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The Guy Who Hates Me (And Why I Stopped Breathing)

Okay, so I told you about the guy I hate. Now I figure it is only fair that I tell you the story of the guy who hates me.

We’ll call him Robin.

One day, in the late, late 90’s, I was cruising a park, walking along a trail, when I passed this really, really cute guy. I kept walking. I figured he was way out of my league, so why bother. Rejection, I don’t need.

He was shorter than me (I’m 6’1”, he was about 5’ 7”), younger than me (by at least six years), and looked to be in good condition (hwp). He was dressed kind of preppy: in a polo shirt and a pair of army green cargo shorts. My eyes were immediately drawn to his calves, which were quite nice. He had a nice healthy tan. His hair was cut nicely (sort of a modified bowl cut) and he had a full head of auburn hair streaked with highlights. He had a long face which angled into a nice, strong chin, a nose that was straight and perfectly suited to his face, and generous lips (especially the bottom one). His best feature: a set of brown eyes that were large and luminous; they seem to hold a great sadness and indicate a bit of mischievousness at the same time.

But I kept walking. And walking. Until I had to turn back and walk the way I came. That’s when I ran into him for a second time and he said “hi”. Kind of bashful. Very cute. He also indicated that I should follow him. He took me off the main path into a grouping of trees surrounded by brush. We played with each other’s crotches. We slowly leaned into one another’s lips. Really slowly. And we kissed. It was… perfect. He then unsheathed his dick and indicated with a sly smile and a nod of the head that he wanted me to blow him. I obliged, still not believing my luck. His dick was perfect; somewhere between 8.5 and 9” and nicely thick. He smelled wonderful, too. It was like one of those guys in a cologne ad coming to life, bumping into you in the woods and telling you to suck their dick. Perhaps shorter in stature than you expected, but just as cute and dreamy.

He liked my technique. I liked his dick. He came, I came and then we just kept kissing, until I couldn’t hold my glee anymore and went off laughing. It was such a nice encounter.

So imagine my surprise when I got an email via my work account from a fellow employee telling me it was nice to finally meet me and that he had a good time. I was floored. I asked him if he had time to meet me for a cup of coffee in the cafeteria. He did.

We became fast friends. And cruising buddies. And fuck buddies.

At the time I wasn’t much of a bottom and in the four years we hung out with one another we never went there. We tried three-ways (not his thing – because I think he disapproved of the others involved). He would mostly watch. Sex consisted mostly of me giving him head, getting naked and lots of making out. And talking. We liked a lot of the same things. He was devoted to his dog; a cute little white Scotty. We liked the same shows (Sex in the City, The Simpsons, etc.), movies and music. He turned me on to Kylie, I turned him onto the Killers. We met for lunch. We went shopping. We cruised the skyways of downtown Minneapolis. It was fun.

We shared lots of secrets.

Robin was a former fatty. You would never have known it. He did it all by dieting and walking. He was regimented about his eating habits. I think that is where the sadness in his eyes came from, for he seemed to carry around a chip on his shoulders – not an angry chip, just a sad one - like he expected to be disappointed or hurt or to become a fat kid again.

I think Robin was also kind of a snob. The company we worked for at the time attracted snobs; fashion snobs, cultural and educational snobs, status snobs. I’m not a snob, so that is part of the reason I never fit in well and only stayed there for six years. But Robin… he was a snob. He liked designer labels. He liked possessions. He liked status. The brand of car he drove was an reflection of who he was. So were the shoes and where he bought them and how much he (or most likely his partner) paid for them.

He complained about his partner a lot. I complained about my bf, too. But there was something mean and pointed about the way Robin tore into his partner’s shortcomings. I frequently got the sense that his situation was a temporary one and that his current partner was just a stepping stone to something better.

Then we started visiting each other’s houses. That’s when things got complicated.

We got caught in the shower together by my bf, who was pissed as hell, but came to accept Robin as my buddy rather quickly (and surprisingly). Then Robin insisted that we (my bf and I) meet his partner – whom we’ll call Ted. The four of us were never sexual together – because Ted didn’t know anything about my relationship with Robin and my bf was just not a very sexual being. Also, at the time that kind of thing just would not have occurred to Ted. From Ted’s POV, I was just a work colleague of Robin’s.

Ted was in finance and from a wealthy family. Robin would get a large amount of cash each year from Ted’s parent’s at Christmas time; money which he would tuck away in a savings account. They shared a huge home. They drove expensive automobiles. Robin got to do pretty much what he wanted with his money, as I suspected Ted paid all the bills. Ted was funny, articulate, well-educated, opinionated and very real. Very well grounded. He had a sweet side to him. He was also a bit stiff, which I think had to do with his waspy origins.

