A New York Life

First there was Michael, the Britishman who worked on Wall Street.  He pursued me, asked me out, flirted with me hardcore, paid for all the drinks, and declined the already-established possibility of sex in favor of seeing me again, so as to not ruin what had been, in his words, a fantastic night.  Then life got in the way big time, culminating in his work transferring him to fucking Trinidad, of all places.  That was the end of that.

Earlier this year there was Matthew, a former New Yorker who moved to Wisconsin.  He was visiting to explore the idea of coming back, and we hung out and wound up hanging out for over three hours (time that just flew by), holding hands in City Hall Park, and making out in front of my apartment.  We’re still Facebook friends and have sort of kept in touch, but I’m getting the impression that plans have changed and he’s staying in Wisconsin for the time being, so our contact has sort of fallen by the wayside.

And then the other day, while I was visiting my family in Pennsylvania, there was Joey.  We met to, frankly, hook up, as both of us were bored and horny on a weeknight.  I went to his place, we did our thing, and wound up having a lot more fun than is usual for a casual hookup.  We stayed in bed for an hour or so talking, hanging out, cuddling, realizing that we had numerous things in common.  We became both Facebook and Twitter friends (how often do hookups end in that?) and made plans to see each other again before I left.  He cut my hair (he’s a stylist) and had plans for a date…that got derailed.  When he texted me that night at 1:30AM, I thought I was going to just be a booty call, but, hey, the sex was good, why not?  I wasn’t doing anything else that night anyway.  But when I got there, there wasn’t any sex.  We talked for some time, including about how he’d just learned his grandmother was dying, and then cuddled all night, sleeping in late to cuddle more.  I’m going to look him up next time I visit home.

But, the point is, even if I stay (or had stayed) in touch with any of these guys (and these are just the notable three, there are quite a few others to mention), it’s just…getting frustrating.  I’m sick of meeting an otherwise fantastic guy who actually likes me, whose only real fault is that he doesn’t live near me or is quickly taken away from me.  Why can’t I just meet someone in my own zip code, for a change?