GAYCATION

It started at gaycation, this convening where a whole bunch of queers gets to camp in the wilderness for fun. There were also games and good food for the week, but it was mostly a retreat for people who hadn't had a chance to enjoy the outdoors. I was not one of those people. I've been a city slicker my whole life, but this was a chance to finally see what being in a commune full of gays would be like. And boy, they did not disappoint. Some of the drama included a new acquaintance of mine using the fact that they, myself, and a new friend shared the same bed on the first night because they were too timid to sleep alone. Being new queers, I didn't hold any objections, and the three of us cuddled until the morning. I didn't know that acquaintances would use our nightcaps to infuriate their ex by making it sound like we "slept" together. To add insult to injury, the ex was my friend, and I certainly had to pull her aside to reassure her that I was not that dirty. I do, in fact, respect boundaries, others more so than my own.

But I did sleep with someone. This surprised me because I am used to being considered the designated ugly fat friend. I'm not ugly; I just don't get hit on a lot by people I also find attractive. I remember that one night during the convening, we found ourselves alone in a chapel discussing the drama of who's fucking who at the camp when they revealed they had a crush on me. I wasn't the only person they had eyes for, and I didn't know it at the time, but that would come back to bite.

The chapel was ugly, with fluorescent lighting that twitched every few minutes, so needless to say, it was giving cabin in the woods. But I felt safe with them. After their confession, I had one of my own. I, too, had a crush on them and would welcome a kiss. Unfortunately, they couldn't kiss me because they were already in a committed relationship with someone else who was not at the camp. A boy, a beautiful one. It's funny because I asked, "can I kiss you?" and they said, "I want to kiss you too, but I have a partner, and I would have to call him and check in to see if that's okay." First time I'd heard some shit like that.

Oh! Sure, you need permission to do what you brought me to the chapel for? "I didn't know you needed permission, don't worry about it. Sorry, I asked." They seemed sad. And without a second hesitation, they locked their lips to mine, and a steamy make-out session ensued. It was the first time in a long time that I felt seen by someone, felt beautiful to someone, felt attracted to someone. I gave in. Over the next few days, we hung out, got closer, and volunteered to do tasks needed around the camp. Anything to spend a little one-on-one time.

One night they found me, probably in the kitchen doing dishes or prepping for the next day, and asked to hang out after my shift finished. I was salty because they were not single, but I wanted them, so I said yes. Plus, it wasn't every day someone found themselves attracted to me. I was treated like the ugly duckling growing up; I'm the sorry, the ugly fat gay duckling with a mouth like a razor. I agreed, and we found ourselves alone in the meeting room, discussing our likes and hang-ups. I was prepared to walk away because I was no one's second option, but they were convincing. They said all the things that made me feel seen, and before I knew it was making out again, but this time we wanted to be physical. I joked, "don't you need to call and get permission?"

"Shut up." they chuckled as they continued to kiss and grope me. I know it's camping, but like I said, I'm a city slicker, so I was lucky enough to have my own room in the cabin I had a botched three-way in. I was a virgin then, so I told them to take it very slowly. "I'm not sure if I want to be penetrated."

"We don't have to. Plus, have you ever been eaten out?"

I blushed. Of course not, but I've seen it in porn and was willing to try it. I hurried to the bathroom because we'd been camping and working all day. I did not need accidents or embarrassment creeping into this unbelievably romantic moment. Someone I hadn't thought noticed me was in my bed waiting to eat fresh cakes out of the oven. (I'm so ridiculous sometimes, lol).

There was a knock at the door. At this point, it was almost midnight, and my friend, who had somehow made it on the lousy girl list, was at my cabin door with a blanket. "I don't want to sleep in the woods with other fellows. It's dark as fuck, and there is zero electricity. Can I stay here with you?" I was flabbergasted. When I was about to get some, my homie needed help. Reluctantly I mozy back over to my suitor in the sheets and ask, "do you mind if my friend stays here tonight? She's having a hard time in the other cabins."

