Young, Gay, NYC

Imperfect

2011-09-21T20:50:00.004-04:00

We are not perfect beings. No one, not even the most rational, compassionate, and intelligent of us, is capable of deciding to murder another human being. We have all lived and, in doing so, have encountered situations that will colour our judgment. We make mistakes, yet we routinely give imperfect people the right to decide upon the premeditated and cold-blooded killing of another human being. To place the ultimate burden of life or death upon an individual or a group of individuals is to grant them a power that no one should be allowed to wield.

We commit murder in the name of society and send the message that homicide is an acceptable solution. This is immoral. This bloodshed is destructive of the common decency of our society. No decent and humane society kills their members. It does not benefit them in any way to do so. It neither deters crime nor is it cost-effective. When we make the irrevocable decision to eliminate a fellow member of our society, we take away the possibility of restitution if we are proven wrong.

Today, I am deeply ashamed to admit that I am an American. I am disgusted that atrocities are being carried out in my name.

Trusting

2009-11-20T18:40:00.004-05:00

I have always trusted people. I have trusted my mother, my boyfriend, and my priest. My mother spent years trying to convince me that gay is bad. My boyfriend lied and cheated. My priest molested me.

My mother used subtle suggestions to convey her belief that it was wrong to be homosexual. She knew even before I did that I was gay and she thought she could turn me around by encouraging me to find a girlfriend, get married, have children. I tried my best to please her. I had a girlfriend throughout high school. Even my girlfriend knew I was gay before I did.

My boyfriend told me that he loved me and that we would be together forever. Perhaps, at some point during the relationship, he believed it. But when he was fucking me, knowing that he had been seeing his ex while we were apart, and knowing that he intended to end the relationship, he was being dishonest. It hurt me more that he came back for one more lousy fuck before dumping me than actually getting dumped.

My priest found ways to get close to me. He stroked my hair. He phoned me up for no reason at all. He hugged me a little too often. He brushed against me whenever he walked past me. He also engaged me in conversations about sex, presumably to "guide me." He asked me if I was gay and, if I was, he would "help me." He asked me to trust him and he would "teach me." I was one of the lucky ones. By the time he finally tried to take me in his arms and kiss me and fondle me, I was old enough to resist.

I have learned lessons. I have learned that I must be true to myself. I have learned that adults and other people who control and influence my life are not always correct. I have learned to trust my instincts.

But I will go on trusting. That is my fate. I will try to find a special guy to spend forever with. I will try to make that special guy happy. I will probably be hurt, but I will try my hardest not let my past interfere with my future. I will strive to be open to love.

All I ask is that he understands. Maybe that is asking too much. But that is what I need.

Healing

2009-11-17T12:53:00.015-05:00

We stand in the bedroom, facing each other. You take my hands in yours and gaze into my eyes. I melt. The intensity is overwhelming and I look down, blushing. "What's the matter, sweetie?"

"Nervous, I guess." I grin sheepishly, embarrassed at my unease. "Not sure what to do."

"You're not a virgin. Why are you scared?"

"It was different before... with him." I try not to cry. Please don't let me ruin this moment, I silently pray.

"What do you mean, my love?"

I look at you, no longer able to hold back the tears. "He didn't like what we did together. He thought it was dirty and wrong." I look back down at the floor. You take me in your arms and I put my head on your shoulder.

"Aww, sweetie. I'm sorry he did that to you. I'm sorry you were hurt."

"He usually just pushed me onto my stomach and buried my head in the pillow." I laugh through the tears. "I just wanted him to kiss me and let me know that everything was alright." I sigh and try to stop crying. I don't want it to happen like this. I want this moment to be perfect. But instead, I am spoiling everything. "I wanted him to hold me afterward and tell me that he loved me. But he couldn't. He didn't love me when we were doing that. He thought he was disgracing me."

"He was a sick piece of shit. He should be shot for treating you like that." You take my chin in your hands and lift my face so that we are looking at each other again.

Again, I melt. "Sweetie, there is nothing wrong or dirty with what we're going to do. I want to show you how wonderful it can be when two men make love."

"But what should I do?"

"What would you like to do?" you say with a lecherous chuckle.

I smile through the tears and unbutton your shirt. You shrug it off and take me back into your arms. The feel of your warm, muscular chest against mine is exhilarating. "I love you, sweetheart."

You whisper in my ear, "This time it's all about you, sweetie. I want to show you how much I love you. I want to heal the wounds."

Undressing me is easy. I'm wearing nothing but a towel. I am fresh from the shower after my long flight. You give it a slight tug and it falls away. I bite my lip, nervous that you will not like my skinny twink body, but I can tell from the look on your face that you approve. My cock is so hard that it points to the ceiling. It is pressing against my tummy.

"Jump into bed," you say as you remove your jeans. You, too, are already hard. You slide on top of me and kiss me passionately. This is what I have always wanted. This is the way it is supposed to be.

Finding my voice

2009-11-09T14:50:00.003-05:00

If I never spoke again, I would be perfectly happy. I hate the sound of my voice. Hate how it rings in my ears when I speak. Hate that my mother hated my "gay voice." That's why I write. Listen to me. Understand me. This is all I have to give.

