My Wicked Little Heart


A whisper is inside me
Begging to slip out
I’m afraid to say it
These sweet words hiding in my mouth
Where your tongue slipped in



I only know how to be alone
But I’m hoping that you’ll teach me
How do I ask you
To make a new heart for me
Replace the old one that was taken
And if we’re meant to touch
I’ll be Jonathan, you be David



And my wicked little heart is trembling in your hands
You climbed into my chest and found it beating
And if you want to keep me all you have to do is ask

“Oh Here I Go, Don’t Let Me Go”

Today is a day of many emotions.

Well really, yesterday was the day with all the emotions, but today is the resolution of those emotions.

The story actually begins two nights ago. I was hanging out at home and got a message from a guy on Grindr who I’d seen around and thought was pretty cute. I’d actually messaged him before but never got a response. He messaged back to say he was sorry for not responding, which I suspect had less to do with him not seeing my previous message and a lot more to do with my profile picture changing to a much cuter picture of me with a new haircut. Which is fine, no shame on him.

All I really knew about him was that he was cute, he had “f-holes” tattooed on his arms, which if you didn’t know (because I didn’t) are those holes on the sides of a violin that the sound comes out of, and that he played oboe and bassoon. Naturally I was interested. I’m going to give a quick little content warning here because we’re going to get into the details of what happened, which range from explicitly sexual to upsettingly emotional.

I came to meet him. He lived in a very nice apartment with a roommate, and when I met him I noticed two things about him. The first is that he’s shorter than me, which I found pretty adorable, and that he was even cuter than his pictures had led me to believe. The second was that he spoke in an eloquent voice and had no trace of a southern accent. This reminded me a lot of myself, because I also don’t speak with a southern accent and people are often surprised to learn that I’m from the south. My family all have accents, I just don’t. I had one as a kid, it went away on it’s own as I grew up. It sounds condescending, but honestly the more I learned to read and write, the less I spoke with a southern accent. I’m not saying there’s a correlation there, but you are free to postulate your own conclusions.

We went upstairs to his room and had some white wine. We chatted about music, about our past relationships, about being gay in the south. We found out that we went to the same high school, he started the year after I graduated. We both have prematurely grey hair and as it happens we had the exact same haircut. I was a vers top and he was a vers bottom. I’m submissive in relationships but dominant in bed, he’s dominant in relationships but submissive in bed. When we finally kissed, we were both pleasantly surprised at the chemistry we had. Sometimes you have a lot in common but no sexual chemistry. This wasn’t an issue for us. He had recently had a Prince Albert piercing so I was careful to be gentle with his cock and to lick it rather than suck it. We got off together and then spent the rest of the night cuddling close. He fit so perfectly in my arms, and he liked to kiss and be affectionate as much as I did. When he held me he’d plant little kisses on my forehead for no reason which is essentially a quick way to make me fall in love with you.

He invited me to stay the night if I wanted to, and I took him up on the offer. We stayed up all night discussing Final Fantasy, which we discovered we have a mutual interest in. We talked about wanting to create video games: I’m an ideas guy, he’s a coding and building guy. We didn’t get much sleep, but he told me that getting him off twice in one night was a feat few had accomplished and naturally I felt pretty proud of myself. When I told him I was a little self-conscious about my chubby body he assured me he found me very attractive. The next morning he woke up for work, but he works from home and he told me I was welcome to stay over and hang out while he worked. I said I wished I had thought to bring my computer, and he said I was welcome to go get it and come back, which I did.

Well… I guess it shouldn’t be hard to guess what was going on with me. I fell head over heels for this guy. And that’s honestly not something that happens a lot. Even on a hookup where I find a guy interesting, I tend to just hope for the best and go on with my life. But… something about him just felt like “This is it. This is the guy.” I had made the decision a few days ago that I was ready to start looking for a partner, and here is this guy who seems to fit every criterion I’d want in a partner. Now, there were some conflicts. For one thing, he identifies as Christian, although he doesn’t like organized religion, and I don’t begrudge him his beliefs. In fact I confessed that I still pray a lot, even though (and he doesn’t really know this about me) being anti-Christian is a hue part of my identity. He also prefers to be monogamous and has had a bad experience with polyamory, and that’s totally fair. I told him I might be willing to try monogamy if the right guy came along. These two things were definitely red flags for me, not that there was anything wrong with him in particular, but that we might have some conflicts in what we were looking for, but I overlooked them.

