We kiss, on the cheeks, as one does in Europe, gay or not.  It’s a strange thing that I’ve never quite got used to.  I mean to say, not with men, anyway, not in public, not in the street!

He is wearing jeans, a striped jacket, done up, not with a button but with a big safety pin, a scarf, a top with a T-shirt underneath.  I feel the same.  I want to hold him; close; closer still.  I can’t stop grinning.

We sit down and order beers (yes, he drinks beer too).  He chats to the waiter.  I follow the conversation, more or less.  He is known here.  He is comfortable and in his environment.  That’s OK.

We talk.  I can’t tell you exactly what about.  We talk about the weekend coming (he is going to a concert in another European country to see a diva that he loves); his ex, currently over here and looking for a job; what he expects from a relationship (which matches what I expect); ‘almost’ relationships (which he explains to try and show me why he is wary and cautious); his job and what he’s been doing today; about how everything must be in it’s place (which is, absolutely, not me at all) and how he understands I will not be like that because I am English; spontaneity (something that he put on his profile) and how he is not but how, in his mind he is – and that came about because I did, indeed, invite him to see the dogs and he knew what it meant as I knew that he would; and he knew that I knew and that was why I was asking and he explained that he needed to take a shower – but with his shower gel and his stuff before he came over and that, maybe, we could do it next week, when he is back from his trip; and I said that he didn’t need to explain; and he said that he did and he wanted to and he kept explaining everything as if he wanted me to really understand and I tried to explain that I did understand and what I failed to say was that, I thought I understood him perfectly and, anyway, we weren’t a couple and that he shouldn’t feel the need to explain and he just kept on talking and talking and I couldn’t take my eyes off him (I had put my contact lens in again for this meet) and I couldn’t stop smiling.

And he touched my knee and I told him not to…..and then added that it was because it turned me on…and so he took his hand away and I had to explain that I was just joking…and I was joking about him not touching my knee but I so wanted him to do it again and again ……and he said he knew I was joking and he did touch it again, more than once.

And, yes, he was a little effeminate but not much more than V and, in fact, in some ways, more like V than was healthy…….than is healthy…and I’m not looking for V but, I guess, I’m attracted to the V’s of this world….

And he wanted to tell me about his ex and how, three months into the relationship, his ex had picked him up from work and they had gone to a bar and his ex had spent all the time looking at some other attractive guy and how he told him that, next time, if his ex came to pick him up and take him out, he should be with him and not looking for something else….and I agreed as I stared at him as he was talking, watching his face, his mouth, his eyes, not being able to take in everything but wanting to, so much……………and I know I would not do what his ex did because I never did it with V and I would never do it with any man that I loved…………if I do love him…………and I don’t know, yet……

But, and I really can’t explain this in words that make sense or in any words at all, but I was so very happy to be with him, even if it was cold, even if he wasn’t going to come back to my house, even if there would not even be kissing tonight.

Suffice it to say, I just can’t get enough of him.  In any form.  Even sitting opposite me over a table at a bar.

We have another beer.  I don’t want him to go.  I think he doesn’t really want to go but he is sensible.  This is what I meant before, when I said that I need someone to compliment me….it is good for me to have someone sensible….something, actually, that V did not provide.

Oh, and I know he’s not perfect – no one is, but, you know, he has something and I like it a lot.  And I will miss him like hell when he is away from tomorrow……even if I’ve only seen him twice…..it’s been a long twice (but just not long enough for me).

What really counts….

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I arrive. I am early but, because of my little joke about ‘tell me an exact time…I am English so I will be there then…’ I wait outside until the clock I can see at Piazza Loreto hits 9.45……and then I call. He doesn’t want to give me his buzzer name, I guess. I understand. We don’t actually know each other.

I cannot explain how different I feel about him. I mean, the pictures are good. But it’s also the chats we have had, easy, not forced or difficult or sleazy or anything…..I look forward to his replies in a way that I hardly feel about the others. Every word he writes seems just that little bit different………..but, is it, as he says, all fake?

He’s shorter than I thought. He’s supposed to be 2″ shorter than me but it seems more. He’s just in jeans and a T-shirt, nothing special. He doesn’t look like the other 40-year-olds that I have met so far – he seems younger. But there’s no immediate connection, I feel. Maybe because of what I wrote before. Maybe because, even before I’ve seen him, I have already discounted this as being anything more than friends. I don’t know.