Solace

2009-10-04T12:27:00.000-04:00

I lie on the sofa, a little sad and lonely. I’m on my stomach with my back to the world. The door opens and it is you. Without saying a word, you come in and lie on top of me. You cover me like a blanket, your weight an anchour to reality. I drift off to sleep with you shielding me from the world.

Later, I wake up and I feel you reaching beneath me and I lift up just enough to allow you to undo my jeans. You lightly kiss the back of my neck, and then you rise up on your knees and lower your own jeans. You moisten your finger and massage me then you enter, slowly, softly, gently. You hold me tight. It is more an act of solace than one of sex. Soon, I feel you thrust more deeply and shudder as you finish, quietly, tenderly, with love.

Not a word has been spoken but volumes have been conveyed.

Devastating

2009-09-17T05:28:00.001-04:00

I could so easily fall in love with you. I have already fallen in love with you. Deep and hard. I can’t sleep at night because I want you. I can’t sleep at night because I can never have you. Love is lovely. Unrequited love is devastatingly lovely.

Unrequited love is self-fulfilling – unnecessary to consummate because the impossibility of such a love has rendered the act superfluous to the pain and yearning, which is the very heart of such a love.

Love for the sake of love – agape. Thomas Jay Oord has defined agape as "an intentional response to promote well-being when responding to that which has generated ill-being.” Ill-being, being hurt by the one that you love. One that has ignored the love you have offered repeatedly, one who would use you and let you go.

One who is not worthy of the love you have to give, but one whom you can not stop loving. One who is inappropriate, who will never be the right one, but who might forever be the only one.

I can not protect my heart from such a love. I can only try to avoid the consequences.

It was wonderful, then it wasn't (8/31/09)

2009-09-09T18:53:00.001-04:00

It was wonderful. I fell asleep alone, wishing he was with me. During the night, I was awakened by a warm body cuddled behind me and a familiar arm draped across my body. At first, I thought nothing of it and I grabbed his arm and hugged it closer to me. We had spent so much time together that it was more natural for him to be there than not. Slowly, it dawned on me that I should be alone. I shrieked with joy and wriggled around to face him.

He had flown all the way up here to be with me for just one day. How wonderful was that! I kissed every inch of his face and then let him know how much I appreciated his visit in the best way I knew how. I fell asleep in his arms, happy that he loved me enough to make the trip.

The next morning, we had breakfast on the deck. Marc gave mum a pasta maker and that was the last I saw of him all morning. I didn’t mind though. I was happy to see them having fun together.

In the afternoon, we went for a walk. Marc was quiet and I could tell there were things on his mind. He said it could wait until I was back in the city and he didn’t want to spoil the rest of my holiday. How could I let that go? I pressed until he finally opened up to me.

Marc is unsure of our relationship. He thinks it is unfair to me to be so serious at such a young age. He thinks I will resent being tied down to him. I tried to explain that, with his hours at the restaurant, I have plenty of time to be with friends and have my own full life. I have school and swimming, and I have my writing and my music.

I have no desire to be with anyone else. I don’t understand the need to be with multiple partners, especially since he fulfills me more than I had ever hoped for. It’s a dick and a hole. End-of-story. How is an infinite variety of cocks going to make me happier than I already am? I have no desire for meaningless sex with strangers. I want to be with someone I love and trust. I could never do the things we do together with someone to whom I was not emotionally connected.

And that’s the problem. Marc thinks I am too emotional. I am too deeply committed to a relationship he is sure will not last. He feels he is being sucked in and will only be hurt in the end.

He is afraid. This I know whether he admits it or not. He does not want the easy conversation with my mother. He does not want to fit in to my family. He does not want to find himself loving me and losing me.

What can I do? I have tried to convince him of my love and commitment, but he is so sure that this won’t work that he is going to sabotage it. I can see the axe falling and I have no choice but to wait and be massacred.

Good bye summer, Hello Fall

2009-09-07T11:12:00.002-04:00

Good bye beach, good bye surfing, good bye dancing on the deck. Hello NYC, hello school, hello new friends and old.

Connections

2009-09-03T20:49:00.006-04:00

Is it possible to find a true relationship on the internet? Can you really connect with someone on a meaningful level via twitter?

Two days ago, I would have said no. Today, as I sit here missing my friend, I feel I must reconsider.

Perhaps it is the safety one finds in anonymity. Perhaps it is the security of knowing that distance is insurmountable. I only know that while he is out of contact, I feel like I have lost someone dear.

Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe it was the knowledge that he would be gone that allowed him to take liberties. Maybe he was just playing with me.

Me? I wanted to kiss him and hold him and gently rub his aching tummy.

I know I shouldn’t be such a weepy old thing. I’m sure he had more important things on his mind than his twitter buddy.

Good byes are so hard, so unsettling. I wanted so much more but what can you attain with words only? Cold, impersonal? No, not really. Satisfying? No, not really.