I don’t really know what got into me. I think it’s that someone finally showed me love and affection, for the first time since Jake left. We slept so little so he took a nap with me in the afternoon on his lunch hour, and he slept on my chest. We were laying there naked, and he was breathing gently while I held him with my right arm, and I felt so content, so complete. When we kissed it was gentle and simple and I loved the way he tasted and the way his breath smelled. Our legs intertwined when we faced each other and he touched my body in ways I wanted to be touched, not just sexually but gently running fingers along my back. I kept stroking his face and admiring how beautiful he was. During the night we spent together, I looked up at him while I laid on his chest and I could see his face in the moonlight and I was shocked at how much I could forget how beautiful he was when I looked away. Every time I saw him it was like seeing him for the first time.

Within one day, this guy had become my whole world. I wrote three poems about him while I was driving. I was listening to Hounds Of Love by Kate Bush and I finally got the song, about running away from love and it finding you and hunting you down, and being ready to accept love. I felt conflict about the things we differ on, and the fact that I didn’t know him that well yet, but I just had a great feeling about him. He told me up front that he isn’t sure what he wants right now, he isn’t sure he’s looking for a relationship, he’s just letting things happen on their own, and that’s fair.

When I got home, I was still swimming. But I’d sent him a simple text message and he hadn’t responded. I was a bit disheartened. I sent him another a couple of hours later and didn’t hear back from him. I started to have a sinking feeling that I wasn’t allowing myself to accept. I laid in bed thinking about him, crying and shivering. I talked to some friends who tried to help me calm down. I took one of my anxiety pills and finally felt tired enough to go to sleep soon. I lay there thinking about him, missing him, wanting him, feeling deprived of him being away from him. My heart was there in his hands and it had happened so unexpectedly. I don’t usually do this, I don’t fall for someone so quickly. I was thinking about silly love songs and making a future and all those ridiculous things you should not be thinking on a first date, or even worse, a hookup, even a hookup where the guy invites you to come back over after you go fetch your laptop.

At the door, we had a slow, long kiss. It was gentle and wonderful. I told him I hoped I’d get to hang out with him again some time, and he said he thinks that’s a good possibility. I told him to text me when he got home later that night after rehearsal so I’d know he was home safe. Upon later reflection that might have been a bit much, but then, everything about me was a bit much that day.

I woke up this morning. He did not text me back.

I don’t know if he’s ghosting me, or if he needs space, or even if he’s just been legitimately busy. But I thank whatever gods I don’t necessarily really believe in that I woke up feeling better. My head is back together. Yesterday his attention and affection cracked my silly little broken heart open and I was bleeding all over the floor and nothing was going to make it better. Today I had healed a little, and was feeling whole again. I admit to a feeling of disappointment, along with another feeling of relief. It was a lot of emotion to process so quickly. It isn’t healthy to get so attached so quickly. I don’t know if it was because of anything he did or if it was because of where I am: recovering from a string of emotionless hookups and deciding to start looking for someone I can build a relationship with. And he’s not in the best place either: he’s recovering from an upsetting breakup with a guy who mistreated him. Neither of us are our best selves right now.

We both needed someone to cuddle, to kiss, to feel safe with. And he gave me that. I am very grateful that happened. I sent him one final text (or rather, a series of short texts) apologizing for being so clingy yesterday, and that I understand he isn’t sure where he’s at right now and neither am I, and that I hope to talk to him again sometime. I don’t know if he will respond. It’s okay if he doesn’t. I’ve accepted that.

Yesterday was difficult. Terribly, terribly difficult. Part of it was that I’d had almost no sleep and I was extra vulnerable. Part of it was that I so rarely find someone who gives me what I truly need, which is tender affection and a feeling of security. Part of it was that he was so attractive and we just SEEMED to be so perfect for one another, even despite a couple of important differences. In the light of this morning, I see that I was looking past things that could be problems in the hopes that I might have found someone to fall in love. I was emotionally desperate for someone to love, but that isn’t exactly the healthiest way to get into a relationship.