He pours some wine. We sit, drink, smoke, talk. He’s as funny as he is on the chat. In fact, he is the chat, only for real. We talk about crap, about gay people, about relationships, about, well, crap.

At one point, as he is refilling my glass, he comes over and kisses me. It’s not like Venice. It’s not something that I don’t want. I want this. I want him. He goes back to his chair, opposite me, across the low coffee table. Across the books all about some Viennese actress, Romy Schneider or something. The wall on the right is almost some sort of shrine to her. He tells me about her.

We kiss again, several times, I run my hands up his back, and he likes that and I like it too.< He's very clear. There will be no sex. Sex on a first date means that you don't really like the person and it's just sex. That's OK. I like that. There's some restraint, something that I can look forward to, some purpose to seeing him again. Later....we go to the bedroom, we explore. He doesn't want me to go and nor do I. We don't have sex, but it's all nice and sexy and cool. His body, though a few years older and with a little bit more weight, is just as it was on the can (or, rather, as it was in the photos). I feel slightly out of my league. I wonder what the hell he can see in a 51-year-old - but he sees something and that something is something he likes. And I like that he likes it. We talk, caress, kiss. We enjoy the warmth of each others bodies. We both want much more but we don't. It's like some sort of game where we try to save so much. He tells me he never kisses guys. Well, he never kisses them much and not on a first date. And , not only has he done that, but we have gone much further than he feels is right - but it's not something that feels wrong or bad or that it will mean we never see each other again. We sleep. I hate sleep. I don't want to waste this time; this time to look at him; to run my fingers down his back (which turns him on in a way that I find incredible and fun and interesting). I want to stay awake and look at his face, see his eyes, run my fingers over his short hair, play with his ears (another 'special' zone). I am Top. I hold him in my arms, curl up against him, kissing, loving, etc. He takes the piss out of my accent. All his previous boyfriends have had blue eyes and are Taurus. Apparently. His previous relationship was with an English guy. And that means......? We sleep some. We get up. We go to have coffee across the road at a fabulous place with the most delightful array of croissants (called brioche here). I've never done this. Got up, gone out and had coffee (breakfast) in a bar. It's new for me. It's different. It's more Italian. We won't see each other for about a week, until after he comes back from Brussels. This is good and bad. But the feelings seem mutual and that is perfect. I don't know where this will go; how it will end; if it will end. But, so far, I am enjoying the journey. And that’s what counts.

Dreams should remain dreams; All mouth and no trousers; Categories from Top to Bottom

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I have Karl.  In my dreams he is the perfect man – funny, witty, beautiful, clever, etc……

If we were together the world would be perfect.  I wait for him to call me; to be the knight in shining armour, on the white horse, taking me away from all this – to a better life, a perfect life.

It will not happen.  And, even if he was the knight and took me away, it would not be the perfect life and nor, necessarily better.

And he is not the perfect man (he is Italian, after all and, worse, he has more hang-ups than a lot of the others, it seems).

He won’t call and, in a way, it is better like this.  The dream of him being the perfect man can remain forever.  Anyway, I am Top Only, which I will explain later.

And so, the friend I thought had a problem with the sweet guy (who is currently blowing me off, so it’s time for me to move on) did not.  Instead her dream was crashing with the dream being a million times better than the reality.  As I said, if he said ‘I love you’ and you didn’t feel that love that he didn’t mean it and it wasn’t true.  And it wasn’t true.  He said that he loved missing her.  And so, for him too, the dream was what he wanted – the reality being that he no longer had to miss her.

As I’m getting to start the meeting of people, I’m finding them all mouth and no substance (or, all mouth and no trousers as the English expression is).  Well, that’s not entirely true, of course, but a lot of them are like that.

The date for tonight (with Gordon) will, almost inevitably, be cancelled.  I can see it coming like the light of a train coming towards me through the darkest tunnel.  It is coming and unstoppable – or maybe I’m just too cynical.  Yesterday and last night we chatted through the site.  I even said ‘no’ to my piano player from Pavia for tonight on the basis that we would be going out!  Last night everything was fine.  This morning he is not well.  He has a headache!

I know, it may not seem much but now he has gone to work.  Later, sometime this afternoon, the chat will go something like this:-

Him:  My headache is even worse.
Me: I’m really sorry to hear that.
Him:  Yes, I have to go to work too but I will have to go home straight after work so cannot meet you tonight.  I’m sorry.
Me: You’re full of shit, you know that?

Obviously, that last line won’t happen.  Instead I will say something like, no problem, maybe next Wednesday…..