A Haiku for RP

2009-09-03T12:51:00.001-04:00

I miss you today

More than I did yesterday

More than I can bear

The Canvas of Your Soul

2009-09-01T18:20:00.011-04:00

I will start by reading the words of your poem with my lips. I will trace each letter with my tongue knowing your meaning from their flavour.

Then I will find the hourglass of your soul and sift the sand through my mouth. I will pluck the flowers gently with my teeth, and I will comprehend your tender years.

I will find your sin, hard and black, and taste the depth of your pain.

I will discover the phoenix and savour its beauty. I will trace each quill with my tongue, and delight in its sensual curves. I will take just a moment to nibble on what the tail feathers encompass.

My lips will journey down to where the ghosts reside, playful in their hidden lair. I will tickle each with my tongue, first the pink and then the blue, edging ever closer.

And when I have finished exploring the canvas of your skin, I will be yours and I will find what I love the most.

Him - A Love Letter

2009-08-29T20:51:00.002-04:00

I want to wake up cuddled against him, feeling his warm breath on the back of my neck. I want to wriggle around until I face him, afraid that my breath is offensive, but not be allowed to free myself until he has thoroughly kissed me awake. I want to wake up to coffee and homemade blueberry muffins out on the deck, laughing and talking with him and my family and friends.

I want to run down to the beach and swim and surf. I want to lie in the hot sand next to him, his hand on my belly as we doze in the sunshine. I want to take the trolly into town for lunch, holding hands with him as we walk down the street. I want to go into the tourist shops and buy silly tee shirts and puka shell necklaces. I want to walk back home along the shore, stopping at the gay section of the beach where we can kiss and play with no fear of recrimination.

I want sit on the deck as the sun sets behind us, writing in my blog while he and mum prepare dinner. I want to hear them talking, realising that they are learning to love and respect each other. I want to see our neighbours crowding around our dinner table knowing that they accept my relationship with him. I want to get a little bit drunk on good red wine and play footsies with him under the table.

I want to cuddle on the couch with him watching an old movie on television as the rain patters on the deck outside. I want him to feed me chocolate and marshmallows and suck on his fingers as he places each morsel in my mouth

I want to go up to my room and climb into bed with him. I want to put my head on his shoulder and talk about the day until our desire overtakes us then I want him to tilt my face up to his and kiss me. I want to make love to him, passionate, yet giggling, because we have to be discreet in such a full house. I want to cuddle up to him, spent and happy from our day together. I want to fall asleep in his arms, safe from all of the harm that is in the world.

I want him to come back. I don’t want this summer to end.

Without Marco

2009-08-29T04:20:00.003-04:00

I find myself searching for sad songs. Songs that speak of longing and despair which, of course, is utter nonsense. We will only be separated for a week or so, we’ve been apart that long before. This time, though, it is different. This summer has evoked a passion between us that did not previously exist. It has also brought a time of family and friends, and a sense of closeness that I thought I could never experience.

When I went to California to visit my Auntie for two weeks in June, we had been together for five months. I was sure I was falling in love but it was so new to me. Still, I missed him terribly. In July, when we had been together for six months, our relationship progressed to a level of intimacy that most do not experience in their lifetime. I knew then that I was in love and I felt a freedom and a joy that was exhilarating and earth-shaking.

I also felt a disdain from my mother that I knew was there but was heretofore, hidden. She did not want to believe that I was gay, even though she knew it in her heart long before I did. Over the last couple of months, she has spent time with Marco and has learned to appreciate his kindness and generosity. She sees how much he loves me and realises that, with his guiding hand I am becoming the man I was meant to be.

Living together this summer has taught me to be less selfish and to be more forgiving. I have learned to love and be loved. I have learned to accept help and to be proud of my accomplishments.

Marc had to return to his job, but I was in too much pain to go with him. He left this morning and I feel so alone. Of course, it has been a rather gloomy day, sent to me to match my mood. He left three notes for me, one which I will open tonight, the other two when I am again feeling blue. He also left a little package but told me I am not to open it until Monday.

I also tucked a note into his suitcase reminding him of how much I love him and how much he means to me. He found it when he unpacked, but he said he hasn’t opened it yet. He is saving it until Monday, when he won’t have to go to work and will have time to dwell on how much he misses me. I am jealous that my friends have already eaten at the restaurant. They said he was quiet and just a bit sad. The restaurant was busy they said, and Marc had mentioned that he was glad that he didn’t have time to be too gloomy.

I will be flying back next week. I don’t think I could take a long drive just yet. School starts just after Labor Day and I need to get ready. School also means that I will be spending some nights in the dorm. Well, it means that I should be spending nights in the dorm. I don’t think I will, though, unless the pressures of exams and papers preclude being with him.

This will be an interesting week. I will spend time contemplating the great love of my life and my luck in finding him before I could screw up. I can’t surf or swim because of the broken ribs, but I can sit and type. I guess the blog will progress as well as the novel. Unfortunately, I will only be writing the depressing scenes.