Today I’m going back to work to do some more computer training, and back to real life I guess. But I have wonderful memories of yesterday and the night before, and I have this blog post where I wrote it all down. If I hadn’t have written it today the feelings would have been lost. And I have the poetry. I’m going to post the three that I wrote yesterday right after this post, but here are some that I wrote this morning.



He found all the right strings and pulled them


And even if you disappear you gave me something beautiful
Thank you for reminding me my heart is still capable
For healing me and kissing all the places I was hurting
You gave me a brief respite from pain, and I’ll always treasure that
You made me feel beautiful again


Currently listening to…
Hounds of Love – Kate Bush, Hounds of Love

These Cruel Opposing Hands


Possess me, possess me
I’ve denied it for so long
Come inside and stay within my body
Make my bones a ringing song
Lie within these corridors
My echoed halls that scream your name
Raise my voice inside of yours
Pounding in this fragile frame


I’m dying and it feels so wonderful
It feels so wonderful to die
I’m coming and the heat is intense
Between these many bodies gathered
And all there is this
His and his and his and his and his and his
Sweet delirious fucking
Hair and teeth and skin
Tighten these grilling fingers around my throat
And let me die like this


My love flashes so bright that is blinds before it fades
My love is a deep well that drains so fast
And leaves me dry and thirsty
My love is cruel because it does not hold to me
My love is fickle and callous, flitting in the wind
And my heart is always broken and infatuated
These cruel opposing hands make me so dizzy

“This House Is Full Of M-M-Madness”

Apparently I’m in a Kate Bush phase.

I go through a lot of phases, especially with music. Part of why I so often bemoan the fact that I haven’t been blogging is that I always want to talk and/or write about what I’m listening to, and I’ve discovered I have to write about it when it’s fresh, instead of doing what I’ve been doing and taking notes to review an album later on, and never doing it because the inspiration is gone. I don’t like writing without inspiration.

My life has been strange lately. I mean, I say that a lot, but it has been pretty strange for the past few years. Today, my brain’s natural “I am miserable and lonely and life is meaningless” processes are fighting against the “HAPPY HAPPY HAPPY” processes that the antidepressants are shooting into it, leaving me FEELING happy and, well not exactly THINKING negatively, but I’m aware that it’s there in the back of my mind.

My best friend Jacob lived with me for about two months earlier this year. I woke up next to him every morning and went to sleep by him every night. We spent our days driving around, going to the mountains, looking around stores, talking and singing and playing music and having sex. It was a wonderful, wonderful experience. He had to go back home, though, for work, and has been there for the summer. He had the opportunity to move in with his dad and hopefully be in a better situation than where he was living, and I was happy to hear it, although sad that he isn’t coming back to me at the summer’s end. But then, I’m not sure what I can give him to come back to.

I’ve only just recently found another job. I had a long stretch of unemployment when I quit my last job after my stepfather died. It wasn’t actually his death that prompted it as much as my anxiety about working and the fact that I’d been sick going on a month. When I found out Jacob could move in and I didn’t have to pay rent I basically threw my hands up and decided I didn’t care about working right now, and that’s what I did.

Getting back out in the world has been difficult. When Jacob left I felt so empty, and dealt with the depression the best I could. I thought the worst of it was over, but it turns out my grieving process for Jacob leaving just moved into a different phase that FELT like normalcy, but was actually self-destruction. I’ve never been the kind of depressed person who physically self-harms; for one thing I have an incredibly low pain threshold and I don’t like the sight of blood, so cutting myself has never been an option. I know that a lot of depressed people feel relief after harming themselves, so I don’t have that outlet and my depression builds and builds.

My depression primarily manifests as intense loneliness, and it has strange physical effects on me. I start to walk incredibly slowly, all of my hand motions and mannerisms slow down, I have a look of exhaustion on my face, and generally just feel incredibly heavy. Usually I fall into bed and listen to some music and curl into a ball and cry, shivers running up and down my back, and I stare in awe at the depth of the sadness within me, so inexpressible by words or by music or poetry. I’ve found certain metaphors that describe it, but never perfectly, and besides it changes form.

I don’t think of my depression as a virus living inside me, more like a very somber friend. Last night I thought about personifying it as a character, I’m not sure what he would look like. I already have a few characters that live in my head, two of which were my imaginary best friends as a teenager and one of which is kind of like an angry alter-ego. I started listening to the song Get Out Of My House by Kate Bush obsessively last night, it’s so incredibly powerful, and describes what it’s like to feel invaded within your own head, fighting against something that’s trying to break into you. I don’t know that I can say the depression feels like it’s trying to break in, but it is apt in a certain way, because I could imagine it growing in my heart and then trying to break into my head. Like moving from my emotions to my choices, and affecting me.

