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Found 83 results

  1. Woke up early this morning (too early for a Saturday [ah - just remembered re-reading this that I need to reset my alarm!]) and drove up to attend my Aunt's Memorial service. Took mom so she wouldn't have to ride with my brother -- that and I have a handicap sticker. The slideshow / video her oldest boy made with a bit of help from my brother was nice. Could have done without the ministers congregational recruitment blah blah that I found a bit out of place and inappropriate for the situation. Was a short but lovely service. Mom managed to get through it ok. Had a little dinner afterwards, provided by the "ladies of the church" in an attached building. Had a few short chats with those cousin's I knew I wouldn't want to strangle, then took mom home, swung by to see dad on my way out of town and wish him a Happy Father's Day, then came home. Heavy rains coming in over night with possibly damaging winds (70-80mph), possibly tennis ball sized hail, and -- because everything is still saturated and full -- another chance of flooding.
  2. ashes of June ... your eye are delighted for me firing my soul draining my mind.... when i see you.... my thoughts get drained.... my tears are gone .... my heart stops . i know i wont be able to be with u any more loving you is the only thing i can do for you ..... ashes of the June my heart is beating for you from deep inside... i collapse .... i ruined.... i my self got a sin of being a boy ... god??? if u exist then answer me why ain't i a person that i want to be?:(( i wish THERE WOULD BE JUST ONE GENDER . I lOVE yOU like now i'm dead man ... ❤️
  3. i count every hour every minute every second to see your face to touch your hand to feel your skin to see your delighted eyes to see your smile:) for just a second... i just want to die after these i want to take my last breath from your smell iwant to take my last look of your face i want to have my last touch of your skin i want to kiss your hand while dying,having your hand in my fist just let me die slowly... concentrated in your eyes.... yes, i want this.
  4. Better late than never might be the motto hanging over the entrance ... Oh well ... As the story continues to progress, maybe there'll be things you'd like to chat about, complain, moan. Whatever. First though, I've an announcement about Tony and Geoff, and the next few months. As a serial which is written as it's being posted, T&G needs discipline as well as enjoyment on my part. Over the past couple of episodes, that discipline has felt more like a constraint, something that holds me back from writing other things. So the next chapter, 17, about the meal, will be the last for a short while. It will finish Part 1 of Soul Music. I love the characters and I have plenty left to do with them, but I need a break. Both to do other things, and to recharge that part of my creative battery. I expect Geoff to be having that conversation with his mother sometime in July, probably as the opening chapter of Part 2. Sorry to keep you hanging on that one, but the meal seemed the only point at which I could call a temporary halt. @Parker Owens as my editor, and the person with the most invested in the story after me, has agreed with my decision. So, there it is. It will allow me to write more for GA - about Eric, amongst others, and another longish entry for the next anthology. In the meantime, there is one more chapter to write (and it may well turn out to be long one ). I hope you've enjoyed it so far and that you'll rejoin me when I announce the start of Part 2 in this thread.
  5. Drove up to see my Aunt this morning before she passes. Mom and I went over once I got into town. There was enough of an awareness that when mom said we were there, her breathing rate changed. Almost like she was struggling to the surface. I told her to relax -- that she didn't need to respond to us, and sat holding her hand. Told her I loved her. Weren't there too long, but by the time we left her breathing had settled back into a calm and regular (if shallow) pace. Her blood pressure (top number) was in the 50's when I left to come home. They expect she'll go this weekend. My youngest Aunt is, again, holding everything together for everyone else. Just once I'd like for her to be able to be the one to fall apart -- let someone else "hold it together" to help everyone else cope.
  6. Finally realized that I'm going to have to finish painting the loft the same way I started: playing songs of love and loss, grieving for my boy, and loosing myself in the painting. It's the only way the loft can get done and -- more importantly -- I think it's one of the things that has to be closed for me to let him go. Though I should have left Rebecca Ferguson's version of "I'll Count the Days" off the playlist. 😭 The other is for his headstone to finally be installed. Sent an email to the friend I'd been talking to. A couple of weeks ago she said it would a week or two before the 3rd one [since they F*d the first two] would be ready; then FOUR to SIX WEEKS before it got installed. I'm still hoping it's there in time for his birthday on Memorial Day. Finished the first coat and stopping for lunch, pain Rx (storms moving in), and a Xanax (because I'm not so stupid as to not realize I need one).