Broken Ribs

2009-08-24T22:41:00.007-04:00

Poor Marco, he spent the entire day fretting on the beach while Caitlin and I surfed. He was so scared that something might happen to one of us. He saw the board hit me and knock me into the water.

He tried to get to me but I was too far out. Marc can’t swim and it was almost a double catastrophe because he got hit by a wave. Thankfully, he was pushed toward the shore and was able to regain his footing before the next big wave hit. I was tumbled around before I could get my bearings. I think that was when I cut my nose. At first, I felt fine and I kept on surfing. As the tide receded, the waves were not as well formed, and it became difficult to get a good ride so Cait and I headed in.

I hurt like hell and my ribs were turning lovely colours – red, purple, blue, and yellow – I became the rainbow flag. Talk about showing off my sexual identity! We went out to dinner and, by the time we were through, I was having trouble breathing. A quick call to da and mum had me in the car on the way to the hospital.

My da was already gone when I got back from surfing. I wish he had been there. He could have been with me in the hospital and probably gotten me through faster. They gave me an MRI and said I had broken ribs but no internal damage. The cut on my nose was superficial and did not need stitches.

So, here I sit, the waves are not as dramatic as they were yesterday, but still very surfable. But not by me. Cait took the day off and we sat on the deck and talked. I was supposed to drive back to the city but there is no way I could take a long car ride, even if Marc drove. And there is no way my poor tranny could take it if Marc drove…

Marc called his grandfather and it looks like we are both staying on for a few more days. YAY. If I’m not better in a few days, Marc will fly back without me. If I can’t drive by Labor Day, I will fly back to the city in time for school.

Would I have given up the surfing knowing that the little kid was going to aim his board at me and smack right into my ribs? No. It was one of the best days of surfing this summer.

I have a secret love.

2009-08-22T10:03:00.005-04:00

I guess it’s just a crush, really. A schoolboy infatuation. But I think about him a lot, and I (know) hope he thinks about me. I don’t know how to contact him, but I think he reads my blog, so every day I look to see if he’s left me a message.

Did he email me today? Perhaps he sent me a tweet. Nothing.

I know it won’t amount to anything, but a boy can dream.

‘Out’ at the barbeque

2009-08-21T00:26:00.001-04:00

This evening we went to a barbeque at our neighbours’ house. The daughter has always had a crush on me but, up until last summer, I had a girlfriend. She’s a couple of years younger than me but I always knew that if I was straight, she would be my type. She reminds me of Hayley Mills in the original Parent Trap – kind of boyish and cute.

I had fallen asleep so Mum, Cait, Aidan, and Michael went on without us. We showed up 15 minutes later and everything seemed ok, except there was whispering here and there. People were just beginning to realize that Aidan and Michael were a couple. Then in we walk – holding hands! The daughter’s jaw dropped open, the mother’s eyes popped out of her head, and the general conversation came to a screeching halt.

The mother tried to choke back her surprise. After a few stuttering attempts at speech, she was able to welcome us. Mum just sat there with a tight-lipped smile pasted onto her face.

Mum and Marco thought I was asleep.

2009-08-20T23:01:00.001-04:00

“Does anyone want some lunch? I can make something and let you know when it’s ready.” Mum said to us. Michael and Aidan were both hungry, and Cait was still in the water. I had been asleep on the blanket but was beginning to regain consciousness.

“Kiki? Are you hungry? Marco said. I ignored him, not having found my voice yet after my long snooze. “He’s still asleep. He didn’t sleep well last night. He was up and on the computer at 4:30.” Marc said to mum.

“You call him Kiki? He lets you get away with it?” Mum said.

“Yeah, but he said he’d punch anyone else who called him that. I usually don’t call him that in public. Don’t let him know.”

“I think it’s cute. Do you mind if I sit down and talk with you for a minute?”

“Sit. What’s up?”

“Marco, when I first met you a couple of weeks ago, I was pretty cold to you. I want you to know that it wasn’t you that I was upset with. It has been hard for me to accept that Ciar is gay, although I think I knew it before he did.”

“That’s ok; it must be hard to accept that your only son is not going to have the life you want for him.”

“No, it’s not ok. You didn’t deserve to be treated that way. I want you to know that I’m glad that Ciar met you. I’ve seen the way you look at him and I can tell you really care.”

“I love him more than I ever thought I could love anyone. It scares me because he’s so young, but I’m willing to take a chance.”

“Please look out for him, he’s always been too naïve and trusting. He’s lucky to have found you.”

“No, I’m the lucky one.”

The beach and then home

2009-08-19T18:36:00.002-04:00

We went to the beach just south of where we usually go. It is not officially a ‘gay beach’ but everyone who is gay just happens to go there.

Marco is so horny today; he had his hands all over me when we were lying on the sand. I felt uncomfortable because Aidan was there (he is my uncle, after all) but also very turned on. I was glad that I was wearing board shorts; a Speedo wouldn’t have contained me. Even with baggy shorts, I found that I had to go into the water to hide my embarrassment. Of course, Marco followed me in and took even more liberties in the water. I think he has a good excuse to learn to swim now. We can get away with a lot more if we are farther from the shore.

