15. Masochism
The first ever guy that officially came into my world, was Nathaniel - I was sixteen, he was twenty-five. Tall and quite skinny caregiver from some orphanage. After a week or two he told me he loves me, and hearing these words for the first time in my life, certainly made me feel something. Unfortunately a teenager's mind is a fickle one, and I can't remember what happened, but quite soon I stopped wanting to talk to Nathaniel and just ended it.
The next guy that came a day or two later, was Mark. He was nine years older than me as well, almost had graduated in medicine. He was the first guy that made me feel stupid, however, with time I saw it was a bit unjustified. How did he do it? Well, during one of our calls I asked him what is he planning to do after graduation. Meaning - what field of medicine he's interested in. He made a really big thing out of it. Telling me how could I ask such a question - isn't it obvious he's going to be a doctor? What kind of person could ask something like that? It's just ridiculous! That was the first time a guy made me feel uncomfortable, too.
So that was my beginning. Except for that one PE teacher, who once touched me inappropriately, I think. Those two guys, Nathaniel and Mark, started my wonderful, wonderful journey of getting to know men. All kinds of men - straight, bi, gay. Soldiers, policemen, doctors, lawyers, priests, students, teachers. But never artists, hairdressers, fashion designers. Mostly tops, then with time some versatile ones, sometimes, by pure accident - bottoms.
Thirteen years later I found myself jumping back on that train. Has anything changed? I'd say so, much more guys officially hate labels, when asked if they prefer to sleep on the top or the bottom bunk bed, they seem to be offended that anyone could try to lock them inside of a box. Sex is an ocean of possibilities, isn't? Why would they limit themselves to only one position? It's not about sex anyway, it's about that person you want to be with. Bla bla bla bla bla. You're just vers, darling. That's how it's called for decades. Hearing this bullshit just gives me a headache.
So that's where I found myself now. Being surrounded by vers guys who evolved from being bottoms only because they realised that this whole city of Warsaw (and probably Poland in general) is filled with tons of bottoms. I'd say there is like twenty or fifty bottoms to one top. That is the horrible reality of being a gay bottom in this country. Tops have it great, bottoms need to compete with each other to trap one of the opposites, only for them to get bored or cheat at some point. Well, I guess we all need to adjust to the situation and be more flexible.
Autumn after William brought to me a series of very unfortunate dates. Basically every date I went to was either bad or just horrible. One guy, cute and very tall Ukrainian answered his phone while drinking a beer with me. He was on that phone for half an hour and just when I was about to dramatically leave, he ended the call and said it was his grandma. Calling at 9pm? Everybody knows they all go to sleep with chickens, but sure. The other guy, while telling me a story, whenever he was about to use some bad word, loved saying something like Excuse my language. Felt like talking to a mother of a friend, when I was a kid.
The other guy was a top, but looked gayer than Elton John in his prime time. He was wearing a women's sweater with golden buttons and a huge neckline. I screamed inside when saw him. Quite squeaky voice, too. Told me a story how he was on a train somewhere and on the way there, in Kielce, got out to try on some Dolce&Gabbana trousers that someone was selling on Vinted. I asked him - so you went to Kielce for trousers? He screamed offended in his high-pitched voice: I was going to Vienna, it was just a stop!
It was bad. Really bad. Only the waiter working at my favourite bar, where I went to for all these dates, started smiling when seeing me, because every time he saw me there, I was with a different guy, few times a week. There were plenty of others, but not interesting enough to mention here. In general all those dates were the opposite of good. I wasn't interested in them or they were not interested in me, no big deal. However, the amount of it all made me losing my hope for finding my prince charming more and more.
There was just one exception, some older guy, who took me to the theatre for a premiere of some spectacle. That date surely was great, but probably because no one ever took me to the theatre on a first date. Or any date, to be honest. He got the great seats from his customer, who was an actress in that theatre and we enjoyed a nice evening together. Then talked the next day shortly and then never again.