  7. For topics and themes in Changes (I'm honored to create the first story discussion forum for Promising Author, Mikiesboy )
  8. A "thank you" card from C's sister showed up in the mail today, to thank me for paying off the headstone. First time I've heard from her directly -- my other interactions have been with a mutual friend of C and his sis. Was nice to finally hear from her directly, but sad to know that she's still having a really really hard time with his passing. I know there are moments for me where a memory will catch me blindsided and rip my heart to pieces again, but for her it seems like that's still a constant state of being. 💔
  9. There are about a million ways to say those three words “I Love You.” Have you eaten? Sleep well. Drive safely. Grab a coat. These are some of the ways it’s said in my house. There are others, not as obvious, but we all know them when we hear them. And it’s not just that way with lovers and spouses, we do it with friends and family too. How are you? Really? Let me know when you get home. Let me buy you lunch. Because you’re family i’m glad you are in my village. i’m sorry. It’s been rocky for my family the last 3 weeks. i’ve heard, or said, everything i just listed. i can’t begin to tell you how important it is to say those things. They are life changing, life affirming phrases. They can restore faith, hope, and bolster love. i know that there are other ways to show love. We see those around us too. A simple hug, fixing a favorite meal, offering a ride to where you need to be, talking with someone in a PM, or by email. i’ve been on the receiving end of many of those during this rough patch as well. The simple act of reaching out was a show of caring, and it mattered. How do you show love; how do you say “I love you” without saying it? No matter how you do it, don’t forget to show and tell people you love them. no one read or edited this, any mistakes are mine many thanks to @MacGreg Sir, @MichaelS36 Sir, and @Mikiesboy for everything
  10. Need a vacation -- too much stress. Reading "Between the Shadow and the Soul" has brought back memories of my cub. Wish I knew where he was, but he stopped talking to me a couple of years ago. My cub is the one person I've loved with all my heart who I knew would never love me back the same way. He stayed in my apartment for about a month while he was trying to get things together. Always tried to be circumspect about when he was going out, to not hurt my feelings, but I always knew. Thing is, I loved him enough that I wanted him to be happy -- even if that happiness wasn't with me. It would have still killed a little bit of my soul had he found it though. Enough maudlin memories for the night.
  11. Went tot the performance of Ailey II last night that had originally been C's and my's big night out. Glad friends (IRL and online) encouraged me to go. I did have to leave at 2nd intermission, but that was because of my joints and not my mental state. If you ever get a chance to see them, or the main Alvin Ailey troupe, do so - they're wonderful. Touch & Agree was their second of the three sets. Music was about 2x as loud as it should have been, but overall it was an enjoyable evening -- barring my joints; and the little incident right at the start of the show. Their very first dance segment of their first set used a fog machine; which set off the smoke alarms❕ Took them a few minutes to get the fog cleared out and the alarms turned off (though probably not as long as it felt). I felt bad for the dancers, but they were able to start back up again like they hadn't been interrupted [they finished the first segment before the house lights came back on and the stage cleared]. Touch & Agree was moving in a way that all good art should be. Brought back the sweeter memories of my Boy, and made me smile. 💖 Did have a brief moment of sadness this morning when I woke up alone instead if with my Boy in my arms, but work distracted me from that. Still "candidate season" and the weather caused delays again today for the early morning outbound flight. Flight in tomorrow should be fine, but the return flight on Tuesday -- and the inbound flights for the last candidate -- could be... um... "interesting". They're predicting snow, and the line between a dusting and several inches is way too close to here for comfort.
  12. L gave me the number to the Memorial place that C's sis had used. She'd put down a down-payment on the headstone, but wasn't sure how she was going to pay for the rest of it. It's been such a busy week, I hadn't had time to call them until lunch today. Thay had to call his sis to get her verbal OK before talking to me (which I expected) and I paid off what was left on the headstone; was about what I was expecting. It was something I felt like I had to do for my Boy. I didn't expect the emotions that took a hold of me. Doing this was such a final thing - the period at the end of a painful sentence. And in the afternoon mail was the pamphlet from his funeral, and a DVD with a copy of the recording they took of his funeral. I think it will be awhile before I can watch that. Most days are better. I can look back and think of him and the time we did have together and smile, but.... I know there will always be that "but" -- those moments that sneak up on you from nowhere.