We left the beach around 2:00 and luckily no one was home when we got there. We headed straight to my bedroom with just a quick stop in the kitchen for cool drinks. I hadn’t made my bed yet so we were in it as soon as we could rip our swim suits off. It was very liberating to not have to worry about being loud. We’ve been here since Sunday and we are always conscious that mum and Cait are right down the hall.

My tongue caressed every inch of Marco’s sizzling hot body. We hadn’t even take time to shower and he tasted like sand and sun and salt – every thing that I love about the beach. I enjoy making Marc groan. It is the one time when I have absolute power over him. He was moaning so loud as my mouth engulfed his cock that I was afraid they could hear us on the beach.

When He had finally had enough, he grabbed me and flopped me on my belly. He is so strong that I had no choice but to relinquish control to him. The energy that Marco had stored up while playing on the beach was quickly released with the pounding that he gave me. He made up for his selfishness by sweetly sucking me. He took a long drink of ice water before he began and his cool mouth quickly assuaged the heat of my passion.

It is rather tantalising to be sitting on the deck and writing this knowing that mum is right inside the door with Marc. They are getting dinner together and I can hear them talking as I type. Everyone else is out here on the deck with me. If only they knew. Again, I am thankful for baggy shorts and a strategically placed laptop.

Haiku

2009-08-19T00:38:00.002-04:00

Sitting on the beach
Naked in my aloneness
Sand is in my hair

Another very hot day

2009-08-18T18:07:00.006-04:00

I made another attempt at teaching Marco to swim, this time with the help of Aidan and Caitlin. He’s starting to get the hang of it. All the boogie boarding this morning and yesterday has made him more comfortable in the water. Maybe he won’t drown me after all. And I was beginning to think he didn’t love me anymore after he almost killed me yesterday.

I had to remind him that this is a family beach. He kept grabbing me when we were in the water and he wanted to cuddle when we were lying on the blanket. I guess this tropical weather has us all overly ardent. Maybe tomorrow Aidan, Michael, Marc, and I will go over to the gay beach.

We stopped in Ogunquit after breakfast and went to my favourite store, Spoiled Rotten. Marc bought me a pink baseball cap that says Spoil Me. PINK! It’s actually kind of cute. Cait also got a pink one, and Michael got one in blue.

I can’t imagine what Aidan and Michael were doing last night but their huge bed collapsed, spilling them onto the floor. I don't think they weigh more than 200 pounds between them. What could two guys do with 200 pounds that could collapse an antique bed that has been around for 150 years? Meanwhile, Marc and I are cuddling up in a twin bed with no mishaps to speak of. Mum just goes about her day with her lips tightly clenched.

We have steaks to grill tonight and Aidan and Michael will be doing the work. Marco will make his famous sautéed mushrooms but, other than that, he’s not getting stuck in the kitchen again.

Have to go now, I promised Marc I would help chop the mushrooms and onions.

News from the beach

2009-08-17T22:04:00.003-04:00

I just have a few minutes to tell everyone about my day.

I had a long talk with Marco about what he said yesterday. He said not to worry – he’s a fool in love.

It was hot, hot, hot on the beach today. We spent the whole day in the water. Marco is getting so dark – talk about sex on a stick. He is handsome anyway but he looks devastating with a tan. His Italian complexion is making the rest of us look like vampires. My whole Irish clan is keeping the sunscreen companies in business. I will get dark, but slowly or I will suffer. Cait already looks tanned, she’s been here all summer.

Not much to report except, oh yeah, MARCO ALMOST DROWNED ME. Let’s just say the swimming lessons were not a great success. We went out where it would be deep enough for him to float and, when a big wave hit him, he grabbed me and almost pulled me under. He’s actually quite good on a boogie board, though.

We went surfing for a little while after it got dark. Marco stood on the shore and fretted about us getting hurt. There were four strong swimmers in the water, only Cait and I surfed, though. Aidan has given up trying or perhaps he didn’t want to look silly in front of Michael.

When we got here last night, mum suggested that Aidan and I share a room and Michael and Marco share a room. Aidan turned to walk away and said they were going to a motel. He would not let his sister dictate with whom he could sleep. Then he said that maybe they should stay and, as soon as everyone was in bed we would play Chinese fire drill and switch rooms. He added that mum should knock in the morning, just in case. Mum ended up saying we should do as we please.

Marco cooked paella tonight. Yum. Mum said that was her favourite so we shopped for shrimp and lobsters and clams and mussels. He’s trying so hard to impress mum. I made the appetizers – yay me! Prosciutto with fresh figs and melon, and veggies with home made ranch dip. I also marinated prawns and grilled them.

Tomorrow, we’re going to try and catch the high tide in the morning and go surfing before breakfast. The surfing isn’t so great on the east coast, but we’re having fun. We’re supposed to have storms at the end of the week. That’ll make for some good waves. I told Marco about lobster benedict at The Egg and I, so we’ll be going there for breakfast.