Surprisingly they agreed, and I let my friend in the room. Bunk beds were on each side, with the widest one at the bottom. She could have the top bunk opposite mine. After making her palette, I scurry over to her and ask, "so we were trying to fuck around when you showed up…."

"Oh, don't mind me, just let me go to sleep first. I'm like a log once I'm passed out. Just call my name a little, and if I answer, I'm not asleep yet." I couldn't believe what I was hearing, but I wasn't about to pass up this opportunity to deflower myself at gaycation- how much more gay could it get? Of course, I checked in with my potential lover, who didn't seem to have a problem with it as long as she was asleep. After a few moments, I tested the theory by calling her name. She groaned, so I waited a few more moments for the sound of sweet silence filling the air, and then a symphony of loud ass snoring followed. At least I knew she was asleep.

We were in bed, head between my thighs with a pillow over my face to catch the moans to not wake anyone.

…

What I didn't understand at the time was fucking a round with a coworker gets messy.

We began a tiny tryst at the company convenings and stayed in touch on socials or the occasional phone call. But we lived states away from each other, so we could never have a true romance. I also want to confess that after the first time we canoodled, they switched up and had regrets that they had cheated on their partner like it was my fault, but I digress.

At other company gatherings, we had found time to talk and get on the same page about our affection for one another. They also happened to be single at the time. I was more than willing to give it another shot because it made me feel special. Or at least that was the kool-aid I was drinking. Queers, of course, love to party, and after this convening, we all decided that we would go out for drinks and dancing. Considering I had an enlightened moment earlier that day with the suitor, I decided to follow up and make my desires well known.

"Would you like to hang out tonight?" I asked.

"" Yea, we're all going for drinks."

"No, I mean after. Maybe we could spend the night together if you want?" I sound desperate.

"Yes, I would love that. I missed you." and of course, so did I. Nobody kissed me like they did. So it was set. After the festivities tonight, we would be back in my bed for a nightcap and a little extra. I even asked my roomie, the friend who commandeered our last hookup, to make themselves scarce that night. I needed the room.

I got dressed in the sexiest one piece I could find, pulled my hair back to show off those gorgeous dimples, and slid on a pair of fuck me pumps. I was prepared to lose my virginity to them tonight. I knew something was off when I got a ride home from some coworkers, and the one with the loudest mouth gloated about how they had a moment with their crush. They even asked to use the spare room in the air bnb that night because they felt they would get lucky. I'm doing my best not to freak out about what I'm hearing, but it doesn't help that my older mentor, who was abreast of the drama, started making jokes to me because they knew we were talking about the same person. But I was confident. I looked better, smelled better, and had a better demeanor than the competition. They were loud and boastful, but I kept my afflictions to myself. We will see who will have them at the end of the night. They've already promised themselves to me.

Dusk finally settles in, and we find ourselves at 529, a gay club in the city's heart. Of course, I stepped out looking like a snack because there would be no reason I went home alone tonight. For the most part, we all stayed together as a group, coworkers getting drinks. They asked to buy me one from the bar, and I accepted. I figured it was a moment for us to be alone while everyone else was smoking and talking shit on the patio. At the bar, I was flattered, but they kissed me on the cheek sweetly when I went in for a kiss. I was a little confused, but they chalked it up to us being at a coworker event, and we could save the PDA for later. I obliged. No one wants to be the bitch to make a scene at the bar about not being kissed. They've already reassured me that I would have them for the night.

I wasn't tripping. I went to the party and danced the night away with my friends, bumping and grinding to the house music blaring in the background. Until I whip my hair around to see my suitor in a deep lip-lock battle with the loud-ass coworker from the car. I mean, it was going down on the dance floor. Motherfucker could barely kiss me on the cheek yet had their tongue tickling someone else's uvula.

I played myself, thinking this person would hold to their word and see me. Instead, they're getting busy in front of me like I'm a fucking ghost, standing less than ten feet away, watching like everybody else. They weren't that hung up on pretenses of coworkers going for drinks. I was so embarrassed, in fact, that my friend wisped me away and asked, "You want to get out of here?" She knew why I had an egg on my face, and so did everyone else.