Of course, Friday night will happen.  I know that.  The guy phones me almost every day.  Tomorrow night, with V, will also happen – but, then, he’s not Italian.  If I wanted, the lawyer from Pavia would keep his word.  The tall, dark and handsome guy would keep his word.  Unfortunately, they can only be friends as there is no Karl Spark with them.

Last night, whilst talking to my friend with the shattered dream, I was explaining Top and Bottom.  She didn’t realise what this all meant and I was trying to explain that it wasn’t all about the sexual side but also about character and life choice, etc.

So, if you are interested, I will explain it here.  If you’re not interested, the post has finished.

As with most things in life, there are the extremes and then the shades in between.  In any couple there will be one who is more dominant than the other, the difference between the two being greater or lesser, depending upon the character of the people involved.  This is also true of the gay world too.  And so, not only in a sexual sense, a method has evolved to determine, easily, what role you wish to be.

So we have Top and Bottom.  Top Only, as I am, tends to be someone who wants to make all the decisions and is quite strong and dominant in the relationship.  Bottom Only is someone who doesn’t want to take any decisions and wants to be led through the relationship.  The shades are More Top, Versatile, More Bottom.

Being a Top Only means that, actually, the dream of having my knight in shining armour whisking me away is just that, a dream.  It can never be fulfilled because it is I, in fact, that will play the role of the knight……..which I do when the circumstances are just right……like with sweet guy, who I just want to take in my arms and fight off all the evil people who would harm him.  It is what he would want too (but, I guess, in spite of what he has said, he just doesn’t fancy me enough – ah well).

Of course, the friend wanted to put it into the man/woman role and I permitted her to do that, but it’s not really that easy to do.  We don’t do the man/woman role at all.  We have no rules like that.  It makes a gay man no less a man just because he is More Bottom or Bottom Only and doesn’t mean that he actually takes on a role that you could consider that of a woman – but, if it makes it easier for you to understand it, then so be it.

And so, being a Top Only, I am looking for Bottom Only or More Bottom.  At a push, I will look at Versatile – but the problem there is that we would probably clash too often and I wouldn’t be prepared to allow him to be Top from time to time.

OK, so that’s cleared that up.  Feel free to ask any questions you like.  I will try to answer them.

Planet Italy – The Dating Bible

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It’s official.  Italian men fall into one category.  Seriously screwed up!  Unless I am just being unlucky, of course!

This is how things are in my world:

1. Meet guy.
2. Find said guy attractive.
3. Decide to take it further.
4. Go to bed (optional here or later).
5. Have sex (optional here or later).
6. Talk some more.
7. Find you have things in common and you really like said guy or not.
8. Decide to see each other again and go through same stuff, (probably, hopefully, starting from 4).
9. After a while, if you both want it, make situation more permanent.

That’s how it’s supposed to work.  Of course, upon mutual agreement (or, perhaps, without mutual agreement) it can be stopped and taken no further at any stage.

Instead, on Planet Italy (which is NOT my world, even if I do live here) the Italian man seems to work like this:

1. Meet guy.
2. Worry about whether this is long-term or not/worry about whether this is what you really want/worry about something else.
3. Find said guy attractive.
4. Worry about whether this is long-term or not/worry about whether this is what you really want/worry about something else..
5. Decide to take it further.
6. Worry about whether this is long-term or not/worry about whether this is what you really want/worry about something else.
7. Go to bed if your worries haven’t already screwed it up in your head.
8. Worry about whether this is long-term or not/worry about whether this is what you really want/worry about something else.
9. Have sex if you overcome your worries enough or just talk about it or try and avoid it.  In any case, probably don’t have sex for all the worrying about whether this is long-term or not/worrying about whether this is what you really want/worrying about something else.
10. Talk some more – probably about how it may or may not be in the future; how everything is not straightforward how worrying about this stuff is one of the things that you cannot help.
11. Don’t bother finding out you have things in common because you’re too bloody busy talking about the worries.
12. Decide to see each other again (although why effing bother, I say).
13. Worry about whether this is long-term or not/worry about whether this is what you really want/worry about something else.
14. Go through all this crap again.

OK, so life is not perfect but we only have this moment to enjoy it since in one more second/one hour/one day/one week/one month/one year/one lifetime………..it may all be over for some reason.

Live life now!

Of course, perhaps all these Italian men are right and it is I who is actually screwed up?

OK, so last night didn’t go as expected.  However, one thing did happen that was really good and for which I am over the moon (and may explain some other time….if it continues so good).