  13. For discussion of themes and topics of the story as it's posted. This is the first novella in AC Benus’ series about Simon and his journey towards understanding himself and the at times puzzling behavior of people around him. If you missed it the first time, be sure to follow the series from the beginning and catch the two previously unpublished stories which will round off this amazing tale. Find the story here: https://www.gayauthors.org/story/ac-benus/judastreenovellaone
  14. Got an email this evening from a mutual friend of C and his sister. His sis isn't doing that well dealing with the loss; neither am I to be honest. C was a very private person, with everyone it seems, so I spent the last hour trying to decide how much to say and what I shouldn't. I did say that he was a man I loved dearly, that we had been dating off and on the the last several years, and that he was someone I saw a future with. I included the last selfie he sent me (G-rated) and the pic of the flowers I took after I put them on his grave, along with the pic he sent me when we first started dating - a time that seems like it was yesterday, even though it was so many years ago.
  15. The Things They Carried is a wonderful book. It is a book about the Vietnam war, especially about a group of American soldiers. I've read a few books about the war, and I've always been fascinated about the treatment of those returning. No ticker tape parades for them. Bad things happened in that police action, I know. This book was written by Tim O'Brien. He himself is written into the story because he was there, yet it is fiction. And I cannot be positive, but I'm sure much of it is true, though it is fiction. It's an intense book of short stories which are masterfully melded together. Tom O'Brien is a talented writer. This book was nominated for the Pulitzer Prize. His style is clear and the language used is simple. Yet, it is emotional, you cannot, not continue, it is just that powerful. It is about men. Soldiers. The ugliness of war and their reaction to it was hard to read. So much so, there were times i had to put the book aside for a day. There are stories, for example, about Tim climbing a tree to pick up the parts of his friend, Curt Lemon that he could retrieve, and dropping them to the ground. Curt had been laughing one minute and then stepped on a mine. Rat Kiley's reaction after Curt's death, when they came across a lone baby water buffalo is difficult to read and imagine. I put the book down for a day at that point. But i think if you're a man you should read this. If you want to understand what men are capable of in good and bad times, you should read this. I think if you want to see beautiful writing you should read this. There is one interesting chapter called Good Form: It's time to be blunt. I'm forty-three years old, true, and I'm a writer now, and a long time ago I walked through Quang Ngai Province as a foot soldier. Almost everything else is invented. But it's not a game. It's a form. Right here, now, as I invent myself, I'm thinking of all I want to tell you about why this book is written as it is. For instance, I want to tell you this: twenty years ago I watched a man die on a trail near the village of My Khe. I did not kill him. But I was present, you see, and my presence was guilt enough. I remember his face, which was not a pretty face, because his jaw was in this throat, and I remember feeling the burden of responsibility and grief. I blamed myself. And rightly so, because I was present. But listen. Even that story is made up. I want you to feel what I felt. I want you to know why story-truth is truer sometimes than happening-truth. Here is the happening-truth. I was once a soldier. There were many bodies, real bodies with real faces, but I was young then and I was afraid to look. And now, twenty years later, I'm left with faceless responsibility and faceless grief. Here is story-truth. He was a slim, dead, almost dainty young man of about twenty. He lay in the center of a red clay trail near the village of My Khe. His jaw was in his throat. His one eye was shut, the other eye was a star-shaped hole. I killed him What stories can do, I guess is make things present. I can look at things i never looked at. I can attach faces to grief and love and pity and God. I can be brave. I can make myself feel again. "Daddy, tell the truth." Kathleen can say, "did you ever kill anybody?" And I can say, honestly, "Of course not." Or I can say, honestly, "Yes." I wrote the above chapter out because to me it is very telling, and i understand it. It is back and forth, yin and yang, it is much like war and Vietnam itself. The Things They Carried is a beautiful book. It is a book about human grace, horror, humanity, love, guilt and sorrow. I dare you to read it.