I’m going to get very fat if I don’t watch out. Right now, we’re sitting on the deck eating strawberry shortcake with fresh biscuits and home made whipped cream. I'm going back for seconds.

More later from the beach.

He thinks I will outgrow my love for him

2009-08-17T00:27:00.002-04:00

Marco said something today that was surprising and upsetting. He said that, when things are tough and his mind goes to places that it probably should not, he wonders if it wouldn’t be prudent to end our relationship. He said that he sometimes thinks that I will not stay with him and he should just end it before I do. He thinks that I am too young to be involved in a serious monogamous relationship and that I should be enjoying my life rather than be involved with a guy who is nine years older.

We saw Celtic Thunder a few months ago and when Damian McGinty sang Puppy Love, he became very reticent. Later he told me it was because I am so young and vulnerable, and he sometimes feels like he is taking advantage of me. I try to reassure him that I am right where I want to be.

The day we met was the day I became legal. Had we met a few months earlier, he could have been arrested for rape. Of course, we knew each other for three months before we began dating and it was even longer before we made love. I was a virgin when we met. I had dated a few guys my own age and had done some stuff, but I had never been in love before and I had never had sex.

One of the comments that was left here on my blog was a question of whether I have replaced my dependence on Caitlin with a dependence on Marc. I do rely on him for so many things. He keeps me grounded, much the way Cait used to do. He gives me a safe platform from which I can explore and experiment. His love is like a safety harness for when I bungee jump into life. He wraps his affection around me like bubble wrap around a precious possession.

Marco is smart and sexy and funny. He is my anchor and a light in the dark recesses of my soul. He lifts me up when I am down and encourages me when I am afraid. He makes me examine my motives and question my actions.

He thinks I will outgrow my love for him. I will not.

Marco doesn't know how to swim.

2009-08-15T19:06:00.000-04:00

I thought I would have fun trying to teach him how to surf, but he doesn’t even know how to swim. Now I know why he didn’t want to go into the pool on Monday. Oh boy, one more thing for mum to criticize about him. He’s too old, he’s Italian, he hasn’t completed a four-year college. Give it a rest, mum. Now I know why Caitlin is alone.

Anyway, back to swimming and surfing. Cait is the best surfer – she is so graceful while I am a little bit clumsy. I am the better swimmer, though. There is just something about being in the water. In The Swan, Prince Albert says, “Think what it means to be a swan. To glide like a dream on the smooth surface of the lake, and never go to the shore. On dry land, where ordinary people walk, the swan is awkward, even ridiculous. When she waddles up the bank she painfully resembles a different kind of bird, n'est-ce-pas?” That’s how I feel sometimes.

I hope we will have family competitions again this year. Marco is a runner so he will have a chance to win the land contests. I would feel very bad if he couldn’t compete at all. Aidan is always my biggest competitor in the water, but I am bigger and that is an advantage. Aidan can’t surf. Every year, we try to teach him but he is too afraid to stand up on the board. He always wins the boogie board competition, though. I don’t know what Aidan’s new boyfriend is good at. I hope he can compete in something.

I will try to teach Marc to swim. He is eager to learn and there is finally something that I can do better than him. He is always teaching me something – either explaining how to make the best scrambled eggs or how to ride his racing bike. Or how to be exactly what I am.

My Sister Caitlin

2009-08-14T19:28:00.004-04:00

Marco seemed to be quite taken with my twin sister Caitlin. We are like bookends, similar yet opposite in so many ways. I am creative she is logical. I am emotional, she is pragmatic. I am passionate, she is composed. I am weak, she is strong.

Cait is an old soul, put on earth to guide those of us who can not find our way. She will be the doctor or, more likely, a shrink. I will be the hack writer.

I think Marc was surprised at how much we look alike, at least before I cut my hair. She is not as tall as I am, around 5’6” or 7”, but our faces are very similar. Good for her, not so good for me. She is a beauty, with bright green eyes to go with her blonde hair. In high school, all the boys followed after her drooling and tripping over themselves to be noticed. Good for me because there was always eye candy to be had. Bad for her because she knew they were only interested because of her looks.

She insists on being alone even though there are guys at her school who are crazy for her. I am sure they are not worth her time, I am sure they do not know what a prize she is.

We complement each other. We are two sides of the same coin.

Oh, yeah, I am a swimmer, she is a diver.

Funny (at least I thought so)

2009-08-13T17:24:00.003-04:00

I was on the computer for quite a while this afternoon. The weather is crappy and everyone is just being lazy. I've mostly been working on my writing and trying to correspond with my friend in Ireland.

We have a shaky internet connection (we're piggy-backing off of Marco's parents' system upstairs) and sometimes it is downright stubborn. After being frustrated because my IMs were coming in slowly, I yelled out, "God Damn It, I'm just not refreshing."

Marco said, "Well, go take a shower."

I know, lame, it's one of those days...

Dealing

2009-08-12T18:28:00.004-04:00

I pulled the other entries from my blog because people can be very cruel. I will probably switch the location of my blog because of the hatred. I wish the location had not been published, I know some like what I write but not everyone does.