"Yeah, I'm ready to go…."

Until I saw him, the werewolf, a sexy ass person who I had my own engagements with, but we were always casual. He was sitting on the stage watching my dance, and I assume he witnessed the full-on make-out session to my right when I approached him. "Can I dance for you?" I asked.

"Please." I commenced to give him the sexiest, most seductive lap dance I could muster. All eyes were turning on us. I could feel his lap stiffen as I rode him with intention. I could tell he wanted me from the look in his eyes. The song concluded, and so did my dance. I leaned into his ear and whispered, "Can I kiss you?"

"I'm sorry. You know kissing is not my thing."

I felt shot down again. If this was an old Charlie Chaplin act, they'd be wheeling out the ambulance right about now. "Okay," I said quickly, turning to beeline for the door where my friends were patiently waiting. He immediately grabbed my hand, yanked me back into his embrace, and locked his lips with mine. It wasn't the first time we'd kissed, but it was the first time it felt special. We made out in the club, and I prayed that they saw me in someone else's arms. Then I left like a cool breeze just passing through.

The next day I ignored the fuck out of them. Every time they tried to speak to me, I found a way to make myself busy. I wasn't ready to talk. But a good friend reminded me that the closure wasn't for them. It was for me. Finally, they volunteered to work on the same project as me, so we would be forced to talk to each other. I immediately tried to switch projects, but all groups had been formed and assigned tasks. They cornered me in a room when everyone was off tinkering at their assigned duties.

"Where did you go last night?"

"Oh, you care? Because you didn't seem to care when you had your tongue down that nigga's throat last night in front of everyone. But you could barely give me a kiss on the fucking cheek. Coworkers remember? I hope you had fun." I returned to my work, seething.

"We were just making out. I didn't plan it or anything."

"No? But you did have plans with me. You said fuck those plans!"

"I'm sorry. I messed up."

"You're always sorry." I walked away to find something else to do. I just wanted to go the bathroom and cry, but then I had eighty queers in the restroom asking me what was wrong.

I stopped talking to them after that. At least for a while.

…

One day, after almost a year of not speaking, they hit me up on snap chat. I posted a beautiful picture of my face, and they sent a compliment. I'm a sucker for compliments because I don't get them all the time. I replied with a thank you, and somehow it spewed into a conversation and caught up. I no longer worked at the organization, and they had gotten married. It wasn't a traditional marriage, and I know this because, after some slight flirting back and forth, they invited me up for the weekend to see their work. Spend a little time. Make up for fucking me over the first time. And like a simp for an excellent traveling adventure, I agreed to go. So I took a few hours' road trips up the coast to the Carolinas. I hadn't seen the authentic countryside in the easternmost united states, so it was a chance to see something I'd never seen and spend time with someone who had won my heart, stomped on my shit, gave it back like they didn't want it and then hit me with the "I'm just playing, you know I want you."

But like every time before them, I was enthralled by the idea of someone wanting me back, even if they had already caused me pain. Yes, I knew the wife. As I said, they weren't traditional. I found myself driving up the coast, taking in all the breathtaking views of farmland and savannah, music on blast to my favorite tunes, daydreaming of being in their arms.

When I arrived, the wife greeted me with cheers and hugs, and they soon came out of the house to help me with my bags after their work meeting. Luckily for me, that was all the work they had left for the weekend, so we could spend time together. I have to admit, it was magical. We slept most days, made breakfast and dinner, showered together, and they showed me a round town- where they do business. I still had to work during the week but found myself physically ill at the thought of doing more spreadsheets, so I called in sick. What was supposed to be a weekend trip turned into almost a week of hanging out, having sex, and getting to know some fantastic people better.