  16. I know I’ve said this before; I always wanted a marriage like my parents have. Of course, I knew it wouldn’t be traditional, given the fact I am Gay, but I wanted it all the same. As I hung with friends, played baseball and hockey, went through school, I came to realize I was often assuming a dominant position, and often asked to lead. It was sort of a natural thing. I ended up in school taking criminology and socio-legal studies, and received my degree. I went on to become a police officer and eventually a detective. While I was still a uniformed officer, I accepted who I was: a Dominant Sadist. I read and spoke to people and dipped my toes into the world of BDSM, and D/s. I met John, a friend and mentor who was also a cop at the time. I learned more and dated. Submissive men were attracted and attractive to me. Yet it was an unsettled life. The boys came and went. I still wanted to find, him—the one. I’ve written about that before, meeting tim. We have been together now for ten years, married for nine of them. We have had ups and downs. We have made mistakes, yet we remain together. Recently, when our anniversary was upon us, we talked about why and what our relationship is, and means. We both feel we are as strong as we are because of our chosen lifestyle: D/s. It is a journey. The relationship between us a living thing. Love needs tending. It needs thought and touch. It needs the everyday small things. There are few arguments in our house, because we both accept our roles within our relationship. When you accept that, there is little to fight about. In our case our life needs discipline, strictness, pain, honesty and above all else, it needs trust. tim’s trust and belief in me is at its strongest now, I think. It is a fine line, this place of Dom/boy/husbands. Yet, it can work. You both must want it and you must both be headed in the same direction. Our destination is the horizon. After ten years you’d think things and feelings would wane. Last night tim, was tired. I put him to bed with his natural calm and some reading. He fell asleep and when I returned, I settled him down. I lay with him, holding him to me. He pushed back and moved in my arms, telling me of his desire. Wiggling … still after all these years. Those feelings still strong between us. I whispered, “you need to sleep, boy.” There was a small sigh … Doms hate sighs! But I couldn’t help but smile as he snuggled back and replied, “Yes, Sir.” All is right in my world. I hope it is in yours. I wish you all a wonderful Christmas/Holiday Season and a joyous New Year.
  17. This is copied from a status update. Wasn't thinking clearly when I posted it, so put it there instead of here in the blog: My heart is broken this weekend. The man I had been dating off and on who lives about an hour away died last month -- and I just found out about it this Friday night; almost a month later. He works in retail and this is always a crazy time so not hearing from him for a bit wasn't unusual, but that bit got longer... then longer. When I sent him another txt on Friday evening it wouldn't go through, and something in the back of my mind said, "search online." That's when I found his obit. The day after we last talked he was the store getting groceries and collapsed. He died the next day of an aneurysm brought on by high blood pressure, which I know he had been treating. Funeral was just before Thanksgiving, and I missed it completely. wasn't even able to say goodbye. The biggest drawback of not being on any social media sites like Facebook. He was a private person, and I doubt he told his sister much about us; and without an online footprint how could she have found me? and if he didn't tell her, how would she have known to even look? He was my baby, my reason for being optimistic about the future; about our future together. We'd been taking things slow because he'd been burned so badly by his last relationship. We'd planned to get together after the holiday insanity passed; our first private time together -- all our other dates had been out in public, and we were limited to brief kisses and discretely holding hands (the joy of small town living in the South). I was finally going to tell him, "I love you" instead of just hinting around the edges. Now I'll never be able to do that. My only consolation is knowing that our last conversation we told each other that we made each other happy; something not easy for two people both fighting depression. I'm going to miss you my baby -- I already do, so so very much. "Daddy" is going to miss never being able to show his boy how much he meant to me. Never going to be able to hold you in my arms again, never taste your sweet lips on mine, never hold you close and snuggle up together. I love you C, and I always will. 😢 💔
  18. Have a friend who will take me to the cemetery where C is burred tomorrow. Taking the spray of flowers to lay on his grave, along with a not-too-personal note. If I'd had more time, I would have had them get roses that were a bit more lavender than pink, and bit whiter than cream --- but considering this was essentially a rush, as I want to see him to say goodbye before Christmas, this will do. I still think it's lovely. Lots to say to him tomorrow. I hope that somewhere, he can hear me. I miss you baby; your Daddy will always miss his Boy.
  19. MichaelS36

    For tim

    For tim You are this beautiful creature that has graced my life A zephyr that blows softly lifting nary a hair I cannot cage you or keep you from those who love you Water that runs unfettered through my fingers You love is like the grains of sand on a long white beach Quicksilver that flows, cannot be molded or shaped Your radiance cannot be closeted or hidden Clouds that skim playfully through the blue above How can I lock up the wind? *********************************************************************
  20. Mojo A Post-Modern Satire and Sex Comedy by AC Benus I am so happy to open this topic for discussion of this amazing work from AC Benus. I am also lucky to have been able to be a sounding board, support and, a friend during this last year. Please read and enjoy ... and let's talk..