I think what I find most comical is that people jumped to so many conclusions. I am a swimmer and I have curly blond hair. So what. I could look like a leprechaun for all you know. You have imposed your needs and desires on me. I must be beautiful, I must be tall, I must be Adonis.

I am not. I am okay looking, not too terribly tall (5'10") and I am not good enough for my college team, although I do work out with them. I also have some trophies from when I had a horse. I guess that must make me híppos leukós.

I am terribly in love with Marco, and I know I am sort of sappy about that. I have never been in love before and I have never been with a guy before. I know I shouldn't brag but I can't help myself sometimes. We are going to dinner now, and I hope Marc can join us. I will feel terribly alone if he doesn't even if he is just a few feet away in the kitchen.

Bye for now.

Aidan and Michael in NYC

2009-08-12T18:06:00.006-04:00

Aidan and Michael have arrived. We've gotten them settled upstairs for a nap. Michael is so cute, ginger hair and blue eyes, and about 5'5", which is good because Aidan is only about 5'8". Michael is 23 years old and has just finished up his studies. I think they're madly in love -- at least I hope so. They have been together for a few months and they are already talking about moving in together.

Marc and I are trying to talk Paul and Stevie into going to the beach with us next week. Paul is having trouble getting the time off from work and Stevie won't go without him. I asked mum and she is resigned to having all of us there. We'll have to rent an SUV if we all go. Can you say Gay Pajama Party???

Mum invited Marc and me to stay on Monday evening -- a step in the right direction. I think Caitlin has worked on her, also my Da. It's just silly that she can accept Aidan being gay but not me. It can't be because I won't have a family because Marco wants kids some day. And Cait will have more than enough kids to make her happy. I think she always wanted more brothers and sisters. I was always happy that it was just the two of us. I couldn't have shared her with sibs.

Sometimes when I think about Cait, I think I couldn't have lived if she wasn't in my life. Not like the Parker Posey character in The House of Yes or anything sick like that, but she always understood me, and never let me get away with anything.

Anyway, more later. Aidan and Michael will be waking up and Marc has promised a lavish dinner. BTW, the zuppe de pesche was wonderful. I think that sealed the deal with mum

In My Childhood Room, Part 2

2009-08-11T22:43:00.011-04:00

He stroked Ciaran’s back and massaged his neck as Ciaran continued to tease the head of his cock with his tongue. “No, no, no, no. Stop. Please. I don’t want to come yet. Come here.” Ciaran returned to Marco’s arms. He looked up into Marco’s deep brown eyes and smiled.

“God, you are so good at that. Are you sure I’m the first guy you’ve sucked off”?

“The first time I blew you it didn’t go so well, remember? I’ve just managed to learn what you like.”

Marco turned on his side to face Ciaran. “You are so sweet. Have I told you recently how much I love you?”

“Even better. You told my mum.” The day before had been rather harrowing. Ciaran’s mother had said that she believed Ciaran was “just going through a stage.”

Marco told her that believing that had driven a wedge between her and her son. “You will drive him away. He is what he is, and that is gay. He means so much to me and I will do everything I can to protect him. My family is the most important thing in my life and they love Ciar like another son. I don’t want Ciar to miss out on his family and he wants me to be a part of it. He misses Caitlin so much but he can’t deal with your fucking attitude. Please accept him. Please accept our relationship. I love him.”

Ciaran’s mother was shocked at the outburst from Marco. “Well, you’re too old for him. Even if he is gay, he needs to be with someone his own age.”

“Mum, you are eight years younger than da. You had Cait and me when you were 19.” Ciaran said. "I love Marco, he is the best thing that ever happened to me. Please just get to know him. He’s wonderful. Just wait until tonight.”

Marco had agreed to cook for the family and they had shopped for everything before leaving the city. They had filled a cooler with the freshest fish so that Marco could make his signature zuppe de pesce, Ciaran’s favourite.

“She needed to know how I feel about you.” Marco lightly caressed Ciaran’s chest, slowly working his hand down to Ciaran’s cock.

In My Childhood Room, Part 1

2009-08-11T21:12:00.007-04:00

“Bye Ciar, see you next week.” Ciaran’s dad yelled as he left the house.

“Bye Da. See you,” he replied. Ciaran lounged in his bed, the first time in many months that he had stayed there. Knock, knock, he heard softly on his door. “Da must want to say good bye in person,” he thought to himself.

“Kiki?” It was Marc, no one else called him that.

“Marc? What are you doing in here?” he said as the door opened and Marco stepped into the room. “I told mum that we would stay in our own rooms.”

“Your mom and sister left early this morning, and your dad just left. Unless you have siblings I didn’t know about, we’re alone.” Marco walked across the room wearing nothing but his underpants. “Move over,” he said to Ciaran.

Ciaran did what was requested, excited by having someone in his childhood bed for the first time. Marco took him in his arms and lightly kissed his mouth. “No fair, you’ve already brushed your teeth,” Ciaran said.

“Not fair for me, go get washed up,” Marco said.