After some time, we finally struck a chord. They wanted me, and I always wanted them, so we tried the long-distance idea to avoid adding too much pressure to the mix. They wanted to come to the city and stay with me for a while, but first, because they were going back home to another country for the holidays to be with family, they suggested we go off into the mountains together for the weekend. All expenses were paid, so I couldn't say no. Especially if they're going to be traveling the world for a few months. Any chance I have to spend time with them, I'm taking.

…

They booked an air bnb in the mountains, complete with a hot tub and plenty of rooms to christen. They drove down from the country into the city to scoop me up, and then it was off to another adventure. They were beautiful, steep, and grand. Blankets of snow covered the hillside here and there. The house was up a hill in a gated community that felt private but still in touch with nature.

We spent the next few days cuddled in bed, kissing each other's breath away. I'm a sucker for making out. We made dinner most nights, went for walks in the countryside, and swam in circles in the jacuzzi. It was a beautiful time. One night, we were drinking wine and binge-watching random Netflix movies, and they asked me to sing them a song. Reluctantly, I mustered what courage I could find and belted out Can We Talk by Tevin Campbell. I couldn't get through the whole song without going horse, but I hoped they could feel the passion I put into it. Since I had done them a favor, I wondered if they would do one for me.

I whipped out a board game for sparking intimacy in couples. I bought it for the trip because I figured it would be a good chance for us to get to know each other better. It was full of fun little dares and questions that tested our knowledge of each other's minds, souls, and bodies. My favorite challenge was for them to help me live out a terrible fantasy from my childhood. Pretend to be a vampire and seduce me. Surprisingly they did a bang-up job. I was too busy laughing from embarrassment, but they remained in the scene, and honestly, when they bit me, it was ecstasy. I guess I have a thing about biting. Don't judge me. I do that enough myself.

Because I'm competitive, I won the game that night, and my treat was to die for. They led me back in the freezing snow on the deck that overlooked the neighbor's cabin. We had just gotten out of the hot tub, so all I had on was a robe. They kiss me, starting at my lips, leading to my neck and chest, and then down to my thighs. As they undid my robe, they took me into their mouth, steam rising from below as their lips acting as a heater for my pulsating desire. In the manicured wild, I received the best head I had ever been given. So memorable, in fact, I still fantasize about it. Maybe it was something about being outside and possibly getting caught by the neighbors. But whatever it was, it did it for me. They did it for me. We concluded the weekend getaway with hugs and kisses and a few more stolen moments of intimacy before returning to our respective worlds.

They were leaving the country in a few days and wanted our weekend to act as a promise to me that though they were aware they had eyes for many, they would only be intimate with me. I mattered. So much so that they made an unsolicited commitment to not sleep with anyone else while they were away. We weren't a couple, but they knew I had hang-ups about being a notch in the belt. However, I knew them. Their eyes do not lie, and I made it very clear that there was no need to pretend like they owed me fidelity. After all, I wasn't the wife. I told them not to make promises they could not keep to me. I can handle a lot but being lied to is top-tier heartbreak because I get my hopes up that this person is genuinely putting me first. That they would value me so much, their word was bond. They could be someone I could depend on.

They doubled down on their promise to me. Reassured me that I'd be one of the first people they had to see when they were back on this side of the border. I reveled in the idea that there was a person in the world that no matter how far they went or who they met, I would always matter to them. I thought that they could be the one to fill this weird lover-shaped hole in my heart.

A few months passed, and we kept in touch via Snapchat. Seeing their adventures in another land and living their best life was extraordinary.

And then a phone call.

"Hey, how have you been?" they always sounded like they were whining when they spoke about uncomfortable things.

"I'm good. How's the island?"

"Good. It was amusing seeing my Abuela and cousins. They keep taking me out to get drunk."

"We know you love to drink." I chuckle. "So, what's up? When are you coming back?"

"Soon, but that's why I'm calling you. I did something.

"Something like what?" I ask, fearing the answer.

There was a long pause. Silence never rang so loud.

"I kinda slept with someone else…."

I would say my jaw dropped, but I knew it! If I went to another country for a few months, I would sleep with someone else too. I was doing my best to be realistic.