  21. MichaelS36

    tim

    Warning: D/s BDSM subjects... some mention of sex, oral sex. I met tim serving lunch at the mission where we both volunteered. He was less than impressed with me and not interested in my good cop-self. That was fine, but I knew it wouldn’t stop me. I would have that sweet skinny-assed boy. Though I knew he’d be mine, I also knew his back story. I knew I had to be careful. I knew I had to take my time. After finishing with serving lunch, the volunteers would sit and eat. I sat with him, uninvited and unwelcome, a few times. He did not care I was gay, he did care I was a cop and told me in no uncertain terms where I could go. Each rebuke just strengthened my resolve. And I know he liked what he saw. He checked me out enough when he thought I wasn’t looking. Sitting with him, he rarely looked me in the eye and once I reached over and put two fingers under his chin and lifted. Finally his eyes met mine and I said, “I’ve seen you looking boy. I like what I see too.” His eyes widened, and I saw recognition there. It what was I’d been hoping for. Eventually he accepted an offer for a coffee. I think it was the ninth or tenth time I’d asked. Afterward I saw him onto the streetcar. Didn’t ask for his number, just said I’d see him around. I saw him a couple of weeks later at the mission. I took him for ice cream that time, he seemed to be relaxed and told me a bit about his past. Broke my heart, hearing about the death of his mother and what his father had done to him. We started to go on short dates like this, for a coffee, or ice cream, or a short walk. During this time, we held hands, there were almost chaste kisses. No deep passionate ones, no tongues, this boy was going to want me. I’d make sure of it. I mentioned him to my parents. Told them what I knew of his past, told them I was interested. I’d had boyfriends before, but no one I told my parents about. But I knew tim would be coming home with me at some point and I wanted them to know. My mother was happy. She’d have someone to mother again. Our first big date was a baseball game to watch the Blue Jays play the Rays. We had a good time there. I took him home. Kissed him good-bye and he held on. Leaving him was becoming very difficult. I took him to another game a week later. There was a UFC Pay-Per-View on I wanted to see and invited tim to my place after baseball to watch it. I was surprised he agreed to come back with me but he did. We bought a pizza on the way home. We ate while we watched and let him snuggle up and held him close. It was late when the Pay-per-view ended and I suggested tim stay over in my spare bedroom. Once he was settled I went to my own, but trust me I was very tempted. But now was not the time. Not yet. He wasn’t ready. I think it was after 3am when I heard him, moaning, crying out in his sleep. He’d have this recurring nightmare for the next few years. But hearing it was pitiful. I got up and went into him and woke him gently. I nearly picked him up, but he walked with me to my room. Well, he was a bit resistant but I insisted. I pushed him onto is left side and pulled him into me, held him. Told him that we’d only be sleeping. And we did and he was quiet for the rest of that night. After this tim seemed more into me, he wanted to be close. Things were going as I’d hoped. I’ve always been a strong person, demanding, in bed and out. I met my friend John, a year before I met tim and John saw the dominant side of me. A long time Dom himself, he was and has been my mentor in the world of D/s. I liked what he taught and showed me. I knew tim had submissive qualities. He deferred to me, looked up to me, wanted me to choose and decide. I wanted to slowly start to train him. He was over one night and we watched some fetish video, some D/s as well. He was quite interested. He told me then he’d known a Dom and had spent time with him. I asked him questions about that time and he told me he’d enjoyed it. That he liked when he was told what to do, and liked the pain offered, and quietness of the scenes and the closeness afterward. He liked that he had someone to lean and depend on. This was an unexpected gift, an interested, willing and partially trained boy. I know this all sounds methodical, but I am that kind of person. I plan things, plot them and my goal was to make tim my boy, without frightening him. I also knew that he had to make that choice, but I could help things along. I knew he was the person I wanted in my life, to love and marry when I first met him. That hasn’t changed. So my training began. We were in our relationship about four months, still no sex, no super passionate kissing. Though I certainly was ready, I still wasn’t sure of tim. We’d been out for dinner and returned to my apartment. I’d been ready for more for some time but there was something blocking tim, I felt. We were on the sofa and something was different, he climbed on my lap and kissed me, I pulled him to me and kissed him properly, for first time. I took his breath away. He unbuttoned my shirt and moved down. He knelt between my thighs and he looked up at me and I said nothing but looked back. And I saw what I’d wanted to see. Love, desire and most important, respect. His hands hovered over my belt. He was waiting for me, and as hard as that was I let him. “Do you want what’s in there, boy?” He nodded. “Do you want what’s in there, boy?” I repeated more firmly. “Yes.” “Yes what?” “Yes.” He searched for the right word. “Sir?” “Good boy. Then unwrap it.” What followed was the best oral sex I’d ever had, that boy has talent. Afterward I drew him to me and kissed him, praised him and held him close. I gave him his first challenge. “No touching yourself other than to pee and replace. Not until we next meet. Is that clear?” He replied yes. I believe he did just that. I guess at six months, I knew tim was mine. He was