I did it-- I went through with it. I finally did it.

Well, for those of you familiar with my posts, you know I've been denial about my same sex attraction for over a decade. I'd been denying myself the experience for ten years, going so far as to having sex with a woman to try and quell the gay thoughts.

Earlier tonight, on the evening of January 16, 2016, I engaged in homosexual intercourse.

I got to a point in my life where the not knowing was driving me insane. Suffice it to say, I won't be doing it again because while I enjoyed myself, I feel I've achieved the pinnacle of sexual experience that one human being can in a lifetime: I've had sex with both sexes. There is nothing left to explore. I didn't know how this would make me feel, and I regret to say I feel nothing except a dark satisfaction of knowing that I can rest easier now, unfulfilled as I am.

I did it. I don't know why, but I just did it. I had to. I may feel empty and ashamed and guilty and horrible about myself but at least I can stop fighting myself.

 

I discussed the experience with my brother (who is straight, but supportive of my plight) and he said I seem to have a low sex drive but a high libido, considering how much I masturbate and yet during the sex I've had I often have 'performance issues.'

Is that a thing? Low sex drive but a high libido?

 

You wanna talk about it? Because I get geared up as hell before sex and then fail to deliver (except last night, last night was something of an exception even if it took awhile longer than most people might). I suppose it's a psychological thing-- performance anxiety, maybe?

 

I've only had sex with two people in my life, a woman once, some time ago. And a man, yesterday. So, yes, I'd say I masturbate more than I have sex.

And while that was all very pleasant last night, I'm not sure if it's the kind of behavior I'm going to engage in again, because now that I have, I don't have to, anymore. If I want to, oh, absolutely I can and I will should I feel so inclined.

But last night wasn't about sex. It was about me getting something I needed to know known to me because it was driving me insane not knowing. Admittedly, I'm having a little trouble looking at myself in the mirror, today but ultimately I feel that dark satisfaction of knowing the answer to a question I've been asking for a decade.

I'm not the kind of person who really buys into gender bending and "genderfluidity," if that's what you're implying. I don't care if some people do, but I don't.

But I think I feel a bit intimidated as before I was on one road, one simple road and now I have several more lanes to move around different paths to go down-- I find that intimidating. I like linearity and now things have suddenly become split, fractured and pan out in different directions.

 

While I am ashamed of myself, I do not regret the experience. I feel more open to things, and my more often than naught closed-mindedness is filled with a sea of conflicting emotions, but as the day wears on, I feel less and less bad about it.

To sum my experience up in a sentence, I'd have to quote Al Pacino as Satan in 1997's The Devil's Advocate: "Guilt is like a bag of fuckin' bricks. All ya gotta do is set it down."

 

I think I'm ready to, yeah. :icon_twis As this unremarkable snowy Sunday has progressed, I feel better and better about myself. I like penis, and there's nothing I can do to change that, and it's always going to be around if I need it.

I think the initial 'shock' or first post-coital malaise was just really strong last night. It's odd however that I felt really overwhelmed at first, like, as I walked home, I stuck to alleys and dark pathways as not to be seen by neighbors or God forbid, family. I took every precaution not to be noticed and just blended in as I walked through a bad neighborhood (I'm a big guy, though, nobody really messes with me) just to avoid being noticed.

Maybe I over-prepared and was underwhelmed when nothing bad happened to me, but as this day goes on, I feel better and better. Glowingly, almost. I feel kind of invincible.

 

Cool, I'll check out those videos in the near future.

It's strange, January has always been a very liberating month for me. It seems like good things happen to me in January. I don't officially stop celebrating New Years until a certain day in early January for reasons I'd rather not talk about it, but that's another liberation day for me. So I guess I could call it Second January Liberation Day.

My boss is going to start asking me why I only take extended vacation days in January.

 

I was in love, once. With a woman. We had something of a falling out some time ago and her absence in my life has haunted me for too long. The phantom of her silence walks the long boardwalk of my mind. I care not to have that sort of thing happen to me again. I don't believe in romantic love, anymore. But you know what they say: All good things...

Point is: Friends with benefits is one thing, love is not for me.

But yeah, at least I did what I had to do. The question of 'should I go through with it?' cannot plague me any longer, it never will, again. The questions ahead of me, which are many, many as they may be, are insignificant compared to the answer I got on the night of January 16, 2016. My only hope is that this decision does not impact my family life in some sort of horribly abstract way.

My emotions are still conflicted, as I can only assume they will be for a lifetime of pain to come, as far as I'm concerned I just kicked a major problem in my life square in the balls and killed it, as Kafka would say "like a dog."

 

Well, thanks. That's very sweet of you to say.

I'm just glad I can finally, after ten crippling years, pick up the broken shards of the mirror I smashed so long ago and piece it back together so I may see my reflection, if not clearly, at least darker and wiser.

In the proverb words of the folk religion I prescribe to: "time now to take me home."