I'm Back

The two people who read this blog deserve an update. Especially considering they've been waiting almost a year for one. In a nutshell.

Over the past year:
-I dumped my slave boy
-drove across the country with my best (female) friend
-spent a summer in california
-took the GRE's in anticipation of applying to grad school
-started dating my best (female) friend (open relationship)
-drove back across the country with my now-girlfriend
-starting training a new slave boy
- stopped training the new slave boy
- I went on antidepressants
- decided not to apply to grad school
-chilled in Boston over winter break
-began my last semester of undergrad

And finally, the fact you're most interested in - fucked 20 boys since I last posted, bring my current total up into between 78-90, depending on what you count as sex.

For more details of all of this, follow the jump

First, the slave boy.
If you remember back to The Master/Slave Relationship, then you know that I had very clear expectations of what our relationship was to entail. Detailed and precise expectations. Jamie knew that. He knew my thoughts, he had read that document, he knew exactly what he was getting into. And he told me, in no uncertain terms, that everything in it was everything that he wanted, that this was his big fantasy.

He lied.

Either he never had any intention of following through, or I was not strict enough to force him to follow through.  Either way, he did not get a job, he did not contribute to rent, he did not do his share of the chores, he did not do any form of exercise. As my frustration with him grew, our sex grew worse. And I was lenient. I listened to his excuses, and I forgave him time and time again.

By the end of the semester, I had grown tired of his bullshit. I should have thrown him out then. I did not. I had gotten an amazing opportunity to live in Palo Alto and work a dream job making a decent amount of money over the summer.  I took it. I considered bringing Jamie with me, but decided against it. Instead, I charged him with looking after the apartment with a friend of ours that I sublet to. The two of them would be roommates while I worked in California. I thought that without my presence, Jamie would not feel pressured and anxious, and would be able to find a job or go back to school.

Over the summer, he festered in the apartment. Our friend, his roommate, called me to complain about how filthy Jamie had become, and how he had not done any of his share of the chores.  Jamie still didn't get a job, still didn't plan on going back to school.  In late July, I was still attempting to salvage the situation. I offered to fly him out to California to join me for the road trip back. He declined - saying that he was afraid of flying alone.

A week later, I did what I should have done months earlier and dumped him.  I told him that he could stay at my place for up to two weeks after I returned to give him time to find a job and an apartment or to decide to move back to his parents place.  He declined and moved out a few days before I returned.

When I got back to my apartment, I found that he had wrecked the place.  Filth strewn everywhere. The sink was filled with rotting food. He had left half his stuff behind. He had even left some strange neo-pagan curse nonsense (he was a weird Wiccan kid) saying something like "may all your plans come to naught" or some such nonsense.  Worst of all, he had stolen my bike. He had claimed someone else had taken it, then changed his story a few times, before finally admitting that he had taken it.  I had spent $700 on that bike a year before. I had maintained it carefully, kept it always inside when not riding it. Locked with a U-bolt and a chain through both wheels whenever I had to chain it up inside.  That bike was not only an expensive piece of equipment, but also had deep sentimental value. And the little bitch stole it.

I found out that he had moved in with another guy, somewhere east of the city. He had somehow managed to find a job at Rite-AID after I kicked him out - I suspect he had needed a firm kick in the pants all along. I contacted the police to reclaim my bike, they told me to file a civil suit. I found in my jurisdiction that I could not sue him without knowing his address. I filled out the paperwork and asked mutual friends to let me know where he lived if they found out.

 A little over a week ago, one of those friends let me know that Jamie had posted on facebook revealing that his most recent boyfriend had dumped him and he was moving back to his parents place. He still hasn't picked up his stuff from me. I am undecided if I'm going to pursue legal action against him. So it goes.

The Girl
One of my best friends in college I met in the Fall of 2010.  We were taking a class together - and she thought I was an arrogant douche.  Not the best first impression.  We didn't start becoming good friends until the summer of 2011, when we worked in a lab together.  Digging through  my posts, I find I mentioned her.  Karla. We went to Babylon together, parties, studied together, talked about boys and girls together (we both knew the other was bi from the start).  You can dig through earlier posts and find mention of her if you're so inclined.

I had feelings for her, but they were shot down. So, I settled comfortably into the friendzone - on nights when I was fucking twinks or studying, I'd hang out with her, eating ice cream in bed and watching movies while we cuddled.