ready and I wanted our first time together to be special. I wanted him to enjoy it, to be relaxed and us to be together. He was nervous, because we’d discussed what this night would be. I made him dinner, he didn’t eat much, his nerves were bad. We had coffee in the living room and kissed him until we were breathless. I want to pick him up and carry him to my bed, but I resisted. Instead I stood and reached for his hand. I told him if he wasn’t ready that was fine but he just shook his head. We went to my bedroom and once inside took him in my arms and kissed him. I undressed him slowly, kissing and teasing him. I knew he was afraid to let me see him without clothes because of the scars he carried, from cutting and burns, from beatings and needles. The story each of them told hurt, and touching them was hard but only because I knew the pain they caused him. We showered and prepped tim and then I did carry him to my bed. It was a wonderful night, we kind of rocked each other’s world. We still do. He cried in my arms afterward and held him and told him then for the first time that I loved him. It hurt a little he didn’t tell me the same, but I remembered who I was dealing with and that I had to be patient. After this, tim and I were just together all the time. I took him home to meet my family. Everyone loved him. I think the first visit was a bit overwhelming, but he got used to my loud and loving family. tim developed a close relationship with my mother. She saw his pain and his loneliness and they are good friends. Often they shop together, loving their trips to Ikea or flea markets. But if he brings home one more sugar bowl … how many of them can one man need? It was at about one year I decided the time was right. I took tim to a lovely place called Edward’s Gardens. We walked a bit and saw all the wedding parties getting their pictures taken. I took tim to a quiet place I knew, with a tiny waterfall and weeping willows and he stood watching the water. I moved behind him and kissed his sweet neck. Pulled him to me and said, “You love me?” “Yes, Michael, of course I do.” I turned him around and kissed him and got down on one knee and asked him, if he’d marry me. He pulled away and stepped back. And I knew then that I had just made a huge mistake. I could see the fear and pain in his eyes as he said, “Michael, I’m so sorry but no.” I couldn’t move. He’d just said no and I was just frozen. Finally I got to my feet. “Can you get home from here?” He said yes. I couldn’t stay there, not now and I walked away, knowing he’d be alone but I just had to go. I was a mass of confusion and frustration. I didn’t contact him not for a week. I needed to think. By Friday I’d decided I wasn’t going to give him up. I went to his little flat Friday morning early before my shift and banged on his door. There was no answer. I was frustrated. Saturday I was there even earlier and banged on the door until he finally opened it, swearing about the time. I didn’t give a shit at that point and pushed him back, followed him and shoved the door closed behind me. “Sit down and shut up!” I ranted at him about how much he’d hurt me. That I loved him, cared for him, and I’d treated him as he should have been treated. “How could you say no? I have given you my heart and soul, asked you to marry me, something I do not do lightly and you throw it back at me. How the fuck could you? “ He tried to say something but I shut him down. “I do not want to hear it, tim. I need some honest answers.” He nodded. I spit some questions at him and in the end gave him three months to get his act together. Granted all of this had been a surprise. We’d never discussed marriage at all. I had to get to work, but I hugged and kissed him. “I’ll come get you after work okay?” “Okay.” “Please don’t let me down again, tim. I pretty pissed off. But this is where you belong, close to me.” We just sort of held on to each other afraid to let go. ***** On December 18, we got married in the chapel at City Hall. A vanilla ceremony attended by tim’s brother, and my crew. It was a lovely day. In January we said our vows to each other in a D/s ceremony… tim wears the flat ring of silver on a silver chain around his neck, with the word, Forever on it that marks him as my submissive, my boy. This was attended by my parents and my friend John. We’ve had our ups and downs, like all couples. We’ve grown and learned together. But if I had the chance to do this again, I would, with no doubt. tim is the most precious thing in my world. And I love him with all I have. *******************************************************************************************************************************************************************************
  22. President Bartlet: Good. I like your show. I like how you call homosexuality an abomination. Dr. Jenna Jacobs: I don’t say homosexuality is an abomination, Mr. President. The Bible does. President Bartlet: Yes, it does. Leviticus. Dr. Jenna Jacobs: 18:22. President Bartlet: Chapter and verse. I wanted to ask you a couple of questions while I had you here. I’m interested in selling my youngest daughter into slavery as sanctioned in Exodus 21:7. She’s a Georgetown sophomore, speaks fluent Italian, always cleared the table when it was her turn. What would a good price for her be? While thinking about that, can I ask another? My Chief of Staff Leo McGarry insists on working on the Sabbath. Exodus 35:2 clearly says he should be put to death. Am I morally obligated to kill him myself, or is it okay to call the police? Here’s one that’s really important ’cause we’ve got a lot of sports fans in this town: Touching the skin of a dead pig makes one unclean. Leviticus 11:7. If they promise to wear gloves, can the Washington Redskins still play football? Can Notre Dame? Can West Point? Does the whole town really have to be together to stone my brother John for planting different crops side by side? Can I burn my mother in a small family gathering for wearing garments made from two different threads? What Bartlet says in this TV show, is indeed chapter and verse. Further, the point he is making is a very valid point. A point I too hold. For whatever reason, that was the law, but then the law was fulfilled. I once prayed for God to let me know if being gay, active or inactive, was a sin. A three word verse came to me as my answer. God is love. Peace Billy