"How long ago was this?"

"A few weeks…."

"Wow, you could've told me, but you lied and said nothing happened the last time we talked. Why do you lie?" I waited in anticipation of the next lie.

"Because I didn't want to hurt you. I promised you I would only be with you, but it just happened, and I feel terrible about it. It meant nothing to me, just a good time and…."

I cut him off. "I'm not even mad that you fucked someone else. I'm mad you broke a promise I didn't ask for and then lied about it for weeks. I guess I really can't trust you, huh? I wasn't asking you to be somebody you're not."

We broke up, but I would like to know if you can break up with someone you were never claimed by. I mean, I'm not their wife.

…

A few weeks passed of me sulking in my feelings when they hit me up again. I have to admit I was happy to hear from them.

"I'll be back in the states in a few weeks. Can I come to see you? Let me make it up to you…please?"

What can I say? I'm a sucker for romance, and it was Valentine's weekend. So…

"Come through, spend Valentine's with me."

And they did. We had a magnificent, romantic time that included double dates with my friends, picnics in the park, and late-night rendezvous between the sheets. We even went to a sex ball for V-day, which turned out to be a sad excuse for a sex party. It was more like tabling and vendors selling erotic adjacent products and food. But honestly, it was nice to have a night on the town with them on my arm. It took me a while to admit it, but I had grown to love them. Dare I say I fell in love with them, but I never confessed it to them, and for a good reason, I would've looked like more of a dumbass. Instead, I convinced myself that it was just fun. That was enough. For Valentine's day, they showered me with gifts. I wasn't expecting it, mostly because I hadn't purchased anything but the ticket to that wack-ass show. Plus, their presence was the only gift I longed for. I still wear that sweatshirt to this day. What can I say? They had the kind of taste that matched my style. They knew me.

I was sad to see the weekend end. I wanted them to stay a moment longer, but they had obligations in another state. I remember straddling their lap in the grand solo chair, taking up space in our tiny foyer. My housemate caught a glimpse and later said, "wow, you looked so happy with them. I really saw you light up." Too bad it didn't last.

…

One night, I received a phone call from them pretty late. A sound of worry cloaked their voice. We chatted about how our days went and caught up on some last-minute wrap-up from the year. They asked me to sing again.

"What song?" I asked with a tremble.

"Anything you want. I just want to hear you sing." They sounded like they had a rough day, and my wanting to post our photos on social media only added to the stress. Again, I'm not the wife. The only song, for some reason, that echoed in my head was "Obviously" by Alex Mali. A beautiful, melodic tune that chronicles the loss of deep love. It's funny that I was singing the theme song to our entanglement. Our phone conversation blossomed into a skype call so we could see each other's faces. They seemed distraught. I honestly don't remember their exact words, but the gist was, "we're better off as friends." A line I'm all too familiar with. And here I was, trying to have skype sex with someone while they were breaking up with me. Pathetic right? All I could do was hug the red teddy bear they'd gotten me for a holiday, holding a heart that said be mine. I felt dumb, tricked again into giving my heart to someone who told me from the beginning through their actions that they could never love me how I needed to be loved. They could never give me the time and space I deserved. They could never want me the way I wanted them.

I wanted to rip that bear apart. Instead, I just threw it across the room and politely accepted my rejection as I excused myself from the video chat. Yes, I cried myself to sleep, but after a while, I couldn't produce tears anymore. So I just sobbed, waiting for the ache in my heart to subside. It never did. I just decided not to stay trampled by my feelings. So here's another heartbreak for the books. I should be used to it by now. It is the same song and dance on repeat.

We still chat from time to time via snap chat which I should delete these days, but the simp in me enjoys always having a connection to them. I never told them and didn't realize why I took it so hard when we were over, but I loved them. I got caught up in the rapture, a whirlwind romance complete with affection and lust for a time. Writing this is a step in the healing process, so I can stop replaying the entanglement in my head. It's been years already.

Song inspiration: “Obviously” by the talented Alex Mali