Memories...from the corners of my mind...tweaky, hazy colored memories...

February 10th, 2008 was a big day for me...26 days earlier I had celebrated my 1 year off of crystal meth...in jail ( I was in there for my second DUI). I of course was very upset at having spent my first ever one year off crystal meth in jail, without my friends around to support me. I had become quite estranged from meetings because people were judging me for still drinking (let's leave that little issue for another day, shall we?) Anyway, here I was a couple of weeks back out in the real world, feeling fat and ugly ( I had gained about 30 pounds over my normal 145 non tweaker weight) I hadn't been validated by a man in a long while and I had decided to go to the Faultline, my favorite leather bar, to drown my sorrows with tequila and dollar beer. On the bus ride over this gorgeous stocky muscle-y hunk of a man kept looking back at me, and I of course right back at him. We both got off at the same stop, and walked into the same bar. I was floored...never had a man so gorgeous looked at me the way this man did. For the next couple of hours we would give each other looks from across the room, and I kept downing beer after beer and shot after shot, trying to build up some liquid courage to go up and start talking to this guy.

5 beers and 3 cuervo shots later I finally went up to him and began flirting heavily with him, I can't really remember how the conversation went, but I do remember his proposal. “Do you wanna go down to Flex ( a bathhouse 3 blocks down, which by the way I had never been to) and party?” Now for those of you who don't know “party” in the gay world is code for doing drugs. I could not have said “yes” any quicker...we stumbled over to Flex, at which I paid for BOTH our entrances, got us a big “fancy” room with a TV, and being both free of drugs, went about a search to find some meth. He succeeded and proceeded to invite me in to hang with this (I guess) cute Asian guy (I say I guess, because I am mostly attracted to white guys, and SOME Latin guys) and off to the races we went. We partied up a bit, and I proceeded to buy some of his stash from him, we got fucked up together in my room and if I recall correctly, he kinda went on his way.

This pattern with this guy continued time and time again, we would see each other at the baths and he would come hang with me in my room share my drugs, find someone to play with us, and then just leave. Cut to 7 months or so after that first day, and I am on my first or second week at rehab. I go to a meeting, and who do I see sitting at a picnic table in front of the meeting room? This guy indeed, he again gave me a flirty look, and my heart melted. We chatted briefly after the meeting, and went on our separate ways ( I had deleted his number from my phone as he was someone I “partied” with) until today.

I am on the bus, coming home from a long exhausting day at school, and who steps onto the bus 4 stops before I have to get off? This lovely guy, we chatted about sobriety, and what was going on with our lives, but then I had to get off the bus to go home. I haven't stopped thinking about him all day, and thanks to Google I found his full name and added him as a friend on Facebook...thoughts of a sober romance have been floating through my mind since I saw him, but as I sat down to write this I suddenly remembered....he was kind of vanilla when we were high...and usually people loose all inhibitions when they get high, so if he was a prude vanilla boy high, I can only imagine what he is like sober. It was a nice little fantasy though, it did help me remember the sort of door mat and people pleaser I was for the last few years, and it is great to see in myself the growth I have made, that I no longer have to compromise who I am as a sober man, as a sexual being, or in any other way. YAHY! Go me!

Your all alone, and so peaceful until...

I had quite the trying afternoon/evening...I was in WeHo picking up my meds from my pharmacy and I decided to meet up with a good friend of mine who relapsed last weekend. I figured I would be OK since he had told me he had been back to some meetings. We met up at Starbucks for some coffee and sat down to chat for a bit. I love him to death, so I wanted to be there for him in what I thought was his time of need.

The first thing I noticed were the track marks in the creases of his arms, just staring at me, enticing me in that dark evil way things of that nature do. He didn't look bad at all, which was the first thing I sort of grabbed onto in my head. Like “oh, he got fucked up and he doesn't look bad at all...” I asked how he was doing, and the usual questions returnees get “why'd you do it?” .“was it worth it?”, “how bad did it get?” etc. And he proceeded to go on and on about how fabulous it was. How the guy he hooked up with was someone he met on craigslist, and some drop dead gorgeous porn star. How he proceeded to join him in the bedroom after the guy exclaimed “wow, you've got some nice veins...” He got shut up with meth and heroin (this was a guy who just took a cake for 2 years, and who also by the way I used to use with a couple of years ago) and then had some hot nasty sex with the guy, and they even hired an escort to share. As he went on regaling me with his story, I felt myself get aroused. My head was telling me to make him stop, but I guess the disease in me won over, cause I just let him go on and on about how fabulous it was. I tried to get a good answer to “tell me the bad stuff, and why you decided to come back to the rooms?” but he gave no good answer, so I was not able to close the book on my fantasies.

I have constant memories about hanging out with the dealer, and walking up to some new tricks' place and discovering the evil twisted nasty things we would have in common. I wish there was a switch I could just hit to turn these thoughts off. I made up some excuse that I had to get back home to make dinner, which was untrue, I just needed to get out of there as quickly as possible because I found myself staying aroused and fantasizing about a relapse. I thank God that I am in the situation that I am in, living in a sober living, where I am held accountable and where everyone would immediately know I have relapsed. That there is nowhere for me to go if I relapse, my family would disown me, I wouldn't have anyone to stay with, and no money of my own to live off of.

I have been talking to friends, sharing at meetings, anything to try and just get those thoughts out of my system, I hope this overwhelming feeling dies down soon enough, because it really is taking over my head and I don't wanna go back there.