  23. Love, we all believe in it and hope one day to find it. While growing up we will learn many different types of love, from your family, the love of a friend and of course the love someone special gives you. In stories we are told that one day you will find the one and all will begin to fall into place, as if there really is just one person that will come sweep you off your feet? This often leading you to believe that out there only one person will ever love you fully. So why is it when we are single you see yourself differently? Why must we be down on ourselves because we have not found love? Throughout life many people will come and go, while at times we may think what we have found is true love. So really how do you know you’re in love? In my opinion there can be levels of love you feel for another, each one for a different reason. I had a friend once tell me they felt each man she had loved helped to prepare her for the one she ended up with. This made me think back too the different men that I had felt there had been some kind of love with. Before I wrote about someone called X, although that was somewhat more of a friendship there was still some else more. I’m not sure I would say I was in love, but there was love between us. We went through a lot together so what it grew to steamed from a kind of love. It made me think of the time of life and the events we were both facing. There had been a lot of ups and downs for us both so when we were there to pick up the pieces it created a love. With your friends you do love them and then if sex is involved it changes the entire game. Now why is it when it comes to love we see it as a game, the game of love? I often wondered was that because we seldom won and when you lost it was a gamble? With X it always felt as if it were a game, usually he held all the cards and never allowed me to roll the dice. So in all honestly this could only be considered as a love of a very close friend, one you had sex with. Even if you both did have feeling for each other and felt a strong connection you may not be in love, but who’s to say with X any ways. The way we depended on each other or how often we had sex made you believe it was more than just a friendship. I knew I did love him and from his actions I knew he loved me as well, but that love wasn’t strong enough to hold us together. When it comes to dating bi-curious men most times it’s just for the fun, yet there are times your feelings truly do get involved. Each man is different some just look for the thrill of the experience, but there are a few that also are looking for a little more. There was this guy I dated we will just call SI, he was a very sweet man, but also on the down low. For him though it was more of the fact he was still figuring himself out, along with trying to see if he preferred men over women, since he was bisexual. When we first met no one knew about him yet, he was still unsure himself, although from the first day we hung out we both felt this connection to each other we had never felt before. There was something different about SI not only was he a little more open about his sexuality, he was also more open about me. We began to hang out quite often and let me tell you the man knew how to take you out. Every date was more exciting than the last and each time he grew more comfortable with the possibility of settling with a man. SI wasn’t afraid to meet my friends, plus when we were out he made sure people knew we were together. When you finally found a man that was excited to show the world you were together you did all you could to keep him happy. Together SI and I made sure we both were happy, it was as if we had found the one, the one you thought may never come. Each time we went out the connection between us grew stronger and the sex was probably some of the best I’d ever had. This was turning into a real relationship and I was nothing but excited for the outcome. Of course life never allows you to be truly happy because soon SI had some family stuff to take care of and he left New York for a while. We wanted to wait for each other only he felt that was unfair to me so we took a break. The promise was once he returned we would pick up right where we left off, let’s hope right? Dating men in general can be very confusing most men find it hard to express the smallest of emotion. There had been this guy that I call Man, Man was the type of guy that showed you all of the romance and made sure to share his feeling with you. When we first started dating I felt everything was going in the right direction, not only did he make sure to plan nice dates, he also did all he could to make you know he was interested in you. He said the right words and had a way of making you feel as the most important person in the world. The thing that was different about Man was that he began to use the word love very early on, in fact he made sure we both did, for a bi-curious man that was a first. It was nice finding someone that wanted this as much as I did and as the months past he only made sure to make me fall for him more. So was this really love, or were we just in love with the idea of it? Either way he was the first and only man that I had ever met who rushed a relationship to the level we ended up on. I always assumed he was just a romantic or even someone that just really wanted