I digress.

My depression moved into a self-destructive phase, and my form of self-harm was hooking up with strangers on dating apps. While a few of these encounters were actually pretty positive and I had a good time, many of them just left me feeling dirty and lonely. Not dirty because I think sex is dirty or wrong, or that sex with a stranger is wrong. Sex with strangers can be fun and exciting and even fulfilling. But for me, I started to lose myself, all that I did was send messages to people on Grindr. I neglected eating or showering or even things I normally do for fun like playing video games, and it started to consume me. I could write here the number of men I hooked up with over the last few months, or at least an estimation, but I’m not going to. Suffice it to say it was enough to leave me feeling even more depressed.

I’ve had a couple of depressive episodes that were as bad as anything that happened back when my depression was at it’s worst a few years ago. I don’t know that I’ve ever truly thought about committing suicide in any serious fashion, but I have felt a longing for death, which is odd because mentally I am afraid of death, but there are times when emotionally I find the release attractive. People always shame others for wallowing in self-pity, but I think that the reason people wallow in self-pity so often is that it’s a natural and possibly even healthy part of processing emotion.

I finally made the decision that I’m not going to be having any more random hookups with strangers, or that at least I’ll try to do something in the context of a date, rather than just appearing at someone’s house for sex and never speaking again. I put myself in a lot of potentially dangerous situations hooking up, one of which involved a guy who more or less threatened to kill and rob me as some kind of weird “joke,” and strangely I stayed there and finished fooling around with him before leaving. I think that maybe a subconscious part of me was choosing to put myself in those dangerous situations because I couldn’t deal with the loneliness. I don’t really know why I would do that. Maybe it was so that I could reach a low point and realize that I needed to change my pattern of behavior.

A part of moving on is finding a job and getting my life together, and starting school too. I haven’t made much progress yet on school, but I did get a new job as a pharmacy technician, which is a career path I’ve wanted to at least try out for a while. I’m not particularly interested in the medical field, but it’s always seemed like a comfortable environment to work in. Not as comfortable as being in an office, but at least they get to wear scrubs and stay behind the counter in their own area. I had a nine-hour first day on the job where I was trained on a few areas, and I felt that I understood what I was doing pretty well and picked it up easily enough. I do worry about how I’ll react when there’s a line, or when I’m stuck in one area not able to leave to go to the bathroom or hide anywhere. But at least right now I have some medication that can help me calm down in the case of a panic attack. I’m hoping that the anxiety I feel around going to work will subside soon.

Working has always been difficult for me. I usually dread going, and have a difficult time feeling safe or confident when I know that I’m working that day. It’s because I’m preparing for a battle, and I know I have to be strong because I have to go to work soon, and I can’t allow myself to feel depressed or scared, I have to try and be strong. As a result, the emotional toll is incredibly taxing and difficult, and I often come home completely exhausted. This is just how going out in public is for me, it’s a part of my anxiety. It’s something that I live with.

I’ve been writing a lot of poetry lately and I think that I’m in a good place with it, a lot of it is coming out really well and I feel very proud of these brief little poems. I’m hoping they’ll work their way into lyrics for songs. I’d like to make beautiful albums like Kate Bush some day. Here are some poems I’ve written recently. I’m going to be posting some more after this post as well. Hope you enjoy.


We’re playing God and God isn’t playing fair
I’m coming in to burn you all
My skin begins itching soon, try to contain the flash
No weight can hold me back
Tell them to run while they can
I will live forever, the sun will die before my light is quenched
Don’t breathe, just run
Feed me with life until I am everything


Running through the veins of love
Come on let the sunshine in
It’s finally gonna happen
You can’t even guess at how it feels
And when you hear them singing
You know they’re only trying
To say something that can’t be said

Come on out of the catacombs baby
Everyone’s been waiting
And in the middle of the circle stands
The fruit you eat daily
The water you drink
You heat that keeps your heart beating
Freedom waits for no one


Currently obsessed with…
Get Out Of My House – Kate Bush, The Dreaming