Once I just got a new friend with benefits for a short period of time - someone who fell for me, but I didn't reciprocate it. Still, sex was great, so from time to time I reminded him about myself and the same or the next day he came to my place to do his business. If only he didn't talk. Or laugh. Never knew anyone with such annoying laughter. He was quite cringe'y, but a good guy. Just a bit shorter than me, so it was pretty hilarious when he was trying to do some stuff with/on me but couldn't reach certain points at the same time. I sacrificed him for the last time on the day of New Year.
He got what he wanted, I got what I wanted - I just had this silly idea to bless this upcoming year with some carnal pleasure. But maybe, because of my impure intensions, it cursed me even more. This sex friend was the first guy I rejected in the year 2023, because that was also our last meeting. Next one was Daniel, a rich visitor from the UK. We matched on Tinder just a moment before he left Warsaw, of course. We still talked, however. Quite often, had even some calls, on one of them he gave the phone to his friend staying over at his place, to entertain me while he had to do something.
It was quite nice. He made sure I know he's rich. Told me about his "very serious" job, his flat in London, big house in the country, house on a greek island. Why, you may ask - well, Daniel's photos showed only his head. Nothing below the neck. So when he sent me a few pics from his house, to present his Christmas decorations, I zoomed in on some of them and saw pictures in frames, showing someone who's wider than taller. I ignored it and continued talking to him, while he wasn't aware I know his not so little secret.
All the time he was bragging how he's friends with some woman who used to work on the set of Game of Thrones and was responsible for the costumes, that now she's working for Dua Lipa, how he could get me a book with some signatures. It would have been nice, if I didn't know the truth, that all this time he was only trying to compensate for something he didn't know I already know about. One day he said he bought a plane ticket to Warsaw, he did it just for me.
That was something new, I had men before spend money on or for me, but never a return plane ticket plus hotel. And no one ever did it so pointlessly, because we never met. Daniel was the second guy I rejected this year. Why? Well, when he came to Warsaw on Friday, that's when I already wanted to meet with him, but he had some other plans, like resting. Then we were supposed to meet on Saturday and I was dressed and ready the whole day like a Christmas tree, only for him to read my messages and reply to them a few hours later. Finally I lost my patience and in the evening ordered myself some fast food and started watching a movie with a friend.
Then around 9 pm he texted me again, and asked if we can go for drinks, even though he promised me amazing dinner. I was irritated by then, but agreed - after all, not everyday someone from a different country comes to visit you, right? But then he read my texts and ignored them once again... until 11 pm when I was already in bed. He said he didn't have a charger and was trying to find any shop selling it, that's why bla bla bla on and on and on. I read the messages the next morning, ignored them.
Then he started texting me a lot. One message after another, plus calls in between. So I told him that it's already Sunday, and due to the fact he's acting really strange I've made some other plans for that day, but "good luck and enjoy your stay". Cavalcade of messages was sent to me then, so I blocked him on Whatsapp where we talked, blocked his number on my phone and deleted our match on Tinder. Two hours later I got a message on Telegram, picture of my building with a text: I'm outside, can you come down to see me? I screamed. Told him to stop doing it, that I'm not at home and I won't see him.
At the same time he tapped my flatmate on Grindr, probably trying to get literally anything, if he bothered coming all this way here. I found it all really repulsive. So blocked him again and was afraid to leave the flat the whole day. How did he know where I live? Well, when he got to Warsaw I asked about his hotel, he sent a location, I said it's really close to my place and sent him mine, stupidly.
Then it was two more guys I rejected until I realised what's happening - never in my life I had this clean slate. And I kept it, with one weird exception to this day. After a series of these unfortunate dates I finally got the last piece of my eastern slavic trilogy. The Belarusian Ivan, the Russian Valentin... and the Ukrainian Igor. Finally, I thought, I can close this unpleasant story, maybe with a happy ending. Well, it wasn't happy, as you can guess, and it wasn't the end, as recently I started this trilogy all over again with new contestants.
Who was Igor? You may say he was just another one biting the dust, while I was still slightly masochistic, doing all of that to others and to myself. It is madness, to do the same thing over and over again and expect a different result. Einstein said it. The problem is, I just can't seem to find any other way to get what I want. Or how to let go of it. Maybe, deep down I actually enjoy it all, knowing well that finding this one and only for another few years will eventually lead to boredom followed by a broken heart.