Physically, Ted was my age, taller than me (probably 6’5), bald, with a big goofy smile, big ears, and large hands. I was in lust the moment he shook my hand. His fingers were so thick. He was in great shape, too. I wanted to see him naked so badly. But, while I flirted a bit, I never made a move on him. I also had to constantly fight the desire to pluck the hairs that grew in his ears.

The four of us, or the three of us (Robin, Ted and I) would do things together; go out to eat, go to the orchestra, rollerblading, etc.

Thing continued like this for about two years. Then Ted and Robin broke up. Robin had saved up enough money for a down payment on a condo downtown and announced that it was over. End of story. It was weird. My bf and I continued to see the two of them socially – separately. I kept getting the sense that I was supposed to choose one or the other – that was my first mistake. Ted and I began hanging out together alone, mostly having dinner after work. He was sweet and a bit lost without Robin. I really liked him.

I rationalized the situation; I thought Robin would do fine without me. He was younger than Ted, my bf and I. He was good-looking. I thought Ted needed my friendship more.

Somehow, Robin picked up on my loyalty to Ted. He resented it – I guess - because we never really talked about it. He stopped talking to me. I failed to notice at first, but then one day, after not having spoken for three weeks I saw him in the cafeteria at work. I was with a group of co-workers who knew that Robin and I were friends. I walked over to him and started to talk to his back, as he faced a display case of sandwiches. He never turned around. I said hello – several times. He never answered back. I ended up feeling just ridiculous. He ignored me; acted as if I did not exist. My co-workers asked me what was up, but I just smiled and shrugged it off.

I guess I had it coming.

I emailed him later. He never wrote back.

Later that week, my bf called me at work. Robin and Ted (who were still battling over custody of the dog) had a fight, during which Robin spilled the beans and told Ted everything about everything. Ouch.

I ran into Ted a few weeks later, hiking. He ignored me. I guess that is what people in polite society do in these situations. They pretend the person, whom previously was a friend, but has now been revealed to be a tramp and a liar, simply no longer exists.

I’ve run into Robin, too. Many, many times. To this day we still cruise the same parks. Once he sees me he always walks in the opposite direction. Once I parked my car next to him, got out and tried to talk to him through the closed window of his vehicle (I know, how desperate, huh?). He just sat staring straight ahead. I told him I was not sure what I had done wrong, but that I apologized and that I never meant to hurt anyone. I would repeat the same speech the next time I ran into Ted in public. His reaction was cryptic, dismissive and brief. And then he walked away.

Several years later, I was chatting on line with a former fuck buddy, when he told me about the new man in his life - his new partner, Ted. The fuck buddy, whom we’ll call fuck buddy, knew the whole sordid story about Ted, Robin, my bf and myself. He told me he was working on Ted. He thought Ted needed to get over it. I was grateful for the fuck buddy’s efforts, but told him I wasn’t holding my breath.

A side note: The fuck buddy was a big bottom, and a very, very gay one. He was a screamer. And if anybody was going to get Ted to loosen up, it was this guy – because he was as big a whore, if not bigger, than I was. He also had a huge dick (11’ and thick). All I could think of was him taking it up the ass with Ted. I’d like to see that. Hell, I’d like to be part of that.

Well, Ted did eventually loosen up - enough to talk to me several times over the years at gay pride, where I could be found working a booth (retail, not glory hole). He and the fuck buddy are still together (that I know of) and when last I spoke to them, Ted was experimenting sexually and the two of them were hosting the occasional third party. Lucky fucks.

Robin on the other hand, continues to give me the cold shoulder and walk the other way when he sees me. I always make a point of saying hello when we actually pass one another on the trail – sometimes almost out of spite. I don’t see any reason why we should pretend we didn’t know each other once upon a time. I have my hopes up just the teeniest of bits because this year, when we passed and I said hello, he actually said hello back. Not that he met my eyes or stopped. But facile civility is better than nothing. And I know better – Robin is proud and stubborn – we will never be friends again. I just don’t want to be THAT GUY for him. I don’t want him to hate me. But I don’t control things either.

I would just like closure, if nothing else. I’d like to know what I did that was so wrong..

Robin fell off the diet wagon a bit. He is looking a little chunky. I’m not sure where he is working or living.

I miss him - which is why I keep saying ‘hello’ when I see him.

I have a habit of forming intense, fun friendships that for some reason or another end up with the other party not talking to me anymore. So it is about me. It’s also about them.

I don’t have any such friends at the moment. Haven’t for some time. I think that part of my life is over. It’s not that I wouldn’t risk it, if I found someone I thought would be my friend. But at this point I’m just not holding my breath.

In some ways, I know I’ll never breathe again.

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