Slept in as long as I could this morning. Around 10 a.m., I finally decided it was time to drag my ass out of bed and get my life back on track.

The first order of business today was to send out some more messages to people that had come to MOMENTS. Despite my feelings over how things went down, I still wanted my friends to know how much I appreciated the fact that they made the effort to come out to the party. Their support really did mean the world to me.

Last night, I ended up sending Logan a few pictures from the event, as he had requested. Logan acknowledged them with a text this morning, but his response was nothing worthy of a journal entry. Ugh. Moving on.

I packed up all of my things at Casa Z, showered, and then made a full list of to-do’s that I think will help me move forward. When I eventually opened my bedroom blinds and curtains today, I realized it was an absolutely gorgeous day outside. That was exactly what I needed: sunshine.

My mood completely changes for the better when the weather is sunny. I think it’s somewhat symbolic – or perhaps a seasonal coincidence – that I’ve been feeling as though dark clouds have been hovering over me lately, because they quite literally have been. This winter has been brutal. But, now spring is here. The darkness is breaking up, and the light is coming through. It’s time to keep pushing on, and my list of things to do is going to keep me very busy.

I said goodbye to Mom and Dad and left Casa Z with my usual bag of guilt in tow. I think that’s due mostly in part to the fact that Mom acts as though I’m going off to war every time I return to my apartment. I swear, sometimes I think she actually cries.

I drove around doing a ton of errands in the area, then got on the highway and went back downtown. I finally started listening to music again, but nothing by Mariah Carey. In a weird way, and this likely has something to do with how I feel about MOMENTS, I can’t listen to any Mariah music. At least, not right now. Mariah’s albums have always taken me to an emotional place, but now even her happy songs make me want to breakdown and cry. I actually went as far as removing all Mariah Carey music from my phone today. In its place, I’ve added the only genre of music that I know will make me happier: disco. ABBA, Donna Summer, and Studio 54 hits are going to be the soundtrack to my life for the next little while.

I arrived at the Witch Cave, dropped off all of my stuff, and then decided to hit my pipe and smoke a bowl. Amidst the aftermath of MOMENTS, I had taken my weed kit down from the tippy top shelf of my kitchen to help me deal with my trauma, so everything was laid out on my coffee table when I got home. I couldn’t resist. I sparked up, then got back in the car and drove to the gym.

Listen. I know that blazing and driving is stupid. I’m fully aware. It gives me some bizarre sense of excitement, though. Nonetheless, every time I get in a car while high, I think to myself, “If you get caught, or if you get in an accident, this is the end. You’ll have officially hit rock bottom.” I’m playing with fire, and I know it all too well. I think a part of me will always search for that. However, right now, another part of me argues, “Fuck it. I get so little joy out of anything else in life. Let me have this.” The devil on my shoulder always seems to win.

When I got to the gym, I realized that I didn’t have any of my workout gear. It wasn’t that I had forgotten to bring it from the Witch Cave, though. I had left it all at Casa Z. I didn’t even get out of the car. I turned around, jumped back on the highway, and crawled north in rush hour traffic, blasting disco music the entire way. I was happy. When I got home, I took a nap, slept off my high, and then did my full workout in the basement.

After all of that messiness, I was finally ready to go back downtown. I had been messaging Bryan around that time. He and some friends were at a bar on King Street West, so I went to meet up with him/them after parking the car.

I like that Bryan is really open with his friendships. I’m not. Well, it’s a mix. Part of it is that I’m very protective of my friendships. Merging my friends with my boyfriends has proven to be a risky business. The other part of it is that I simply don’t see my friends that often, so there are less opportunities for said mergers. Very few of my friends ever end up meeting the guys I date, and vice-versa.

Anyway, it was nice to meet Bryan’s friends and hang out with them. Me being me, I had no problem joining their conversation from 100 different angles. I can be quite social when I want to be, so encounters like tonight’s usually go well for me.

After a couple of beers, Bryan and I took the subway back to my place, as he was going to spend the night. We got ready for bed, one thing lead to another, and now I’m going to get very, very graphic.

I don’t even think I put Bryan’s dick in my mouth the entire night. However, I straddled that boy and grinded on him like a motherfucker, to the point that I got Bryan off without making any phalangeal contact. Look ma, no hands!

Do you ever feel like you were a successful sex worker in a past life? I’m freakishly good at this stuff. I’ll never forget the first time I gave a guy a blowjob. It was maybe a week or two after I had come out of the closet, which was admittedly only about a week or two after I had officially realized that I was gay. I was in the passenger seat of a co-worker’s car, parked in some random housing subdivision. I leaned over, did my thing, and at the end of it he looked at me while catching his breath and said, “Holy shit. Where did you go to school?” Mhmm. That’s right. Where’s my fucking medal?

After I had finished with Bryan, he rolled me over and began giving me head. The morning after MOMENTS, which was the first time Bryan had gone down on me, I felt some teeth. I thought it might have just been the angle at which Bryan was delivering, so I didn’t think much about it. Well, the same thing happened again tonight. It was only for a brief moment, but that better not be a recurring theme, because – well, for obvious reasons.

Nevertheless, Bryan finished the job. But, he fucking purposely lifted his mouth off as I was climaxing, and I ended up coming on his face. Honestly, that’s such a turn off for me. I fucking hate that. Swallow, man! Not just because it feels better, but because it’s just fucking easier. I don’t want to go to the bathroom after we’re done and grab a wad of toilet paper so you can wipe yourself down. Fuck, man. That’s just wasteful. Think of the planet!

That was it. That was my day. During this evening’s nightcap, there was still a part of me that was looking for Logan in Bryan. It’s so sick. And it’s not fair to Bryan. But, it’s even little things. For example, using your tongue while kissing. Give me your tongue, Bryan. Shove your tongue down my goddamn throat and lick my fucking face. And swallow. And rinse, and repeat.

Goodnight xo