Ciaran got up and went into the bathroom. He was glad he had brought everything he needed to prepare himself. He hadn’t been sure that they would be invited to stay with his parents and he wanted to be ready in case they had stayed in a motel.

He returned to the bedroom and joined Marco in bed.

Have you ever had a guy in this bed before”? Marco asked him.

“No. Remember I wasn’t out until after I left high school.”

Marco took Ciaran in his arms and kissed him. “What if my mother forgot something and comes back, or my father has no appointments”? Ciaran knew the possibilities of either scenario were small but the thought of being discovered added excitement to their encounter.

Ciaran tugged at Marco’s underwear and Marco obliged by lifting his butt. He slipped down the bed and took Marco’s swollen cock in his mouth.

“Ah, Kiki, careful. I am so hot for you. Don’t make this end before it even begins.”

YAY! Uncle Aidan is Coming Back

2009-08-10T21:28:00.006-04:00

Aidan and Michael will be here on Wednesday. They will be staying upstairs with Stevie and Paul for a few days then, next Sunday, the four of us are driving up to Maine. Good thing Aidan is small and, from what he tells me, Michael is pretty much a pocket gay, otherwise they would never fit into the back seat of my car.

Aidan is my mother's brother. He is only 25 years old -- closer to my age than to mum, who is his older sister. He was the unexpected baby of the family and was spoiled rotten by his three older sisters. I don't think I have ever seen him not be in a good mood. When he is around, everybody is happier, every situation is comical, and every day is a holiday.

Aidan is responsible for so much of what is good in my life. Last summer, he took me to P-Town for a few weeks, then brought me down to NYC. That was my first real experience with any type of gay lifestyle. He said he had known that I was gay for a few years, but had waited until I was comfortable enough with my sexuality to bring it up. He encouraged me to come out to mum and dad, and was there for the inevitable melt-down. I think mum blames herself for me being gay because "it runs in the family."

He met his best friend Paul when he was doing graduate work here in NYC a few years ago. Paul is now a psychiatrist and Aidan is a psychologist. We stayed in Brooklyn with Paul and Stevie last summer when we came to the city and Stevie and I became great friends. It was good to have a support base in place when I moved down here to go to school, especially two out guys.

Paul is Marco's cousin. Last fall, Paul finally got an apartment in the "family compound," the apartment building that their grandfather owns in Manhattan. I met Marco through Paul and Stevie.

So, Aidan helped me get comfortable with being gay, helped me to come out to my parents, and introduced me to my boyfriend's cousin who, in turn, introduced me to Marco. Great guy, huh?

Can you imagine the gay old time we'll be having at the beach? Mum will have to paste a smile on her face and just get over it.

Driving Home

2009-08-09T22:55:00.015-04:00

Tomorrow, Marco and I are driving to CT. It is time for mum to finally meet him. I had a long conversation with Caitlin and she thinks mum will be there and be ok with it. She could have gone back to Maine already, but it seems she has found an excuse to stay on at home.

She has been living in denial for too long. I would like to take Marco up to the beach house for a week before I go back to school but it would be awkward to go up there and stay in Ogunquit and not see them. Anyway, I want to stay at the house. I don't care if Marco has to sleep in his own room, in fact, I would feel uncomfortable sleeping with him with the family all around me. And that's only sleeping.. I can bunk in with Cait and he can have my room.

Cait is a saint. Don't think I could have made it this far without her. I am more eager for Marco to meet her than the 'rents. She is my mirror image, the missing element of my heart and soul. I wish we were going to the same school. This is the first time in our lives we have ever been separated for any length of time.

I think I'll let Marco drive...

You told me to get a blog, so here it is

2009-08-09T03:02:00.007-04:00

I've been spending way too much time on DataLounge since I found it. They really can be a bunch of cranky old queens, except, of course, for Tigernan. They keep telling me to get a blog, so here it is. Enjoy it for what it is -- the inane ramblings of an 18-year-old student, living in New York City.

I am a student -- pre-med but, as was recently pointed out, pre-med is just an udergrad doing a lot of science and hoping to get into med school some day. I enjoy swimming but I'm not really good enough for the college team, and I am writing a novel.

Yeah, the novel. My friend Josh is writing a vampire novel. One of her characters is an 18 year-old guy. She based this minor character on me, so she said, and now I have co-opted this character for myself. His name is Ciaran and he is gay (duh). He is in love with Andreas, a 2000-year-old vampire with a human age of 52. From time to time I will give you snippets of this novel on a separate blog.

Like it or not, here I am

2009-08-09T02:46:00.004-04:00

I just cut off all of my hair. I don't know if it was ennui, frustration, or defiance, but there are big, fat blond curls all over the bathroom floor. Now, maybe, I'll get some respect. Now, nobody will want to make me into a woman.

Last night, while we were watching television, my boyfriend was playing with my hair. Later, when I went to the loo, I saw that he had given me ringlets. When we went to bed and made love, he grabbed my hair to turn my head so that he could kiss me. Don't get me wrong, I thought it was incredibly hot. I am just so sick of being defined by my looks.

I guess there are worse things I could have done with a pair of scissors.