When Jamie and I lived together, she was  frequent guest - she and I would carpool to campus together.  And finally, when I decided to road trip across the country and asked my closest and oldest friends to join me - she was the only one who said yes.

It took a week to get across the country, including a stop in my hometown.  We saw Chicago and Mt. Rushmore, Seattle and the West Coast.  We spent a couple days together in San Francisco before I put her on the plane to Boston, where she had moved after graduating a few weeks before - and we said our goodbyes.  It was a bittersweet moment - she was one of my best friends who I had been immensely close to for the better part of three years, and now she was gone and I might not see her again for a long time.

At the close of the summer, Jamie refused to road trip back across the country with me.  As did most of my friends - they simply didn't have the time to take a week or two off.  But Karla did. And while we were planning our trip, we noticed we'd be going through Vegas. We joked a bit about getting married while we there.  That's when she said to me "you know, if 20 years from now, I wake up next you and we've been married all that time, I don't think I'd regret that life."  That's when our conversation turned more emotional - three years of restrained unrequited love for her poured out - she knew about it, of course. Had known about it. And she had slowly grown to see me first as a friend, then as brother, and now, finally as a lover.  That's when I finally pulled the plug on Jamie.

 She flew out and we spent the next two weeks driving across the country, seeing everything from Lake Tahoe and the Grand Canyon to New Orleans and Las Vegas.   After I dropped her off in Boston, I drove back to school for the start of the semester.

For Thanksgiving, she joined my family and me in my hometown.  Then for Christmas, I drove to Boston to spend the weeks with her.  I came back from there, via New York City, this past week. I've decided that when I graduate, I'm moving to Boston. We're not moving in together - we both like our own space - but we'll spend a lot of time sleeping over.

Summer in California
My summer in California was amazing.  I did good work, I got paid well, I lived in Palo Alto, I spent my weekends at the beach or in San Francisco.  I fucked some hot boys - the best of whom was a gorgeous dancer named Mikey.  Sadly, Mikey is HIV+, but that's what meds and condoms are for. Besides, I've maintained my policy of frequent testing. 6 months after leaving California, I can rest easy knowing I'm still disease free.  I went to San Fran Pride, Dore Alley, the Kink Armory.

I also took the GRE in preparation for grad school. I've always been good at standardized tests - the PSAT, SAT, and ACT I always scored in the 97th, 98th, 99th percentiles.  The GRE  I similarly blew out of the water - 170 on the math, 167 on the verbal. Amazingly good scores.  Funny that I decided not to go to grad school in the end.

The New Slave Boy
Back in college, I decided to rebuild my stable of fuck buddies.  Nick is a submissive, kinky, 18 year old freshman. I had good fun with him, but ultimately, both of our schedules became too busy, and I was unable to use him full time. We still keep in touch.

Depression
My struggles with mental illness continue.  I started seeing a therapist last semester, went on antidepressants the week before Thanksgiving. It's hard to tell if they're effective,  but I feel like I've been solidly productive since I started taking them.

Decision not to apply to grad school
A Phd has been my goal for... god, all of college at least. An extended period of time. I think if you find little journals written by me when I was 8 or 9, I wrote how I dreamed of being a scientist.  Frankly, my mental state concerns me. Despite my high test scores, my solid research experience, and the backing of many good professors, my grades are shoddy. Not awful, but only mediocre.  I have not been able to maintain a disciplined lifestyle for an extended period of time without lapsing into bottomless bouts of depression where nothing gets done. I've decided to take a year or two off, spend them in Boston with Karla, and work while I'll get my life sorted before embarking on a Phd.

 The Last Semester
This is the end of the road. Classes, applying to jobs, the whole nine yards.
I've been putting together my stable of fuck buddies for this semester. So far it looks like it's going to be:
-Alex - definitely - slept with him Tuesday night
-Aaron - definitely - slept with him Wednesday night (last night)
-Sam - maybe- penciled him in for Friday night (tomorrow)
-Max - maybe - but he's moved an annoyingly long way away
-Jordan - maybe - penciled him in for Saturday night
-Jukin - maybe
-Andrew - flaking on me literally right now - was supposed to sleep with me Thursday night (this night) - but sent a text canceling
-Nick - unlikely after last semester

They're all bottoms, half of them submissive. Mostly twinky.

And to round this out - no, I probably won't finish Liam's Mistake. I know the ending of the story. I might just post it.  Also, I fucked Kyros Christian last year.

That is all.