a relationship then you wonder if it could have been love at sight? The love with Man was a forced love, one he craved for his own satisfaction and in the end he did make me fall for him. This love was not the same has I had felt for SI, shit even X. Every person will bring a certain love to you, some may be for good reasons while others may be to help you grow. In a way I guess to teach us what true love really is. The way I see it each guy you date and fall for may not be the one, or even anything more than a friend, but there is love there. We are human we want affection and in all honesty we can’t control who gets into our hearts or who we may care for. Something we all forget to do when thinking back at the lost loves of our lives is think what was it that they actually provided for you? The first thing we think about is why they left and could I have done anything different? Next is always how are they now and what are they doing? The third thing always is the I miss them and thinking what the future could have been like with them. We all do it and trust me I know I have many times, its like we need to have some sort of fantasy in our minds that we need to hold on too a little longer. I often felt we do this to ourselves only because of the fact that they got away from us. Friends always used to say your heart will always want what it can’t have, so does that mean our hearts don’t understand love? Love can be a strange thing one that is hard to let go even when there is nothing left between you and the other person. Whether you are dating a bi-curious man or not you can’t be too sure as to what you are really feeling. Take this other bi-curious man I was seeing for a while it was this guy I’ll call FL for first love. Now this story I have yet to tell and chances are I may never, but one thing I will talk about is the love we had for each other. This was one of those secret relationships you have in high school, you know the kind where you feel you need to hide your true feelings since someone was still in the closet. I was out back then already and sadly to this day I’m sure he still hasn’t told anyone. We had a thing that started when we were both young, you know that curious time where you had to be sure as to what you really wanted. Now as we both grew up the feelings we had grew as well, making it harder to say goodbye to each other when we both had to go our separate ways. The first love is always one that really makes you think back and remember the happiness it brought you. So dating bi-curious men can always be fun but the times that love gets involved it doesn’t necessarily mean that it’s a bad thing. Look at the men I spoke about each one gave me a certain type of love and helped me grow to be where I am now. X showed me that love between two good friends could lead to more which sometimes can be the one thing you needed. People say a good relationship can come from a good friendship. Even though X and I didn’t last long it helped me to accept the fact that friends can fall in love. Then look at SI the one man that showed me love from a DL man can still be about romance. The love we had helped us both to only seek something that would truly satisfy you, in fact his love made me realize I was worth it. SI only wanted to keep me happy and make sure I needed for nothing. The love we had was something true, a love you often don’t find, but it gave me hope and sometimes that is all you have. Man was the love that was on the border of lust. The kind that was more of a sexual love that made you appreciate a man that wanted to please you and make you feel beyond good. Although this love wasn’t anything to really think about or long for it still showed you a man can love you and give you the kind of sex you only hear about. With Man I will always look back at the little love and the amazing sex we had together. So it in a way it was the love of sex and passion we had for each other. FL’s love is the one that will always leave you searching and looking for another love. In all reality this is the love that makes you crave something so much more. If you really think about it the first love is always the one that leaves you wanting more while being happy you were able to love at all. Most first loves will never last but it leaves you happy that someone gave you that love you were unsure you would ever find. Love can be a funny thing and at times we find ourselves doing any and everything to keep it. So what happens when you think you have found the one, but you may not be the one for them???
  24. It's been difficult lately for tim, and frustrating for me. Depression is such a hard thing to live with, both for the one that suffers through it and the people around them. Try as he might, and I am not surprised by it, tim tries to push away the bad things he feels. It is a constant fight for him. People say he's a man, he should put the past behind him. Move on, fuhgeddaboudit! he does, a lot, but with his dad's passing, well, I wish the brain had real door that can be locked. It doesn't and it's the same for all of us I think. If your past wants to catch up with you, you rarely can out run it. Yesterday it caught up with him. Like a runaway train, it caught him, and flattened him. he is okay ... but my frustration brought out some words: Darkened Days I know that he suffers I know his world is grey Nothing that I can do, Will take his pain away I can love him with my body I can kiss away the tears But I will never be man enough To banish forever, his fears I try and show him life is good I try and point out sunny skies But it's life that's done this to him And it's that I cannot disguise He clings to me on darkened days He clings to the light I offer All I can do is hold him tight And whisper: I always be your harbour I love you, boy xo
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